I always tried to make myself the easygoing guy, anyone could talk to, always smiling and capable of blending into the different groups around me. I wanted connection — friends, a girlfriend, people to see the “me” I didn’t think anyone did. Three high schools later, she finally saw me. I continued on in the relationship despite signs to turn around. We were together for two years. Finally out of high school and free to start our lives. Young and trying to figure life out, we talked about marriage and quickly moved in together. We were playing house.
Two months into trade school, I got a text:
“I’m late. I might be pregnant.”
On my way home, I stopped and picked up a box of pregnancy tests and waited at home in a hurricane of emotion. I’d always wanted to be a dad, even if I had no idea how to be one.
THE TEST WAS POSITIVE . . .
We started calling and driving around, looking for a clinic to get a blood test to confirm the pregnancy. But an actual hurricane was coming through town, and everything was closed. We sat in my car, searching and calling for clinics, when she looked up and said, “I have an appointment for next week.” I asked, “For the test?” She replied, “No. For an abortion.”
I WAS DEVASTATED.
We hadn’t talked about it. We hadn’t processed it, and suddenly it was decided.
I fell silent for a few minutes. I didn’t know what even to say. The only road forward I knew was: “Her body, her choice.” I thought being a good man meant supporting her decision. So, I kept quiet and took care of her. The following week I called out of work to take her to the appointment. But the next day, I had to go back to work as if nothing happened.
I felt my heart being ripped out of my chest, but I numbed it with justification that I wasn’t ready to be a dad.
Looking back now, I know I sinned, not by ending the life of our child with my own hands but by listening to the world’s wisdom and failing to protect that life. I didn’t speak up, I didn’t lead, I didn’t stand between my child and death. That haunts me.
We named him Michael. I say “him” even though we’ll never know for sure. I just know it in my heart. He would’ve been four years old this year.
For a long time, we didn’t talk about it. My girlfriend and I stayed together for two more years, but we never processed the loss. Birthdays became quiet reminders of what could have been. Eventually, we broke up. I moved back to Virginia. And God began breaking through my hardened heart.
One day I hit a stop sign — literally. I was driving, carefree, and ran into a stop sign. It sounds small, but God works through anything. For the first time, I faced my mortality. I started asking questions. What about Michael? Where is he? Would I see him again? And then the deepest realization hit me: I wasn’t on the path where I would see him again. If he were in heaven, I wouldn’t be.
God used that realization to begin drawing me to Himself. Through conversations with believers, reading the Bible, and wrestling with the truth, I began to see, really see, my need for a Savior. Desiring to share the news of my faith, I got baptized in November of 2022. That baptism wasn’t the finish line. It was the starting point of a new life in Christ.
Healing hasn’t been easy. But the church and my family have been lifelines. God corrected my relationship with my parents and gave me a community that helps bear this burden with me. He gave me brothers and sisters in Christ who don’t minimize the pain but point me toward hope and purpose. My story doesn’t end with regret. It concludes with redemption.
My ex-girlfriend, now a believer herself, reached out to ask for forgiveness. That conversation brought a kind of closure I didn’t know I needed. She was holding her newborn baby when we spoke. And as much as it hurt to hear, I felt nothing but joy that God had given her another chance at motherhood.
So why share this story now? Because there are too many men like me: quiet, confused, and sidelined. We have stopped using our voices because we’re told we don’t have one in this space. But that has to change. Our silence comes at a cost. If this story helps even one man find Jesus, find his voice, or find healing, then it’s worth telling.
I want to live my life in a way that honors God. I want to serve, speak out, and stand firm, not because I’m strong, but because Christ is. Romans 12:2 says, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may know what is the will of God, what is good, acceptable and perfect.” That’s what God did for me. He renewed my mind, restored my soul, and gave me a mission.
This is for Michael. This is for the men still searching. This is for the God who forgives and redeems.
At Care Net Peninsula, we believe that reaching fathers is critical to achieving a lasting impact in the lives of our clients and their babies.
That’s why we launched a Men’s Ministry Program. For more information and to find ways to get involved, click here.
Former Care Net Peninsula Board Chair and respected business entrepreneur, Mark Lee, will serve as chairman of the annual Peninsula4Life Benefit Dinner on Friday, October 30th, at the Hampton Roads Convention Center.
Zoey came to our clinic believing she was scheduling an abortion appointment. What she found instead was help, hope, and a life-changing outcome, for both her and her baby.
The abortion pill isn’t a decision—it’s a default. Hours matter. Your year-end gift helps Care Net Peninsula answer calls and offer same-day care.
The abortion pill moves fast. Care Net Peninsula races to reach women first. Your year-end gift helps break the timeline and save lives.
