Because I could barely provide for the child I had already.
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I've been a single parent since I was pregnant with my son at 17. We moved from Brasil to the US when he was 2 months old. When my son was 8 I was in an "on again, off again" relationship, I found out I was pregnant again.
My boyfriend at the time did pressure me, but ultimately it was my decision. I was financially unstable, on government assistance, and about to lose my house.
I took a day off work for the appointment, I had gone for a pre-consult beforehand. The staff was friendly, my boyfriend waited in the waiting room as they took me in. The doctor was distant and cold. I was given a local anesthesia. There was a map of the world on the ceiling, I stared at that the whole time. I felt some discomfort, mostly pressure, kind of like a long uncomfortable pap smear. I went to the recovery room with several other women. We went for lunch, then a massage, then home to rest.
When I went for my follow up about a week later, all was well. I asked for a copy of my ultrasound. I was only about 9 weeks along, but I named it Hannah. I keep her in a book with a page over it, so I only see her when I want to. I think about her from time to time. But to ensure a good life for my living child, I had to make a difficult choice. And, as hard as it was, ultimately, the best choice for both me and my son.