My Abortion Stories

posted 11th Jul '12

I have always read the stories in this section, wondering when I would ever have the strength to share mine as well. I think part of me doesn't want to because I haven't entirely forgiven myself for them... because once it's written down and shared with the world it makes it real. It confirms that it happened. And that reality hurts me more than anything. I have had 2 abortions in my life and I am writing both the stories right here, right now so I know this will be extremely long... but here they are:

When I turned 17 I met who I thought was my soul mate, the man who completed my life. I fell in love with him and long story short, I ended up moving in with him the day that I graduated in 2005. I'll never forget December of that same year... my emotions went from one extreme to the other... I was always tired and slept all the time. I thought nothing of it until Christmas came around and my boyfriend asked me about my period and made me realize that it never came that month. We bought a pregnancy test the next day and it came up positive almost immediately. I was in a daze. I was terrified. I was pregnant at 18. My parents were going to kill me. I cried and cried and we ended up waking up his mom at 2am because I was so scared. She held me all night until I finally fell asleep... for what felt like the next 2 months. Somewhere in the small gaps where I wasn't sleeping my boyfriends mother and I decided that abortion was the best way to go. She wanted me to go to school and get a degree and better my life and she felt that I wouldn't be able to do that with a baby. She had a child young and as she was the only person I trusted enough to confide in, I trusted her judgement and agreed. So I called and made the appointment.

The morning of February 7th rolled around and my boyfriend woke me up at 6:30 am for the drive down to Ventura to the clinic. He wasn't allowed to come in with me so I walked inside, checked in and sat down. I couldn't look anyone in the eye. I had no idea until a few months later that every woman there was in my exact same shoes. I got called back and was given an ultrasound where they confirmed that not only was I indeed pregnant but I was already 13.5 weeks along. They had me change into a gown, gave me a bunch of pills and put me in a room with about 8-10 other women. The rest of the appointment went by in a blur, I was very dizzy and rolled in and out of consciousness. The next thing I knew I was in a room on a cold, hard table and the doctor was explaining to me what was going to be happening. I was trying my hardest to stay conscious but the only thing I remember after that is a lot of pain, tugging and the sucking noise... that one noise that I will never ever be able to get out of my head.

I was taken back to the room full of women and after awhile they released me and I remember walking out of the building and seeing my boyfriend there waiting for me... and I just cried and cried. Because I felt guilty... guilty that I felt relieved... guilty that the second the sucking noise stopped, the sickness and tiredness went away. Guilty for everything I knew I was leaving behind me in that building. And that is a guilt that I have yet to figure out how to deal with.

My second story...

In 2011 I met a boy (he was 23 but yes, he was in many ways still a child) and we began to have what I now realize was a purely sexual relationship. After about 4 months of being together we got into a huge argument one night over something so stupid, in the middle of the fight I couldn't figure out why I was still arguing about it. The next day he called me and told me he "didn't want to do this anymore." I cried and cried and about a week later I just had a feeling... I took a pregnancy test and it came up positive. I called him and told him... and he started yelling. He was at the airport about to board a plane to move to New York... "I couldn't have picked a worse time to do this to him." He ended up postponing his flight and drove 2 hours to come talk to me... about how abortion is the right thing to do. He doesn't love me, doesn't want to be with me and if I went thru with this, he would hate me forever for ruining his life. It was like my first nightmare all over again... I was already a single mother to a little boy whose father hated me... how in the world would I manage 2 kids and two men who wished death upon me? For the next several weeks I dealt with the verbal abuse that was bestowed upon me by him and his entire family. In the end he wired me $400 and told me to "do the right thing" and I never heard from him again. After weeks of battling with myself about what was the best thing for me I decided that another abortion was the only way to go.

August 30, I walked into the clinic... completely confident in my decision... I went back to talk to the nurse and ignored her not so subtle efforts to get me to change my mind. The ultrasound told me that I was 7 weeks and a few days. It was still early enough that I could do the pill... after my first procedure, I knew this is what I wanted. I couldn't go thru that first experience again. When they gave me that first pill to stop the development of my baby I started to cry. The reality of what I was doing sank in... and I grabbed that pill and swallowed it hating myself for not being strong enough to just walk out of there with my middle fingers in the air. Instead I walked and got my bag of pills and listened as they told me what to expect (extreme pain, lots of blood, etc) and which pills were which and blah blah blah.

24 hour later, my friend came over to watch my son... and I took the first set of pills. As things started to happen I remember sitting there waiting for the pain to come... and it never did. I went to the bathroom and I remember feeling huge blood clots come out of me... almost praying for the pain to come... some sort of punishment for what I was doing... but there was nothing. I went to sleep and I woke up a couple hours later with lots of pressure and a severe urge to use the bathroom. As I got up, I felt like I was floating to the bathroom... and the next thing I knew I was being woken up on the bathroom floor. My friend told me I had passed out, cracked my head on the corner of the wall and gone into convulsions. I didn't care. I was tired. Dead tired. The amount of effort it took me to open my eyes was extraordinary and I didn't want to be awake anymore. She helped me get back up and there was blood everywhere. Still coming out of me... but I refused to let her call for an ambulance. My son was sleeping and not only did I not want to wake him... but I didn't want anyone else in the world to know what I was doing. Reluctantly she let me sleep and I woke the next day tired as can be. The bleeding slowed down and a couple weeks later I went back to the clinic and told her how everything had gone and she told me that she had never heard of anyone going thru that painlessly... and that was my confirmation right there... that it was God's way of telling me it was ok... I would be ok. And even tho sometimes it hurts to look back on it... and even though sometimes I regret my choice... I know it was for the best...
But I would never do it again.

(I apologize for any typos, or if it doesn't make sense... I am shaking too much to go back and make any changes)

My Abortion Stories

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