In early 2010 I woke up in bed at my boyfriend’s house with a pain in my abdomen. The pain persisted and became unbearable over the course of an hour and he decided to take me to the hospital.
In the emergency room the doctors ran every test under the sun on me and came back into my hospital room within an hour of me being there to tell me I was pregnant.
I was 22 years old and had spent the last 10 years of my life on birth control. I had worked for pro choice organizations and studied human sexuality in college. I thought I was educated and prepared enough to avoid an unplanned pregnancy. And yet here I was, 22 years old, dating a man who was struggling with extensive emotional and mental issues in addition to a heroin addiction, while I too was battling my own substance abuse issues and my birth control had failed.
I didn’t even think twice. I was having an abortion. I felt a twinge of embarrassment and regret about getting into the situation that I was in, but I was confident in my decision and so was he. At the time I, conveniently, worked at an abortion clinic. I called my boss after leaving the hospital and told her that I “might need to be a patient.”
The week following my trip to the ER I went to my GYN and had a sonogram. I was 4 weeks along. When I went to work the following week I worked a full day at the clinic and at the end of the day I sat in the chair across from where I normally sat and counseled women every day about the choice they were making and was given the mifepristone pill. Because I was earlier than 7 weeks into my pregnancy I had the option of a medical abortion.
The next day I had to complete part two of my abortion at home, by taking the misoprostol pills vaginally. It was 4/20. My boyfriend and I sat on the couch at my house and watched Tom and Huck while I waited for the pills that would cause me to expel my pregnancy to take effect. A couple hours later we followed through on our plans to meet a few friends at Sugarloaf Mountain and “celebrate” 4/20 with them. I will never forget hanging back from the group with my best friend Kelly Hunt and whispering to her “guess what I’m doing RIGHT NOW.”
6 months after I had my abortion my boyfriend took his own life in an accidental overdose. His funeral was 5 days before my due date.
I have no regrets. #1in3Speaks