I spent my whole life feeling like I owed someone something. I owed my parents good grades and respective behaviors. I owed men sex.
I found myself pregnant with all the resources in the world. I already have children. I have a nice house and a great paying job. I was married to an amazing man, except I had cheated on him. I became pregnant. I found myself begging for an abortion immediately after finding out. I was a teen mom to my oldest. I didn’t even consider abortion then. I grew up believing abortion was murder.Here…I found myself pregnant again in my upper 20s. I found 2 couples willing to adopt the baby. One couple I got really close with during my pregnancy. Meanwhile, my heart was falling into more despair. I didn’t know if I was going to make it out of my pregnancy alive. I was extremely suicidal. I spoke with the doctor who put me on an extremely low dose antidepressant. Of course, I wasn’t completely honest. I didn’t tell him I was envisioning razor blades on my wrists or a gun to my head. I didn’t tell him that my husband removed our guns and took away the knifes. I didn’t tell him that I sent goodbye letters.
Anyway, the weeks went on. Physically I was beginning to feel even worse. I couldn’t do it anymore. I decided for once I owe myself something. I made an appointment at the abortion clinic. I googled everything imaginable. What would it feel like? What do the instruments look like? I had “met” some amazing women in a birth mom support group. These women also helped to answer my questions. The day of my surgery came. I was surprisingly pretty calm. I had called the clinic and asked if they would give me anything to calm down. They said no, they only give ibuprofen. Ugh…I took Tylenol PM prior to walking into the clinic. I practiced deep breathing and clenching my fists. I was terrified of the protestors outside, but I can honestly say, I don’t remember what any of them said to me except the first person who asked me if I was going into the clinic and then someone yelled “he loves you!” They pretty much let me be. Others they followed the whole way into the clinic.
I sat inside waiting and waiting. First, I provided a urine sample. An ultrasound checking for gestational age proceeded. I didn’t look at the screen or the picture. I knew if I saw it, I would change my mind. Then, I met with a nurse to go over my medical history. Lab work was completed to find out my blood type. Then, I met with the counselor. She has been working at the clinic for over 30 years!!! She was nice and supportive. She went over what to expect, talked about my anxiety and birth control options. I was terrified of the needle going into my cervix. She explained that there isn’t as many nerve endings on the cervix like there is on your fingers, so it shouldn’t hurt as much. She explained that my cervix only needs to dilate a small amount, but it had already dilated to 10 cm when my children were born. She brought up valid points.
After, I waited about 20 minutes and went back to the office. It literally looked like a typical Dr office minus the ultrasound machine and the square vacuum on the floor. The Dr came in and introduced himself. The tech got some supplies ready. I really didn’t see or notice anything. I was talking to the tech about sports to distract myself. The Dr every once in awhile would chime in saying who his favorite team was. The procedure felt like a Pap Smear. They inserted the speculum. I felt the pressure from it. I felt a couple very very small pinches. The vacuum must have come on at this point because I felt some tugging, but it felt very similar to what really rough sex feels like. I continued to deep breath. Afterwards, I experienced some cramping off and on for an hour. The cramps were really mild compared to what I’m used to for menstrual cramps. Maybe it was because I had pretty much overdosed myself on Tylenol and ibuprofen.
Now, here I lay, the day after, and I’m barely bleeding. I’m very relieved and am able to smile for the first time in months. Last night was a little hard. I cried in the shower, but I pretty much gave it my all. I knew I hated being pregnant. I knew I didn’t want to have that man’s baby. I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I did. Ya, I’m gonna wonder what the baby would’ve looked like. Ya, I’m gonna be tearful at times. Ya, I’m gonna remember my due date and I’ll probably be a little depressed around it, but you know what…I’m happy for the first time in months. I have a second chance. More like the cat with 9 lives. This is my 9th life and I’m going to go live. FINALLY!