(I am not a native english speaker so bear with me).
It was July. I have just turned 18 and was at a music festival. I drank a beer and felt the need to go to the bathroom to pee. After that, I started panicking because I felt like I was going to pee myself if I wondered too far from the bathroom. Phone signal was nonexistent so I couldn’t reach my friends and if I would have gone too far from the toilets, anxiety would hit like a truck. So there I was crying and panicking until I found a friend. That was the first sign. I remember going to the festival medical services and the lady there asking me if I was pregnant. I was like “no way, impossible, I just catched a cold”; in my head that was the truth, there was no way I could have been pregnant; I mean I was just at my second sexual partner; in a stable relationship, I used condoms and on top of that I knew more than the basics of sexual education as my class profile in school was biology.
The story is long because I didn’t consider being pregnant an option. I thought I had cystitis… the gynecologist thought I had cystitis or a cyst. I took contraceptive for a while for my “cyst problem”. This went on for like a month, in which I wore adult pampers and took contraceptive which made me sick as hell.
On the 10th of august I planned to go to the seaside with my friends but had a gynecologist visit the day before. I went in with my mom.
The doctor asked if i stopped taking the contraceptive – I answered yes. He asked if i had got my period – I answered no.
He froze looked at me and went: “well dear god girl; aren’t you pregnant?”; I froze as well. We went to another room and he did an x-ray exam… and there it was: the little dot. It was about 11 o’clock and we were at the public hospital.
The doctor also had a private clinic. We made an appointment for 5 o’clock. I went home and watched the hours pass until 5. I was so shocked and afraid and ashamed. The pregnancy was too advanced for pills. The doctor had to perform a surgical abortion.
The messed up part was that I had to keep it a secret. My folks are divorced and although my mom was supportive she was afraid of my father finding out so I kept quiet. 1. We went at 5 o’clock to the clinic because that’s when the clinic “closed”. That way no one could see us going in (I live in a small town). 2. I could not tell anyone except my, at that time, boyfriend. 3. My friends went to the seaside and did not understand why I stayed at home for just “a cold”. 4. I did not see a therapist.
Although I do not regret it because that was clearly not the time to have a baby; I think I would have healed better if I knew what I believe now. I love children and I suffered greatly; and not because I thought of myself as a murderer of some sort but because I would have loved to have kids in the right context. A part of me was taken and I had very little people to share that with because of stigma.
And yes, the shame was real and I still remember how it felt although it’s been 6 years. I felt dirty which right now makes me wanna go back in time and hug the little self critical 18 years old me.
I’m trying to accept and share my story. It still hurts sometimes tho but I guess that’s normal.
