Sometimes I think about how old my child would be now if I kept it, and I can’t remember without doing the math.
I had an abortion once. A part of me wanted to keep it, but I also knew that I was only 20 years old, I didn’t make enough money to support myself, let alone another human, and I didn’t see myself staying with my boyfriend at the time forever. I wanted to keep it, but it just didn’t feel right. The decision to have an abortion was painful. But when I finally made the decision, I felt so relieved. I went to Planned Parenthood with my mom and got the abortion pill. They did an ultrasound with the screen facing me (I don’t think they were mandated to though), I looked at it, but it didn’t look like anything. I didn’t feel any connection to it. I was 8 weeks pregnant. The abortion pill failed and I had to go to the Planned Parenthood in Denver to get a second abortion. It was scary walking in there. There were huge, barbed wire gates, and security cameras. We had to get buzzed in. The nurses were nice, the procedure was quick, and I felt so relieved.
Afterwards, I expected to feel guilt or to have some inkling of a connection to the baby I chose not to have. I calculated when its birthday would have been. Sometime in July probably. I thought I would feel something around that time, but July’s came and went and I scarcely remembered. Sometimes I think about how old my child would be now if I kept it, and I can’t remember without doing the math. For some reason I thought it would be more important to me so I would remember. There was never any guilt. Just gratitude for the experiences I got to have since then that I wouldn’t have been able to have with a child.
