Five Little Pills

by X

September 16, 2022


I HAD AN ABORTION at 22 years old.


This week, it would have been your first birthday. August 23rd. You would have been a Virgo, like my mother or perhaps a Leo, just like me. I lit a candle, just for you. You were with me.


I wasn’t ready for you yet. I mourned you for so long, and I will always remember you, even though you were only 6 weeks.


I hope that you will find your way back to me when I am ready. Everything in me wanted to have you, but I was not ready. I was not emotionally, or financially ready. I still felt like a child myself. I wanted you to have the best life possible.


I always think about you, and what could have been, but it couldn’t be. I had to get an abortion, and I wanted to get it over with before the new year, 2021, began.


December 30th, I went to Planned Parenthood alone. I felt so alone. I had to be in the clinic alone, due to COVID-19. Regardless, everyone I knew was in quarantine since the cases were so high. It was holiday time. I felt like a burden, burdening people with my life. I felt so, so alone. Too much paperwork, I just wanted to get it over with. I was tired of hearing all of the potential side effects, all of the medical jargon. I was tired of signing my name everywhere. I broke down in front of the nurse and doctor when they asked if I had anyone to support me through the process. I cried and cried and cried. The doctor gave me one little pill. Mifepristone. I took that one with her. And four more little pills for tomorrow that I would take alone, in secret. Misoprostol.


On December 31st, New Year’s Eve, I took four little pills, and placed them in between my cheek and gums. Four little pills, that would lead to the most painful evening of my life. I was in my bed, pretending that I was just having a painful period. My family, my mother could never know. At 11:59 PM, I woke up to celebrate the new year, and then went back to sleep.


Five little pills of great pain. My entire body, heart, and soul, was in great, great pain.


To me, abortion was a very difficult choice, yet a certain one. For the longest time, I felt like I didn’t deserve to mourn you, because I made that choice. I was filled with so many complex emotions – grief, pain, sadness, anger, mixed with relief. For so long, I couldn’t hear jokes or talks about having children or pregnancy. I couldn’t hear the word “abortion”, “baby”, or “pregnant”, without bursting into tears.


As time went on, it hurt a bit less. I was able to talk about it. I opened up a little bit more to people. I even went to get the ultrasound image. Most people are so afraid to talk about abortion experiences. I noticed that people who haven’t experienced it are sometimes unsure of how to talk about it or approach a person who has had one. Everyone feels different, no one’s experience is the same. Even pro-choice people can view abortion differently in little ways. It can be really hard to talk about it. But sometimes, having difficult conversations can make you grow.


Being a politically charged topic, made it so much harder to heal from. A couple months later, I went to PP for a pap smear. A pap smear. A protestor told me that I’m going to hell for “killing my baby.” I bit my tongue until it bled, and I sobbed later on that day. Sometimes, I found myself in a deep internet hole watching people argue whether or not abortion is right. I simply wished everyone would shut up. I was so tired. When Roe V. Wade was overturned, I broke. It made me feel as if I couldn’t openly share, because there was so much discourse.


Me? I am still healing. It comes and goes. I am okay. If anyone ever needs someone to sit with at the clinic, through the procedure, and through the pain, I am there. I went through most of the pain alone. I don’t think anyone should do that alone.


Talking about abortion experiences needs to be normalized. People shouldn’t need to give a whole explanation as to why they had one to justify it. People don’t need to go through horrific experiences to have one.


I truly hope to uplift others who have abortions. I wish to be there for others who are mourning. I wish to be there for others who need someone, just anyone to talk to. I don’t wish my loved ones to go through this experience, but I wish to be there for them, in the case that it happens.

I understand.


I HAD AN ABORTION at 22 years old.


For now, I wasn’t ready. But I will be one day.


I will meet you one day.


Remember that our stories are ours to tell. We’d love to hear your story too!