This was before we had an abortion pill, plan B, or any other “easy” abortions…as many refer to them now. It was 2001. I was barely 16 and in LOVE. My first love. The man of my dreams (or so I thought). He was perfect. He courted me. Took me to beautiful restaurants, his family had money, a lake house. The lake house was the location of consummating our relationship. It was my first time. The lake house is also the location of when I fell pregnant 6 months after my first time. We went on a trip out of state with his mother. I was tired that whole long weekend. I couldn’t poop properly. I don’t even recall realizing my period was late. We got back home and something clicked. I took a pregnancy test in his basement upon our arrival. I wait the allotted time…and there…starring us both in our young, immature, horrified faces were the two pink lines. Silence. He didn’t even look at me. After what seemed like two lifetimes, he spoke first. “You’re getting an abortion, you know.” I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. He yelled, “you have no choice. You will not ruin my life.” His life. Ruin? What? He called Planned Parenthood. The appointment was set. I, still unsure of anything, and a weak and in love child nodded my head quietly.
It was an agonizing 5 day wait. i don’t think I ever really came to terms with what I wanted to do. On the day of, I cut my afternoon classes. It was nothing new for me to do that and him as well. After a good 8 months together, we had a reputation at school. We drove downtown. Said a few words to each other to ease the tension in the suv. Listened to some music. We park. The parking lot was a good 3 block walk. We walk into the clinic. I will never forget the look of the clinic. I paid $430 and filled out my paperwork. We wait. And wait. 2 hours go by. My name gets called. We take an elevator downstairs. More waiting. It was unnerving. I wanted this done. I wanted food. I wanted…to be a kid again. I couldn’t have that. My childhood was over. A woman takes me back, draws blood, checks for std’s, and gives me a valium to ease the pain. I couldn’t afford to be put under. She brings me into a room. A doctors exam room. I felt a little more at ease for some reason. I got into the hospital gown and put my feet into the stirrups. The nurse asks me if I want a support woman to hold my hand. I agreed without even realizing it. This amazing woman stood there, while I got my not-forced-but-maybe-forced abortion. The doctor had white hair and wore glasses. I heard the machine going. It hurts, I say to the support woman. She smiled and said I’m doing great. I stared into this woman’s eyes…maybe she felt my young soul, this child that I am leave with the fetus. It seemed like it.
Once it was done, I got dressed and wheeled into the recovery room. There were a few other women in there…all much older than me. I got my cookies and juice. I checked my enormous pad. I walked out. Anxious to see my boyfriend I wobble out the doors. He’s not there. Confused I look around. The receptionist didn’t see were he went either. I waited, thinking he went to the bathroom. 10 minutes. Nothing. I go up the elevator, he’s nowhere to be found. Panic sets in. “Did he LEAVE ME?” he couldn’t have. They won’t let him. They took our IDs upon arrival for that sole purpose. I go to the ID counter. The security guard says that his ID is still there. I beg him to let me go to the car. He gives in. I walk the 3 blocks to the car. The sun. Beating on my skin. It hurts a little down there. I think to myself. I get to our vehicle. There he is…smoking pot. Not giving a shit that I’m standing in front of him about to pass out. I get in the car. He gets our IDs and we leave. It’s a quiet drive home. I’m shaken up but feeling better. I.am.starving. I asked to stop at Mcdonalds. My boyfriend said he just wants to take me home. I beg. He tells me to shut up. In the end, he stopped to get food for me, angrily. They mess up my order and he speeds away. No food for me. My boyfriend proceeded to drop me off at home. Not a phone call later on. Not a single word. I later found out he got drunk with his friends and went out. It’s like it never happened to him. But it did happen. I have come to a peace with this at 33 years old now. I have no regrets. I have spent my life post abortion in this strange haze of constant fear of being pregnant. Even now, my fantastic husband and I are thinking about starting a family and it horrifies me. Im not sure why. It’s confusing. I feel like I want a child, but it’s so scary to me. I wonder how my life would be if I didn’t get the abortion. Still, no regrets. My life choices have brought me to better things in my life and for that I am grateful. This is MY story,
