Her story made me feel better.
For context: I’m happily married. 32. Healthy. Financially stable.
When I looked online, I couldn’t find any stories that weren’t from mothers, people in their teens or 20s or people who simply didn’t want kids.
Her story made me feel safe. The reality is: I want kids. And this wasn’t an easy decision.
For background, my husband and I have been married for 1.5 years and together for 6 years.
Due to cultural and religious reasons, we were unable to live or travel together until we were married.
2020 was rough. On everyone. And we were trying to get our lives organized. We were actively planning to start a family soon but wanted to get a handle on our student debt. We were both managing corporate burnout. I was actively looking into a career change into something slower paced.
After a late period, I took a pregnancy test. When I saw those two lines, my heart sunk. I thought I’d be excited but I wasn’t. That was my first red flag.
Once I told my husband, this became our only topic of conversation. We wavered back and forth constantly. We weighed pros and cons. Nothing felt right.
I cannot stress how much I researched this. I spent days and nights reading people’s online stories, forums, data and articles. I even dived into actual studies and full reports on the discussion. There wasn’t a waking moment where this wasn’t on my mind. I felt isolated in that, aside from husband, I felt like I couldn’t share this with anyone. Everyone in our lives either had kids or were trying to have kids.
One thing I kept thinking: why was I even considering this? Especially when on paper, we seemed so ready. But again, something felt off. I don’t know if this was intuition or what.
At 4 weeks, we decided I’d travel to Massachusetts for the pill.
Since Roe vs Wade had been overturned and we lived in Texas, I couldn’t go anywhere local.
Once in Massachusetts, PP said I was 5 weeks along but since I had to travel back to Texas, they did not recommend the pill. They were concerned that I couldn’t stay for the 2 week follow-up. Instead, they suggested scheduling a surgery. I couldn’t change or extend my flight reasonably. So, I flew back home. This part angered me – it was so expensive to even have this conversation. While we could afford it, it was still a financial strain.
At home, we continued our moral dilemma. I started to wrap my head around making the pregnancy work. But again, something kept irking me through the entire process: why was I even considering this? I never thought I’d consider an abortion.
After almost three more weeks of constant discussion, we decided I’d fly to California.
Beforehand, I had even tried to get an appointment with a doctor to see how the pregnancy was going but was unable to get an ultrasound anywhere local (aside from crisis centers). I couldn’t even see an OB/GYN unless I waited for another month or two. I felt totally in the dark. In my area, PP had even completely stopped giving ultrasounds.
So, I flew to California. My nerves and anxiety were at an all-time high. My greatest concern was: what if this ruins my future chances of having a child? All the data, articles, studies said otherwise but I wanted to hear more success stories from people who had done this in their 30s and then successfully had children.
Based on the timeline and my last period, I figured I’d have to be at least 8 weeks.
Finally, in California, I went to a clinic. I was so stressed.
In the waiting room, I sat with three mothers and two younger women. All who were awaiting the surgical procedure. The staff was kind and comforting. They shared there was no reason to worry about future fertility and ultimately, this stage would require no cutting or scraping or anything scary. That made me feel better, but it didn’t calm my nerves.
When they conducted the ultrasound, they said it looked like I was 6 weeks along. That was strange to me: wasn’t I supposed to be further along? My mind wandered: maybe there was a reason I was here. In the wild event something had gone wrong or this was an eventual miscarriage, I’d still be in the same boat if I had been in Texas. I’d still have to travel to get any type of assistance.
That thought bothered me. I’ll never know but in a weird way, it made me think – maybe this was intuition guiding me. Because despite the stress, I was still in the waiting room.
They took me to a room to change into the medical gown. When the nurse left the room, I broke down in tears. I prayed. I was shaking.
When it came down to the procedure, I was brought into a room with an OB/GYN, anesthesiologist, and a nurse. They told me they had seen 4 other people from Texas that day and even 1 person from Louisiana. I asked the OB/GYN, who was an elderly doctor, if I should ever be concerned about future fertility. He shook his head and said absolutely not. I was given general anesthesia and fell asleep within minutes.
I remember absolutely nothing and if you’re able to have anesthesia, I’d highly recommend it.
I woke up in a recovery room and when I did, I almost forgot where I was. I had been dreaming.
I felt okay. I was having mild cramps, nothing more than a normal period. The nurse gave me juice and crackers. She told me that I was only bleeding very lightly and said everything went very smoothly. They gave me ibuprofen and antibiotics. I was sent on my way.
It’s now the next day, and I’ve only bled very lightly since. I feel okay. Not amazing. But I’m okay.
I’d like to think this happened for a reason and we’ll move past it. There are always unknowns in life but we have to move forward.
I hope this helps someone. I was truly struggling with this decision. It was not easy. It was complicated, uncomfortable and burdensome. Know whatever your feelings or circumstances: you are not alone.
I want kids, and I’m hoping all is well in the future.
When we’re ready, and I’m pregnant – I’ll update or reshare this story to reflect the news for anyone out there (like myself) searching for a success story. I never saw enough of those and I wish those statistics were included in a study anywhere on the internet.
