It’s been almost two years since my abortion. It’s one of those things that feels like a distant dream. I wasn’t in a good place mentally at the time I got pregnant. I was drinking excessively and going through depressive episodes that almost made me fail out of school. I was casually hooking up with my ex-boyfriend with whom I was still in love and hoping to soon get back together with. I knew he wasn’t in love with me anymore and, after pouring my heart out to him one night, only to have him tell me I was “confused about my feelings,” and “fabricating the past,” with a heavy heart, I ended the fling. Days later, I intuitively started to know I was pregnant and, though we had used protection every time, the weeks following, my inkling grew stronger and stronger. I took a pregnancy test while as drunk as possible the day I was supposed to get my period. I found out the next day at Planned Parenthood that the day we ended things was the day I conceived; I was about five weeks pregnant.
I was absolutely positive about my choice to get an abortion. I remember being giddy the day I finally got to get the abortion pills because I had been anxious all week that something might go wrong. My incredible sister offered to pay so I wouldn’t have to tell my ex (I was in college and completely broke). In hindsight that was probably the right option. I felt like he had a right to know so I told him about it the day I was taking the pills. He was supportive for obvious reasons and paid for half but didn’t bother to check up on me again after. In the end, I was only plagued by the pain of having the one person who needed to be there for me, not be. My best friend had gotten an abortion herself months prior and had her boyfriend with her every step of the way. I had gone to my appointments completely alone and didn’t even tell any of my friends until I had already gone through with it. Looking back now, I’m empowered by my own bravery when I think about how I made the choice I knew was right for myself, by myself. I get choked up when I think about the immense kindness of the nurses and staff at Planned Parenthood. The abortion itself was painless, both emotionally and physically; it felt like a slightly crampier/longer period.
I’m doing so much better with my mental health now and I honestly think my abortion played a huge role in that. It was a wakeup call for me to end my destructive behaviors and, being put in a situation where I needed to be as kind to my body as possible, helped me remember the importance taking care of myself (even if it was manifested in the form of wearing fuzzy socks and crying in bed to the saddest song I could find). Now I just want to shout off the rooftops how amazing and incredible and powerful all women are and that if any girls want some help t.p.ing an ex, to fucking call me!!
