Search

My Winter With My Carwin

by Brie

June 18, 2019

Content Warning: bad medical care, intense descriptions of grief and regret

My pregnancy began with the snow and prompted the darkest winter in my life. My lover and I got excited, but when antenatal depression continued to grow past the first trimester, we couldn’t withstand the depths. The antenatal depression demanded selfishness. My lover grew tired. At 15 weeks we decided to end the pregnancy.

I was 17 weeks by the time the pregnancy ended.

I know a lot of people have amazing experiences at the abortion clinics. But mine was miserable. I let them dilate me, and I was supposed to return two days later to complete the procedure. But I couldn’t go back. The staff there were not kind or supportive.

I chose to have a home abortion. I was alone in a hotel, and I had a midwife deliver me the medications necessary to provoke labour. (This is illegal, but safe when done with proper supervision). As contractions began, I moaned and rocked and wept.

After twelve hours of labour, my body release my boy.

I know that medically, people will call him a fetus. And I know the medically, people don’t consider him a baby. And I know that medically, people won’t call it birth.

But he is my baby. My sweet boy, Carwin. And I am his mother; I own that.

I was privileged enough to carry this spirit with me, and I was privileged enough to meet him earth side and watched his breath empty.

To me, this is the way that I knew my abortion had to happen. I knew that I needed to experience the pains, meet him, watch him, and allow decay.

I needed tangible grief.

Yes, I chose to end the pregnancy. But it was the biggest loss I think I might ever experience. The loss of Carwin, loss of becoming a mother, loss of a partner, loss of a dream. I submitted to my grief aggressively. I couldn’t eat, sleep, socialize, laugh. I became so consumed by my choice, my loss. I let my body cleanse, and I didn’t fight the process once.

But I got so, so tired.

I felt regret every day.

I had flashbacks every day.

 

I wept everyday.

I am in awe of myself. This pregnancy was my initiation into self-healing.

I still feel regret sometimes. I still think of it all the time. But I get glimpses of gratitude.

I know that one day the gratitude will outweigh the sorrow.

But for now, I’ll just keep sitting here.

It’s been two and a half months, and I’m still allowing my grief and digestion.

I’m tired but I’m thankful.

 

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