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Scared, but not Ashamed.

by Sam

June 20, 2019

My name is Sam. I don’t nor have ever really cared about who knows this or who will see it in the future. I know some people respect anonymity, but I honestly don’t mind when it comes to myself. Regardless, here I am, writing a story about my first brush with pregnancy.

 

I was 15 when the doctor told me that I had a heightened chance of dying or having severe complications if I were to give birth due to my size (I’ve never weighed more than 105 pounds, and I’m only 5’2″ in height), and the shape my kidneys were in due to kidney stone issues and my hips being terrible. I came to terms with this. I never once considered having a child of my own, and if I was going to commit to something like that I preferred to adopt or marry a man with children already. This was fine.

Of course, fast forward to me being 20, freshly out of my two years of community college and in a new job, I found love in the man who had trained me for the job, and we became good friends over a couple of months before we decided to call it a relationship. He had four kids of his own, all of which lived with their mothers but still visited from time to time, and I was again, fine with that. I preferred that.

We had booked a hotel during the night of Avengers: End Game and dressed up all snazzy in 50s style garb to go to dinner, the movie and then hang out at the hotel since we both lived with our parents and preferred not to be bothered. This was the night I fell pregnant.

6 weeks later I had been having growing pains and just had my first bout with morning sickness which… by the way, is NOT limited to just the morning. It was awful. I planned to go to Planned Parenthood that Wednesday and get a pregnancy test done, which I did, and the words “It came back positive” still hurt and haunt me as I’m writing this. It was immediately there that I decided to have the abortion and made my next appointment the following week on Monday after my 12 hour nightshift was over. This was the PreOP. Where they checked everything to make sure I was good for the procedure, etc. The next day was the actual abortion. Where I had found out I was indeed, 7 weeks and 1 day along.

I, like many others, decided to do the abortion pill. I had heard a ton of scary stories about it, but honestly, it doesn’t seem that bad. The pills however, taste awful.

But as I am writing this, I am at home, with my partner who this happened with, on the toilet, and I’m 2 hours into taking the at-home portion of the pill.

It’s definitely not as scary as it seems, and I won’t regret it for the world. It helped through this decision and this dilemma to have my partner here with me, who was super supportive the whole time and even now is checking on me to make sure I don’t need anything.

 

 

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