I was alone, wrapped in a white paper robe, sitting on the table. I had driven 2 hours to find a clinic that would help me, afraid to go to anyone but planned parenthood where I knew I would be safe and respected. When I came in, the young nurse was gentle and kind, completely welcoming, unbiased, thoughtful. She softly told me that although I was certain about my choice, I would most likely have to come back in a few weeks because my baby was only two and a half weeks along at most, possibly not big enough to even see on a sonogram.
I waited, just trying to breath.
I hadn’t had any doubt from the breathless second that I found out I was pregnant. I could not bring this baby into the world. Not because i didn’t want it, but because I wanted SO MUCH MORE for this little life. I wanted her to have more than a chance in life, a father that would wrap her up and read stories to her, paint with her and rock climb along side her, and most importantly support her as a wild, independent, passionate, tender, intelligent, ever-learning human being. A Woman. But she and I would be alone. He said we wouldn’t be… but my gut knew, just as it also knew she deserved more. And so did I.
I waited, gripping my stomach, trying to let her know how much I loved her. And then… I thought I was going crazy.
A small voice said, “Hey mom.” I couldn’t breath. I kept thinking, “Shit, not only am I loosing my heart and hope, and nothing is ok or is ever going to be ok again, but now I am also clinically insane.”
But I wasn’t.
“Hey mom. I just wanted to let you know that I am here with you. I know that the doctor and nurse said that you wouldn’t be able to see me, I am too young, but you will. I’ll be right there on that screen. And I want you to know that I love you and support your decision. In fact, I’d like to tell you that I have chosen you as my spirit mom, so in order for you to bring me into the world I need more from you. There is so much pain wracked up in your body and spirit that I cannot be born into that. Go Heal. Go Live. Go and Dream your Dreams so that you can hand me the earth you want to hand me without the body-shattering grief you carry as well. I know you want the World for me.” This voice spoke to me quietly as I sat crying, straining towards every word. She told me to let the lies, the thoughtlessness, the abuse, the heartbreak, the rape, the grief and anger, the pain, and disease… to let it go though healing.
I felt like the World Shifted. Like my body had no bones, nothing harder than my heart beat. Pure peace. I could breath for the first time in weeks.
The doctor was surprised when we saw my baby, a tiny little speck, but a speck nonetheless, on that screen. I think I just smiled. I knew she would be there. I kept her photo.
Nothing got any easier after that. I was afraid that it had all been in my head and that my world had shifted out of trauma rather than Discovery… But I found myself a few months later at a Yoga studio on the Island of Aruba studying to get my Yoga Teachers Training. I was battling my demons full force, fighting to stand in my dreams, to accept the pain, to acknowledge the past and potential of my future… I knew my baby was right. I couldn’t have brought her into the world with so much agony.
During one Dynamic Meditation, (something I highly recommend for anyone to experience as it releases some of our deepest truths.) I was in the middle of beating a body pillow, sobbing as my closed eyes envisioned the haunting terrors of sexual abuse I had sustained. In the darkest moment of my meditation, I suddenly went weak and my tears stopped as a quiet breath filled my lungs and that soft voice spoke again. This time I didn’t shame myself by saying “YOU’RE INSANE AGAIN.” Instead, I listened, begging her not to go, telling her that I had missed her and that I’d really appreciate it if she could make me feel less crazy. She told me Congratulations, I was doing the work that would Finally Heal me. The work that would allow me to give her the Life she wanted for both of us. She told me that I had better stop beating that pillow and get up off the floor to Dance like I had never danced before. (I’ve been a dancer since I was 7. Movement feels like Home) And so I did. I began to dance… With my unborn Child.
That is my abortion story. It continues each day, every anniversary, every year… It is my own. It is a part of my life as much as the birthmark on my left shoulder is. Not a day goes by without me remembering that Planned Parenthood Doctor and staff. I left the clinic a different Woman, Alone yet suddenly so far from Alone. I joined the world that day. I joined Women with a new sense of camaraderie. I saw my body and every other woman’s body as a miracle, a life sustaining, mind governing, the powerful being that we are. Sometimes I pull out my yoga mat, place my baby’s sonogram at the head of it, light a candle and do yoga with my spirit child. I dream of the day when I see her on that small screen. And that day I will not be afraid or alone. I will be supported in all the ways in which I want her to be supported too.
I have no shame in my process. I have no fear of my past. I have nothing to give but love, respect and support to every single woman out there who has gone and chosen this path for themselves, for their psyches, their bodies and their babies. Shout Your Abortion!
