July 02, 2003
It was 2 weeks after my 22nd birthday when I found out I was pregnant.
I was at my friend's house. She had just gotten finished telling me she was pregnant when I realized I was late. She offered me a pregnancy test since she did not need the extra one she had.
I took the test. It took 5 more tests to make me believe what the first one clearly stated. (I still have every one I took.)
I couldn't believe it. It took me 3 weeks before I could even muster up the courage to tell anyone, besides Heather who was there when I took the test.
I told my roommate about my pregnancy, and she confessed that she'd had an abortion several years earlier, and that it was hard, but she got through it.
I find that difficult to believe, now.
After a lot of personal pep talks, I finally told my best friend, Jimmy. He was shocked.
I was not with the father of the baby. It was only a one night stand with a co-worker of Jimmy and myself. It was an affair, actually — one that I will regret for the rest of my life.
Jimmy told me that it was my decision, but one that could change my life forever, as well as that of the father, and his whole family, and my family. He even went so far as to tell me that my choice could impact the entire police department that we all work at, my father included.
When I finally told the father, the first thing he said was that we would have to be more careful next time.
I could not believe that he was so callous. I told him that I had not made up my mind, yet, and that I did not think I could survive an abortion.
We parted ways and did not speak for a few days.
When we finally spoke again, he insisted that I was not thinking rationally, and that abortion was the only logical decision. He said that he would lose his kids, and I was not being fair. He also told me that another girl he had been with had had one years earlier, and she was fine.
I told him that I could not do it, and our conversation ended badly. After talking to another friend, I decided that I could not go through with it. I was going to have my baby, father or not, financial support, or not.
I did not think that I would tell anyone who the father was, in which case I would not be able to obtain child support.
At this time, I still had not told anyone in my family. I did not want to disappoint my parents, or embarrass them by my carelessness. But, I needed my mother's help moving out of my crummy apartment and into a new one.
I felt guilty about not telling her, and I wanted her to know exactly what she was helping, so I told her. I wanted to tell her more than anything. I was tired of lying to her and carrying this around alone.
I thought she would be upset, but I had no idea just how upset she would be. She was more angry than I had ever seen her in my life. She told me I was ruining my life, and [asked] how could I bring a baby into the world without a father, and a biracial baby at that? She said the baby wouldn't ever fit in. She even got my aunt to come over and tell me that I was crazy to ever consider it.
When I told my dad he said the same thing.
At the same time, I had the father calling me every day, telling me that I couldn't go through with it. I would ruin his life, and his wife would never let him see the kids again.
I considered every option for keeping the baby, but I was so afraid everyone would find out about my terrible choice to have an affair.
I stopped talking to everyone, and the father started stalking me. I could not tell anyone, because I would have to tell the truth about why he would not leave me alone. I could not even tell anyone he threatened me. He told me that I would be sorry, and he would find me if I didn't “handle things”.
Finally, overcome with everything, I consented, and asked my best friend Jimmy to take me to have it done. He made the appointment, and even paid for it, when the father wouldn't help, and I did not have any money.
As I sat in the waiting room crying, I watched all these girls sitting there talking and laughing. I was so confused and hurt that I had to do this. I talked to my stomach and told it I was sorry. I said it over, and over again, hoping the baby would hear me and understand.
They called my name, and I went into an office where the counselor asked me if this was my decision. I lied. I did not want to do it, but I felt I had to. She asked me twice. I lied again. Why didn't she see the look on my face?
They then took me into the room. They brought a sonogram into the room and I told them I could not see it, because, if I did, I would not be able to do it. They made sure I could not see the picture.
She told me I was 13 weeks and 2 days pregnant.
I cried the whole time I was in that room. The nurse told me she had to show me the instruments, but I did not look at them.
Then the doctor came in. He told me it would not hurt, and he gave me some sort of twilight medication. Then they sucked my baby and the light right out of me. I cried over the sound of the vacuum, but I will never forget that noise.
That was January 16, 2003. That was over 5 months ago. It did not hurt, not nearly as much as I think it should have. I felt like I should have paid a lot more for my choice. And I realize now that I am.
Jimmy took me home, and I lay in bed for days. I didn't eat or shower. I couldn't bring myself to go back to work for a couple weeks. I even bought myself a ring with the baby's would-be birthstone as a reminder of what I will never have.
When I went back for my checkup they put me in the same room as when I had the “procedure”. I was hysterical again.
When the doctor opened my chart, I saw a picture of the sonogram they had taken that day. The day I let them kill my baby. I told them to kill my baby.
They then offered me birth control, and I went on my way. Everyone I told said they understood. My mother said she understood, she had had a miscarriage. I told her she had no clue. Her baby was taken away. I murdered mine. I lie about it still. I tell people I miscarried. I cannot admit that I did that, nobody will understand.
My friends, who were pregnant with me, have had their babies, and I am alone. The father wants to get back with me, and I have actually considered it.
I am now more of an opponant to abortion than I ever was. However, I would not take someone's choice away. I just think that awareness is important. I could never do that again, and will regret this heartless decision for the rest of my life.
Every day I pray that my child will forgive me, and that maybe one day, I will forgive myself.
* Not her real name
