I had an abortion in May this year, 2011. I was involved in a relationship with a man who when I felt pregnant was adamant I shouldn't keep the child. This was due to various reasons and I felt I was highly pressurized into having an abortion.
I didn't want one. In fact the moment I found out I was pregnant, I was immediately in love with the fetus within my belly. I worried, I panicked, I went into depression with fear over what would happen but I still had the instant love and desire for my baby and in no way did I want to get rid of it. I spent days crying that under the stress I was under I would lose the baby naturally, never ever did I think I would be put in the position of having the abortion.
On the day of the first appointment, I remember walking into the clinic. It was a horrendous experience. I walked into a room with at least twenty people, mainly women all sitting around. Many of them were laughing and talking and not realizing the impact of what they were doing. There were no seats so I sat in the corner on the floor as my dear mother sat beside me on the chair. My mother supported me throughout this. Albeit she was against abortion; she held my hand to support her daughter.
I sat down and started to fill in the paperwork, and as I did so tears fell from my eyes.
I waited and waited until I was called to initially see the counselor. I spent ten minutes in with her and couldn't look her in the eye for I knew if I did I would then fall into the black hole and my crying would be intense. I would also have to make more justification for going through with the abortion and they would know that it wasn't my full decision. I needed to get it over and done with as quickly as possible, so I simply stated my decision was complete and I had to go through with it.
I went back into the waiting room and had to then wait a further hour to see the nurse for my medical. Upon entering the room I had my weight and height taken. I then laid on the bed to have the scan. The moment I laid back and lifted my top to show my belly I felt an overwhelming desire to see the fetus, just as I did when I had the scan of my daughter born five years previous.
An air of happiness deluded me as I looked across at the screen, I was temporarily taken away from the reality of why I was having a scan and my mind was focused upon the excitement of seeing the child within me. I sat by the nurse and after I had a finger prick blood test I asked to see the scan. I should not have done for I saw the fetus n the black and white picture and several months later I had to see my dead child again so requested my notes with the scan picture and have it by my side now, continually stating how sorry I am.
Again I was waiting within the room, the air stagnant now as I rested my head upon my mother’s shoulder before the heat was too much and I walked to the window for some air. It was open and as I looked down I saw a large yellow disposal bin, something told me this was the bin where the dead children were disposed of and it sickened me to the core. I didn't want to be doing what I was doing and at that point I only had the notion to jump out of the window and have all of this over with. I looked around and saw my mother’s face, I then knew I could not commit such an act in front of my elderly mother.
I walked back to her; I sat back down and was called once more. This time was the final appointment of the day. I had already been in the clinic for several hours and on this final walk out of the room I was ready to leave. I had to contain my tears for ten more minutes to simply answer the questions the doctor was asking me and sign the consent form, only to be given the appointment card for the day after next.
I cried continually from the moment I left the clinic to the time I went back on the Wednesday afternoon. I kept screaming within my mind not to go through with what was about to happen. At night I clearly remember laying my hands on my belly and saying sorry to my child, begging it for forgiveness and asking it to scream at me for it to not make me go through with the act.
Of course the soul did scream at me, it screamed at me every minute not to go through with it but I simply did not listen to my instinct, I didn't listen to my heart for that time. It’s the only time I've never listened to my heart and it’s the only time I've been totally and utterly destroyed. My head took over through manipulation and I answered my head, never shall I again.
The Wednesday afternoon, I returned to the clinic and this time was in for a mere fifteen minutes. I walked in and was called straight away and again had to sign the consent form and be seated upon a black plastic chair in a clinical room with yellow bins and white latex gloves. I felt sick to my core; before I knew it I had a tablet in my left hand and some water in my right. I looked at the tablet, again my child screamed at me not to kill it, I heard my heart scream don't kill it, then I switched off my instinct, I listened to words that I shouldn't have and I immediately shouted within my mind, 'take it' 'swallow it', I put it on my tongue and swallowed with a sip of water.
From the moment I took the first swallow into my throat I wanted to make myself sick, I wanted to throw the tablet up and not have it within my system. I knew this tablet was to kill my child and I wanted it out straight away. I left, got into my car and I went for a meal with my family. As I sat within the restaurant I started to feel popping within my belly. Of course many would claim this was psychological but I have always claimed that it was the soul of my child telling me it was now dying, it was now leaving my flesh, my own soul challenging the death. I sat and simply had tears running slowly form my eyes.
That night I felt a little sick and unwell but nothing to intense.
The next day I awoke knowing I had a dead fetus within my womb. This fact sickened me. I wanted it out now, I wanted to rid my body of death for it was only death that shrouded me now and I was drowned within the knowledge of what I had done, the knowing I was, well I felt a murderer and the knowing I had not listened to myself and my own soul.
I went to the clinic again in the afternoon and had the pessary given to me which I had to insert before I was allowed to go home. The clinic had no codeine to give me so before I went home I had to get Co-codamol to ease the pain.
I had been home a couple of hours before the pain and bleeding started to kick in. I was in the bathroom, I was on the floor and pain was crippling me,
It is now six months after my abortion. I am lost. I am suffering from Post Abortion Syndrome, a condition which is rarely recognized within the UK and having also split from the man I was in love with I have little to understand about life and why I am so tormented by death and destruction.
I plead forgiveness to my dead child daily; I pray to see her one day. I state she for I am sure it was a little girl, another daughter. My own daughter speaks of her sister who is not here; she had however no knowledge of what had happened. I miss him, I miss my child and I wish I had never had an abortion. I should have listened to my heart as I had always been taught, this very first time I didn't and I will regret it until my dying day.
I am now within the process of setting up a support group for women for post abortion help and to allow women to stop suffering in silence. I want the mental illness of Post Abortion Syndrome known and to be recognized so specific mental care can be given to women. I also am a campaigner for raising awareness to women that abortion should only ever be a woman's choice and no one else’s, never ever make it anyone else’s choice but yours because it could just be the wrong decision.
Thank you for reading my story. I am in the process of setting up my own support network and this is my beginning path to forgiving myself and finding freedom from the torment I have suffered since my abortion.