When I got to the clinic, I had to fill out paperwork and wait forever to go to the second waiting room with around 20 other women. Then I was sent to have an ultrasound. I was asked around 10 questions by the ultrasound tech from a list on a piece of paper from the ultrasound tech.  She didn’t seem to care what the answers were. It felt like she was asking because she legally had to. She asked if I wanted to see the screen, and I said no. 

Then I had to go into a changing room to put on my gown. Someone came to pick me up on a hospital bed and rolled me into the surgery room. They were rolling someone else away as I was rolled into place. I was put to sleep and when I woke up, another woman was being rolled in. There were recovery chairs in the surgery room, but they were facing away from where the procedures being done. I felt like it was an assembly line of abortions. The doctor had to have done at least 50 that day, if not more. 

After a few years I became really depressed and, to this day, I hate myself so much for what I did. I wish it wouldn’t have been so easy or that someone would have said, “Don’t do it.”  I miss the child I could have had and feel like I stole my living child’s sibling away from him.