This is my story...

When I learned that I was pregnant with my fourth baby I was in my early 20s and on birth control pills. This pregnancy was not like the others. I was only a few weeks along and every day I felt as though death had come over me. I literally threw up everything I ate and drank, including plain water. On top of that I was scared...afraid for my life because I had already had three c-sections and was told by my doctor that there was a chance my uterus would rupture. I decided to do something that would change my life. I decided to have an abortion.

I explained to my mother about my situation and asked her if she could loan me the money to pay for the abortion, which was a few hundred dollars, because at that time I did not have it. She told me that she could not help me do anything like that. She refused to give me the money, and basically told me to stick it out.

I finally got the money from a relative, and made an appointment to have the abortion at a clinic in Bossier City, LA, about an hour and a half away, because there was not one in my city. Everyday, up until the day of my appointment, I caressed my belly and apologized to my baby.

The brick building blended in with those around it. The entrance was in the back and was locked with a security camera facing the door. I rang the doorbell and was told I had to wait. I was weighed and given some reading material. I watched other young girls come inside the building, some with parents and some alone.

When the doctor arrived and it was my time to talk with him, it really wasn’t what I expected. His attitude was pretty cold, asking questions like, “Is someone was making you have the abortion?” and “Do you really want to do it.” Never did he try to talk me out of going through with it; he just gave me an appointment to come back in two days.

I had to get a money order to use to pay for the abortion. I was told not to bring cash. There were single women and girls, couples, and girls and parents in the waiting room. My heart was racing because I really didn’t know what to expect. The procedure had been explained to me, but I still was not prepared for what was going to happen.

After filling out the form, I was taken into a room for a basic check up and then shown a video of what the procedure was going to be like. When my name was called, I was taken to the back of the clinic, given some pills to help me relax and ease the pain of the procedure, and sent into a room where more women and girls were waiting. Next, I had to go into another room, take off my pants and panties, and wrap the lower half of my body in an all-white sheet. Once again, I had to wait with the others until my name was called.

I was stiff, almost unable to move while the others seemed so relaxed and carefree, talking and chattering as though they were at some after school hangout. A few seemed to look as though they were in another world. One by one, names were called.

One of the women asked what she could expect during the procedure. Another woman told her that she had nothing to worry about because she had two abortions in the past and was okay. There were a couple of other women in the room, chanting and raving about their many abortions. One woman had had more than three. I became sick at the thought, thinking about how easily they bragged about having abortions as if they were some great form of birth control.

I waited in that room for what seemed like forever before my name was called. There seemed to be at least two rooms that the doctor was moving between. I was greeted by two nurses who were very friendly and kind to me. I was instructed to get on the table. I asked the nurses again about what was going to happen, they explained it to me without giving full details. Then the doctor came in; face straight, no sort of emotion whatsoever. He really didn’t say much to me either. He told me to scoot closer to the end of the table and to open my legs, relax them and let them sort of fall apart. He told me that he would explain everything he was going to do. He cleaned my pubic area and cervix, and then injected some numbing medicine into my cervix, which was supposed to help with the pain, but it didn’t.

He inserted a thin tube through my cervix into my uterus. A handheld syringe was attached and used to suction the tissue out of my uterus. He turned on a machine which sounded like any regular household vacuum cleaner, but seemed to be a little louder. My uterus contracted and the pain was very intense. The nurses gave me oxygen and tried to calm me down. I was crying hard and hyperventilating. They continued to hold my hands and I continued to look up at the bright, white ceiling, crying, almost unable to contain myself. This was real. It was happening for real. No more planning. No more thinking about going through with it. I couldn’t turn back. All the while telling this baby that I would never know, would never hold, how sorry I was.

What in reality took about 20 minutes, seemed to take a lifetime to complete. When the doctor was done he left with the same emotionless face he walked in with. The nurses were still trying to calm me because I was still crying and now shaking pretty badly. I tried to get myself together because I knew there was someone else waiting to be placed on the table I was laying on. The nurses directed me to the recovery.

I sat down and someone brought me some warm Celestial Seasonings tea and cookies. I sat in the recovery area for about an hour and then cleaned myself up. Afterwards, I called one of my aunts to pick me up. The next day, I got back on the Greyhound bus and went home.

At home, I cried. Then I wanted to find out if other women feel the same way after having an abortion. I did a search on the internet and came across some very disturbing images of what abortion REALLY looks like. The images I saw were far different and more disturbing than the images I saw on the video at the clinic. Yes, I knew abortion was wrong and yes, I knew that the baby would die, but I did not know some of the lengths some doctors go through to kill them.

I sat at the computer, shocked. All of the information and the facts that could have been given to me to help me make a better decision were not given to me by the people who were supposed to counsel me. They did not care about me. They only cared about the money I brought into the clinic.

I still think about that baby and at times I still cry. People said I would forget and get over it. It has been years and I still haven’t. I don’t believe I ever will.

I carried another child to term in 2002 despite my doctor’s warnings of a ruptured uterus. I refused to have another abortion. It was horrible and I have asked God for forgiveness. I’m still healing.

The only good that came from my experience is that I can now help educate others about the truth of abortion. Women need to know the truth and need to be well-informed about the alternatives. There is a better way.

By Ayana