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Healing the Shockwaves of Abortion


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The Worst Mistake
New York, United States

On Valentine’s Day of 2014, which is also my mum's birthday, I found out I was pregnant. I was 20 years old. The week before I've been feeling very sick and nauseous and the thought of being pregnant crossed my mind. I told one of my friends. We just looked at each other and thought that it was not possible. So, I went on and continued working and stuff, thinking I would be OK in a few days and that maybe it was just the flu. A week later it didn't go away. I decided to get a test. I found out I was pregnant. I couldn't really believe it, so I got more tests and took them over and over again.

I told my boyfriend over the phone because he lived in another country. He said everything was going to be fine and that he was there for me. Eventually he said it wouldn't be smart to keep it because we didn't live together, and he wanted to have children under good conditions.  He said he wanted to raise a child with both parents in the house.

As stupid as the excuse sounds right now, I had an abortion because I couldn't tell my mum. I didn't want to shock her and disappoint her. I was worried what her friends would think, and even just people around me. I had an abortion because I was worried my boyfriend would have trouble explaining to his 8 year old daughter that she was going to have a sibling. She didn't even know me at the time. I had an abortion because I spoke to the wrong people and they all told me ''just do it and never look back; you didn't plan it; it's not your fault.”

I made an appointment and went to the clinic.  They said I could take the pill because I found out in the early stages. A part of me thought that as long as they didn't go in there with any metal tools and suck it out, it would be different and less gruesome. Boy, was I wrong!  The time between my visit and my appointment went by really fast. I was numb and completely disconnected from everything around me. I would start crying as soon as I left work until I fell asleep at 4 or 5 am. I would walk down the street crying, or in the train, or when I saw babies and pregnant women.

I went to the clinic on a Thursday afternoon and took my first pill. I was given prescription pills for the next day. It took about 30 minutes for the cramps and bleeding to start. I remember thinking, “OK, so this should be over in an hour or so.” But it wasn't. During that time I felt like my inside was being torn and sliced to pieces. I had blood all over my legs and went in the tub to wash them. The cramps got so bad I couldn't even move. I couldn't even cry. It was worse than anything I've ever seen on TV. All the labor and contractions they show was nothing compared to this. I couldn't get to my phone to dial 911 and go to the emergency room. I lay there for hours thinking, “I deserve this; I brought this on myself.” Right before the fetus came out, I started vomiting everything I had in my system since that morning. Then I bled some more and hurt some more. I started praying curled up in blood in the tub, for the first time in years. I don't remember the last time I prayed before this happened. After hours of hurting, I finally felt a huge physical relief, and the pain was immediately gone. I managed to get up. When I turned around .I saw the most heartbreaking thing I've ever seen my entire life. I saw my child. It was at that moment that it finally sunk in properly. I really had been pregnant.  I had been carrying the life I created inside of me until that very moment.
Right after that, I cried and cried for hours. I put my child in a little box and kept saying I was sorry for what I had done. I was weeping and screaming, but nothing could turn back time. I felt like a part of me died. I felt angry. I felt guilty. I felt like my world was coming to an end and that I was the most terrible person on this earth. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. It was the most beautiful thing I ever created, and I destroyed it.

For the next few weeks, my eating habits changed. I lost some weight, and I got weak. It was hard to keep up because I was a trainer, and I had to keep coming up with all sorts of excuses as to why I wasn’t working out and so forth. I couldn't keep up with the long hours and staying in an environment where people were so concerned about how they looked and their health. I couldn't care less what I looked like or how much I weighed or if I could lift or whatever. My relationship with my boyfriend had terrible ups and downs. It seemed like he recovered much quicker than I had. After all, he was far away and didn't have to see any of what I went through. I felt tired and useless. I spent days just crying, staying in bed, and living in a disorganized, messy room.

If someone had said to me, “I've been through this and no excuse is good enough to have an abortion,” I wouldn't be here today. If someone had told me, “Yes, your mum would be devastated at first, but she's pro-life, so she'll understand,” I wouldn't be in this situation. If someone has said to me, 'It destroyed me when I went through this and it doesn't matter how small the baby is, it's still murder,” I never would have done it.

I haven't really healed from my experience, and I don't know if I ever will. It saddens me that more women opened up to me about abortions after I already lost my first child. My mum would've been supportive, and she's always been pro-life, but I was terrified to tell her. Little did I know she had the same experience when she was my age.  I not only want to speak about my experience to help with healing but to one day to take more steps forward and stop women from making what could possibly be the worst mistake of their lives. That's why I am silent no more.


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