I suddenly knew I wanted a baby. I began going through my own baby clothes that my mom had saved. I started babysitting and watching kids for friends and family. I was so curious, hungry to know more about the little people all around me.
One day I had a vision of my boyfriend holding a baby. We hadn’t used protection for the whole of our 1 year relationship and hadn’t had any pregnancies; I had a dream that a baby was sleeping next to me in the bed, and shortly after that dream found out I was pregnant. Even though we never talked about kids, I knew my partner wasn’t exactly hoping to have any. I took the test and just stared at the two bold lines, took a picture of the test and showed the picture to him. He was shocked, scared, adamant that this couldn’t happen, we couldn’t have this baby.
I don’t remember what I felt then… this may have been the moment I started disassociating. I told my aunt who was my best friend, she was a good listener and supportive either way. I told my mom, she was distant and thought I should give it up for adoption. I told a woman in a shop and another friend. Maybe 5 people knew. I called planned parenthood. I called an adoption agency. I made an appointment at planned parenthood. I got nauseous every day, turned off my emotions, waited until the appointment.
The night before the abortion, I had a terrible toothache, extremely painful and debilitating… I think about that now and wonder… was something trying to get my attention? My boyfriend and I drove the 3 hours to the clinic where I had an ultrasound, heard the heartbeat and felt nothing. I took the first little pill, we drove home and I got so nauseous from whatever poison is in the pill that stopped my babies heart, that I couldn’t keep water down let alone another pill which would evacuate everything in my uterus and bowels. My boyfriend was distant and cold. He was at the bar when I needed him most.
I had to call a hotline to get prescribed a medication for the nausea so that I could take the other very necessary pill to complete this process. I walked to the pharmacy, hurled in the trash can, got the medication, went to the grocery store, got more supplies (food, movies, etc). At home I went into what felt like labor, the pains were intense for a few hours and then stopped abruptly. I knew I had passed it. I held it in my hand, the pink body the size of a lima bean. A ridged curved back, two black dots (eyes). I felt nothing. I don’t think I cried. I put the tiny body into a heart-shaped box and asked my boyfriend to dig a hole under a tree. I know it was a boy.
My boyfriend and I didn’t stay together much longer. It’s now 8 years since the abortion and I’m just now really grieving it. Him. My cousins and friends are having babies and I have visceral anger and sadness as a reaction to their announcements and births and milestones. My child would have been 8 this year. I have a lot of anger toward my former boyfriend, I treat him as if he doesn’t exist, it’s easier that way. Whether or not I ever have children, I will live with this blood on my hands and guilt for having so flippantly killed a baby which I wanted and asked for and received and ultimately refused and poisoned.
There is a lot of anger and guilt inside of me as I write this. I’m an emotionally unstable and immature woman who probably shouldn’t have kids. My window of opportunity is closing and maybe that’s why I’m so angry. It’s not guilt, it’s selfish regret.
I wish I would have known that I could stand up for myself and make my own choice. I did… I don’t know! I’m a big fat contradiction. I feel guilty and ashamed and regretful and I also feel like my boyfriend coerced me into making my choice. That’s it. And I want someone to be angry at so it might as well be him. Thank you for reading my story.
