I Had An Abortion
I had an abortion one year ago and I'm still in a state of turmoil and confusion. I had been in an 'on-off' relationship with my boyfriend for four years when the decision was made at 12 weeks into the pregnancy.
We had our good times and bad but we didn't get off to a good start. Nine months into our relationship I found out I was pregnant. For one week we kept it to ourselves not sure of what to do, how we would tell people or even what we would tell people. Then on the seventh day I woke up and the decision had been made for us, I'd miscarried. Feelings of relief, sadness, optimism, grief overpowered me. I was a wreck and my boyfriend didn't know what to say, what to think. If he expressed happiness or relief I was mortified, but if he was sad I felt hurt and betrayed. In time we started to move on and get on with our lives but it was hard, for me, or at least outwardly for me. My boyfriend was able to hide his feelings and submerge himself with a hectic social schedule. I hid away, believing people could see that I was covering up something. My mask had slipped.
We grew further and further apart until somehow we managed to get back on track. We talked long and hard, something we hadn't done in the beginning and in time we saw why we had fallen for eachother. We both agreed that we were young, had our lives ahead of us. This must have happened for a reason, we needed to sort our own lives out and become the people we wanted to be with jobs and a good foundation.
Another two years past until I came home with a bombshell to break. I was pregnant again. This time much further gone than before, with morning sickness, swollen sore breasts and a distended tummy. But before all that, I just knew. He reacted terribly. In fact, he disappeared. He went on holiday the day after I told him because 'it was planned' and 'his friends would ask questions.' I was distraight. I cried all weekend, holding my belly, feeling nauseous, alone and scared.
This time I went to the doctor and told a family member. Both were traumatic experiences. I said to my Doctor 'I'm pregnant and I don't know what to do' to which he gave me a booklet for new Mums, prescribed me Folic Acid and booked me in for my first scan. I left the surgery in a daze. Next was my close family member. She's like a Mother to me and would do anything in the world to help me, including keeping my secrets. I told her I was pregnant and she instantly declared my 'options' instead of giving her 'congratulations.' Her opinion was clear. She also understood that I was young, hoping to get into University in three months time and that my relationship with said boyfriend had been rocky to say the least, with him still AWOL. I found myself on the phone to an abortion clinic, and with the help of my family member, preparing myself for the appointment two days later.
The morning of the appointment my boyfriend called. I told him my plans and he was in a state of shock. He said he needed the time to clear his head but in reality this was his wish. Upon finding out what choice had been made he stayed in constant contact with me telling me he loved me, he'd be there for me now, he was sorry he had left...
I attended my appointment and was released from the clinic later that day after the abortion. I cried, for days, maybe weeks afterwards. For both the future I'd lost and the one I could now have. Such mixed feelings were hard to deal with. I grieved for the baby I would not have, the baby I'd killed. And for who? Did I want this? I don't know.
My mental health took a downfall. I was constantly depressed. Crying at the sight of a child. Crying at the TV. Crying to songs on the radio. Crying. This eventually resulted in the end of my relationship, an end which hit me hard. On the night we broke up, I took an overdose. I'd hit rock bottom.
My family member saw how far I'd fallen into depression that she took me under her wing, I could only go up from here. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. I had survived this break up and I was getting stronger. It hit me harder because, aside from my family member who only knew some of what happened, he was the only person who knew the full extent of what we'd been through. The only person who knew the full extent of me. University began and a new chapter of my life ensued, with new friends and new challenges.
Desite all of the positivity I still question whether I did the right thing. I have terrible dreams. I have good days and bad. The hardest part for me is the veil of secrecy I have woven. With only my family member and estranged ex knowing about my experiences it can be painful when topics such as pregnancy and abortion arise. Family and friends share their views with me believing to be in the company of a person who has never had to go through something like that. They are oblivious of the pain they are cause and the great effort needed to stop myself sobbing into their chests or shaking them.
Challenges and reminders are an everyday occurance but it gets easier, or at least I would have said that one month ago. Last month I fell ill, unrelated to the abortion. I put off going to the doctors for as long as possible until my family wouldn't allow me to anymore. The thought of going into the doctors where my medical history would be on a screen infront of another person made me feel disgusting. I felt shame and fear. Grief again overwelmed me. From beginning to end of my appointment I sobbed. I explained that I was 'okay' but I wouldn't be able to stop crying and she should continue the examination as normal. She knew. It turned out that I would need to be operated on.
Now for the hospital pre-op, again intense sobbing and further apologising from my half. Everyone knew what was wrong, one nurse even said 'I understand I have seen your records.' It didn't make me feel any better. I just wondered if I would ever be able to talk about it without crying my eyes out. I'm crying as I write this.
My pre-op was a few days ago now and my actual operation is next week. I'm terrified. The thought of having to go under anesthetic, just like I did with the abortion mortifies me. All the feelings have come rushing back and the progress I thought I'd made has disappeared. I don't want to put myself back in that memory of lying on a hospital bed, being counted out. I'm too affraid of going back to 'that place.' My family and friends think I'm a wimp and just scared of going 'under the knife' but it's so much more than that. I need the operation because the pain is affecting my work but I just don't know if I'll have the strength to go through with it. My dreams have turned into nightmares and I have visions of running out of the operating theatre!
I hope I find the strength to put this experiences behind me one day and that I am strong enough to go through with the operation. Otherwise I'll have to face some painful questions from confused family and friends.
We had our good times and bad but we didn't get off to a good start. Nine months into our relationship I found out I was pregnant. For one week we kept it to ourselves not sure of what to do, how we would tell people or even what we would tell people. Then on the seventh day I woke up and the decision had been made for us, I'd miscarried. Feelings of relief, sadness, optimism, grief overpowered me. I was a wreck and my boyfriend didn't know what to say, what to think. If he expressed happiness or relief I was mortified, but if he was sad I felt hurt and betrayed. In time we started to move on and get on with our lives but it was hard, for me, or at least outwardly for me. My boyfriend was able to hide his feelings and submerge himself with a hectic social schedule. I hid away, believing people could see that I was covering up something. My mask had slipped.
We grew further and further apart until somehow we managed to get back on track. We talked long and hard, something we hadn't done in the beginning and in time we saw why we had fallen for eachother. We both agreed that we were young, had our lives ahead of us. This must have happened for a reason, we needed to sort our own lives out and become the people we wanted to be with jobs and a good foundation.
Another two years past until I came home with a bombshell to break. I was pregnant again. This time much further gone than before, with morning sickness, swollen sore breasts and a distended tummy. But before all that, I just knew. He reacted terribly. In fact, he disappeared. He went on holiday the day after I told him because 'it was planned' and 'his friends would ask questions.' I was distraight. I cried all weekend, holding my belly, feeling nauseous, alone and scared.
This time I went to the doctor and told a family member. Both were traumatic experiences. I said to my Doctor 'I'm pregnant and I don't know what to do' to which he gave me a booklet for new Mums, prescribed me Folic Acid and booked me in for my first scan. I left the surgery in a daze. Next was my close family member. She's like a Mother to me and would do anything in the world to help me, including keeping my secrets. I told her I was pregnant and she instantly declared my 'options' instead of giving her 'congratulations.' Her opinion was clear. She also understood that I was young, hoping to get into University in three months time and that my relationship with said boyfriend had been rocky to say the least, with him still AWOL. I found myself on the phone to an abortion clinic, and with the help of my family member, preparing myself for the appointment two days later.
The morning of the appointment my boyfriend called. I told him my plans and he was in a state of shock. He said he needed the time to clear his head but in reality this was his wish. Upon finding out what choice had been made he stayed in constant contact with me telling me he loved me, he'd be there for me now, he was sorry he had left...
I attended my appointment and was released from the clinic later that day after the abortion. I cried, for days, maybe weeks afterwards. For both the future I'd lost and the one I could now have. Such mixed feelings were hard to deal with. I grieved for the baby I would not have, the baby I'd killed. And for who? Did I want this? I don't know.
My mental health took a downfall. I was constantly depressed. Crying at the sight of a child. Crying at the TV. Crying to songs on the radio. Crying. This eventually resulted in the end of my relationship, an end which hit me hard. On the night we broke up, I took an overdose. I'd hit rock bottom.
My family member saw how far I'd fallen into depression that she took me under her wing, I could only go up from here. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. I had survived this break up and I was getting stronger. It hit me harder because, aside from my family member who only knew some of what happened, he was the only person who knew the full extent of what we'd been through. The only person who knew the full extent of me. University began and a new chapter of my life ensued, with new friends and new challenges.
Desite all of the positivity I still question whether I did the right thing. I have terrible dreams. I have good days and bad. The hardest part for me is the veil of secrecy I have woven. With only my family member and estranged ex knowing about my experiences it can be painful when topics such as pregnancy and abortion arise. Family and friends share their views with me believing to be in the company of a person who has never had to go through something like that. They are oblivious of the pain they are cause and the great effort needed to stop myself sobbing into their chests or shaking them.
Challenges and reminders are an everyday occurance but it gets easier, or at least I would have said that one month ago. Last month I fell ill, unrelated to the abortion. I put off going to the doctors for as long as possible until my family wouldn't allow me to anymore. The thought of going into the doctors where my medical history would be on a screen infront of another person made me feel disgusting. I felt shame and fear. Grief again overwelmed me. From beginning to end of my appointment I sobbed. I explained that I was 'okay' but I wouldn't be able to stop crying and she should continue the examination as normal. She knew. It turned out that I would need to be operated on.
Now for the hospital pre-op, again intense sobbing and further apologising from my half. Everyone knew what was wrong, one nurse even said 'I understand I have seen your records.' It didn't make me feel any better. I just wondered if I would ever be able to talk about it without crying my eyes out. I'm crying as I write this.
My pre-op was a few days ago now and my actual operation is next week. I'm terrified. The thought of having to go under anesthetic, just like I did with the abortion mortifies me. All the feelings have come rushing back and the progress I thought I'd made has disappeared. I don't want to put myself back in that memory of lying on a hospital bed, being counted out. I'm too affraid of going back to 'that place.' My family and friends think I'm a wimp and just scared of going 'under the knife' but it's so much more than that. I need the operation because the pain is affecting my work but I just don't know if I'll have the strength to go through with it. My dreams have turned into nightmares and I have visions of running out of the operating theatre!
I hope I find the strength to put this experiences behind me one day and that I am strong enough to go through with the operation. Otherwise I'll have to face some painful questions from confused family and friends.
By:
Carrie5
Age:
22-25
,
Female
