I had my abortion almost three months ago. The word abortion is still hard to say, and at times it still seems like it was just a dream... or should I say nightmare. Before I became pregnant, I had always said that if I got pregnant and thought I wasn't ready for it that abortion would be my immediate decision. No questions asked. Little did I know that it would be the most difficult decision that I've ever had to or probably ever will make.
The guy who got me pregnant was a good friend who I work with and have known for years even before working together. We would occasionally hook up, and you know how they say condoms are 98% effective, well... I guess we were that 2%. I remember taking the pregnancy test one day before work, thinking in my head the entire time, "This is a joke. I can't be pregnant." But I was, and suddenly I was terrified because I actually, maybe, wanted to keep this baby.
I had no idea how to tell him. All I could do was show him the four positive pregnancy tests. A part of me thought maybe he'd want to keep this baby but I knew in the back of my mind what I had to do and what he expected me to do. Which is why the first words I blurted out after showing the pregnancy tests to him were, "I know what I have to do."
It was a long two weeks before I could get an appointment at Planned Parenthood. I had never felt more sick in my life than during those two weeks. One because of the nausea from the pregnancy and two because of the shame I felt of what I had let happen and was about to do about it. I went back and forth many times whether I wanted to cancel the appointment altogether. I ended up going. I was six weeks pregnant. Although I wasn't far enough along to hear the heart beat, I could see it flicker. Immediately after my first appointment, I made the second appointment for the actual abortion, yet I found myself at a bookstore right after looking at pregnancy books and questioning going to that second appointment at all. I can remember laying in bed at night and rubbing my belly, crying, and saying over and over "I'm sorry." I tried talking with the father about keeping the baby, but in his mind it wasn't even an option. In the end, I went to the appointment. Right before taking the first set of pills, I was asked, "Are you firm in your decision?" Immediately I answered, "yes" and quickly took the pills. That was it. I got in my car and less than five minutes later broke down. I felt disgusting and relieved at the same time. The second set of pills were even worse. I felt like death and stayed in bed for days.
Things got back to normal but not really. They'll never be the same. I'm not friends with the "father" anymore and find myself resenting him for not wanting me to keep our baby. Seeing him at work just reminds me of the whole situation and constantly sends my thoughts back to that awful time. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't look at pregnancy websites tracking how far along I would be and how my baby would be progressing. I constantly wonder what he or she would have looked like or what his or her personality would have been like. I think I made the right decision for me, but I wish I hadn't been so influenced by the father or what other people would have thought of me. Regardless, I know I will always, always regret it. If I have any advice after all of this...please, please make the decision for yourself.