I received an email from one of my followers asking to be an anonymous guest "poster". Surely I said....be my guest. After reading her post, I realized the need for anonymity and was torn as to whether I should actually post this. I chose to and here it is:
In June 1997 I was not fully mature by way of life lessons learned and then taught. Able to run and fly freely I became involved with a man who was a bit older than I who was "involved" elsewhere. The relationship began with a birthday drink, was supposed to be nothing more, nothing less but it found its way into a lot more. The relationship was long lasting, fun to say the least. During a moment of fun our concentration broke. A month later I was "late" by 6 days and then by 10. I was a complete wreck because there was no way my family would ever accept this and my "man" had other dealings to deal with.
I met my "man" in a public park and we drove to get a pregnancy test. In a public park, in a public restroom I took the test as my "man" stood outside the bathroom door. It immediately came back positive and I cried. He heard me and said "come on out baby". I thought the test had to be defective so we drove to get another one, the test results were the same.
The next morning I called the doctor's office and said I needed to get in immediately & the nurse asked the question "are you pregnant?", "yes, I think so". Into the doctor's office, in the examining room, the doctor knocks and them comes in "well first of all congratulations". I cried and shook my head and said "I don't want it." The doctor talked with me a few minutes and then took me into their office and gave me information for a clinic. I made my way back to work and closed my office door and made the call to the clinic. The lady on the other end asked me a few questions - how old, married, how far along, what day was best for me. The appointment was made for a Saturday morning and the cost was $350.00, cash only. I still lived at home, my parents had no idea and that was the way I wanted it to stay. At this point only my "man" and I knew and it was he who gave me the money. I had to get up severely early to make the appointment so I lied to my parents as to why I was leaving the house before dawn on a Saturday morning. I told them I was doing something good so I could do something bad.
I arrived at the clinic alone. As I walked toward the building a lady holding a poster asked if she could talk to me. I didn't respond and walked with my head down. When I made my way inside the double glass doors I saw the waiting room was full of people, I tried to not make any eye contact. I was ashamed, embarrassed, couldn't believe this was happening to me but from my surroundings I could see I was one of many. I filled out some paperwork, paid & was taken into another room full of girls and women where a bag of "nothings" were given out. The bag included: abortion literature, aftercare information, condoms, prescription for Orthotricyclene and a gingerbread man cookie with a poem attached to it - it said something about when in doubt you can just bite his head off. The group of us watched an informational video and were given a pill to take the "edge off". Some of the group talked about their situation. One woman said she had 3 kids and couldn't have anymore, she couldn't afford it. I chose to not share my situation. The fact I was there was enough. One by one we were called and one by one taken into an examining room where we had an ultrasound. The nurse rubbed the wand over my belly, she asked if I wanted to look. I couldn't. I was about 8 weeks she said.
In another room I was told to undress from the waist down, given a paper something to cover up with and lie down. I did. Over the table, taped to the ceiling was a poster of kitten hanging on tree limb "Hang on baby" it read. To the right side of the table was some sort of pump. It resembled something from a medical experiment that possibly had gone wrong. Out of the wall a man entered. I say wall because I didn't notice a door. He was much older, tall and skinny. He spoke something to me and said to lie still. I heard a suctioning sound and felt severe cramps in my pelvic region. The noise stopped, there was movement below my waist and the suction and cramps started again. No more suction, the man said something and I felt myself bleeding onto the table. I was very alert. No pain medication or local anesthesia was administered. The pill given earlier had long worn off. I tried to not cry, look or listen. I failed miserably at the first one. I am not sure how long the termination took but when he was finished I just wanted to lay there and never face anything again. I was a murderer. I didn't want to think about what I had done. I didn't for a long time, I had pushed it so far down. I received further instruction for aftercare and was given some medicine for possible infection, a cookie and juice. I got in my car and drove home.
I was watching TV over the weekend, a documentary called 12th and Delaware. It was about an abortion clinic and pro-life organization who moved in across the street. There was a picture on a poster carried by a protester in the documentary of a baby's head in a petrie dish, it was an aborted baby. The baby's head was so small it was held between the end of tweezers. Every bit of emotion I've held in came out right then. Years of tears and hating myself flowed freely. I feel no better and there is no relief in knowing what I have done. Every year that passes it gets a little harder to suppress wondering about the little whos and whats of what might have been. At the time I felt the decision were right and it was best for everyone but mostly right for me. Now a lifetime later, I am ashamed, disgusted, sorry, heartbroken, regretful and I can't do anything about it. Sometimes I wonder if that little baby is somewhere watching over me even though I took his or her chance at life away. I hope so.
2024 Project 365 – Week Forty-nine
5 days ago
