– Guest submission
From January to about March,
I’d been having some bad pains in my side. I figured it was an ovarian cyst, as I get them often. But this time, it was a different kind of pain. I’d had periods, had a pap and pelvic, and a negative pregnancy test. So when the pain got to the point where I could not move out of bed or keep anything down, I decided to go to the hospital. It was 4 days after my birthday.
At the hospital, I was taken in for an ultrasound.
It was in that room that my world quickly spiraled away. I felt like I was in “The Descent Into The Maelstrom”. There, they silently turned the screen to me and showed me a fully formed 13 week fetus wiggling around. I completely lost it. My boyfriend at the time lived out of state, and I hadn’t seen him in, you guessed it, about 13 weeks. It was pressing against something in my uterus and was causing a hemorrhage.
They said it wasn’t a healthy pregnancy.
Honestly, I was amazed at the lack of care for my own wellbeing after it was found I was pregnant. Everyone focused on the life inside me encouraging me telling me it was gonna be okay. But my mind was already made up. The very next Monday after the weekend, I called and set up an appointment at the clinic. My best friend came over for support and everything. The night before, as I laid in bed cuddling my best girl, panicking, I drifted off to sleep. I had a dream I was laying in a bed and a nurse held my hand and asked me “are you sure you want to kill your daughter?” And I woke up in a cold sweat. The whole drive there I kept asking myself if it was a sign. Do I really have an actual mini me inside of me right now? DO I want to terminate this?”
I questioned it, but internally I already knew my mind wasn’t going to change.
I walked into the clinic trying to hold my head high as protestors screamed horrible, horrible things to me, my mom and my best friend and threw stuff at us. I attacked one but was pulled off a security, before promptly having another breakdown in the parking lot.
The wait was forever.
When I was finally taken back they did another ultrasound. Cue yet another breakdown– I was told I was 14 almost 15 weeks pregnant and the doctor there today doesn’t do terminations at that stage. I had to come back the next day, and pay another $100 (altogether I paid $650). I was a wreck the entire 24 hours waiting. When morning finally came, I was ready. My best friend held my hand as we walked together into the building.4 misoprostol, some serious IV drugs, and 4 hours later, I woke up, woozy and was told to get dressed and make sure to double up the pads.
I looked around the room and saw a wad of bloody towels
In my drugged state I asked if that was my baby, obviously it wasn’t. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wasn’t sore, I just had mild/kinda bad cramps. But I did bleed. A lot. For about 3 weeks. I had night terrors for a while. Not because I regretted my decision, not at all. What traumatized me most, as selfish as it may sound, was not being TOLD by the staff I was pregnant. It was the way the nurse just stared at me coldly as she turned the screen to me.
Overall, I put myself and my health first.
The relationship I was in was a volatile, cruel, long-distance relationship. I’m glad it’s all over though, and if I were to get pregnant with my new partner, I don’t think I’d ever consider going down that road again.
Xoxo, K. E. K.
– Guest submission