It's strange to think that I share such a similar
yet different story with so many other women. That thought comforts and alarms
me at the same time. Kris
I discovered I was pregnant in March of 1999. I
was 17, yet to turn 18 in May. I had slept with a friend a few times and then
missed my period. I somehow managed to convince myself that a nonexistent change
in diet had changed my cycle but I realize now that I always knew what was true.
So I bought a test on my break at work and took it in the bathroom. As I sat in
the office watching the test show positive, I registered absolutely no emotion.
I think I tried to cry because I thought I should but I felt absolutely nothing.
My manager, who was also a good friend, was very understanding. He offered to
let me go home, he gave me advice. I guess I talked with him for awhile and then
went back to work.
After work I stopped by Thomas's house to tell him.
It was quite awkward since we weren't really dating but were friends. I had had
another coworker call his girlfriend who drove over to work and gave me some information
on an abortion clinic about an hour and a half away. I showed this information
to Thomas, talked with him for a minute or two and went home.
days later I told my close friends, one of whom worked in a natural food store.
We went to her house one night and made a tea that was supposed to cause abortion
naturally. I also remember that we had lots of fun that night but it was twinged
with sadness. My friends are all three or four years older than I and one had
been pregnant and had a miscarriage so she could somewhat relate. Unfortunately
I was too far along for the tea to work so I had to make the appointment.
Thomas and I grew incredibly close during this time and we still are, that
is one amazing thing that came out of it. He has always been there for me and
I know he would do anything at all to help me even thought we are not together
today. We are great friends.
So on April 10th, I went and had my abortion.
I remember eating a lot of caramels in the waiting room and loving the feeling
of the sedative as it kicked in. I could not tell you what the doctor looked like,
nor the nurse. I could not tell you what was on TV in the waiting room for patients.
I can remember feeling so strange being half dressed. I usually dress from the
bottom up so being only dressed from the top to the waist was an incredibly weird
feeling. I remember the sound being very invasive, more so than the procedure
itself. After it was over, in the recovery room, I was in a lounge chair with
a blanket and I felt nothing again. I have chronic depressive disorder, I did
before this happened and still do, which I think tremendously added to my flat
affect and the feeling of being "blank girl."
On the drive home we were
silly and I was tired. We told dumb jokes and stories to keep from talking about
it. We did eventually though, and I don't know that putting it off did any harm.
Then we got to his house and took a deep long nap. There had been no sleep the
night before, we talked and listened to some music together.
I am so
glad that we are still friends, and I feel lucky. I never did tell my parents
and that doesn't bother me. At first I was overcome with guilt and sadness. I
felt like a walking grave. Over the next year that subsided but I still carry
it with me today.
I know I made the best choice for everyone. I feel
incredibly confused about it and at times I feel badly because I don't think about
it every day. But somehow, I have a strange self-love as a woman for having the
abortion. I feel very in touch with my body partly because I know what it can
do. I know how to read it. Many women do not so I feel lucky in that respect.
Abortion is an individual choice and I am glad I was able to make the best one
for me. It took time to become comfortable with my decision and to love my body
for it's ability to bleed and reproduce. It's an amazing thing.
23 February 2001
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can't live our dreams until we can name them. Despite decades of progress, too
many women are still silent - victims of oppression, discrimination and their
own fears. In helping them discover their voices, I am finding my own."