I am nineteen years
old. I have been pregnant twice.
The first was when I was seventeen. I was sure it was my
boyfriends, there was no doubt about it. He was really good
about the whole thing. Except that he refused to tell me what
he wanted me to do. It wasn't that I would do whatever he
wanted me to, I just wanted to know how he felt.
I would change my mind everyday, sometimes more. I would
be sure I was going to abort it one minute then I would feel
fiercely protective of it the next. As I would walk to my
next class in the busy hallways I remember keeping on hand
on my stomach. Then I started leaving a folder or a book out
of my bag, and I would hold it on front of me, afraid someone
would elbow me in the stomach.
But this was before I even thought I was pregnant. I just
became aware of what I was/had been doing once I thought I
might be. Part of me really wanted to keep it. I've always
wanted to be a mother. And since the first pregnancy that
desire has only gotten stronger.
I made my boyfriend go and get the pregnancy test. I told
him which one and where it would be. But I didn't want to
buy it, I was afraid someone would see me. But it didn't make
much sense, because if someone we knew saw him they'd know
who it was for. Everyone knew we'd been together for a long
I also had him get me some marshmallows, the big kind, not
the miniature ones... it was one of my major craving for that
pregnancy-that and chicken strips from fudruckers. I think
my best friend and I went there for lunch nearly everyday
while I was pregnant.
So we made a few calls, carefully avoiding the pro-life
centers and ended up finding a center that would do it
with either parental
knowledge/permission or with a judge's permission. And
because of his Catholic parents and my hotheaded father we
decided to go the court route. And we were lucky. There was
a foundation set up in our area to help pay for abortions
if you couldn't pay for it all on your own. We set up an appointment
to get a pregnancy test and an ultrasound done. We both missed
our afternoon classes to do it. We had to drive forty minutes
to get there, plus the wait time in the office and all the
additional paperwork we'd have to do because of my age it
took all afternoon.
I found out I was five and a half weeks pregnant. And we
began going through the legal process required for a seventeen-year-old
to get an abortion. I 'forgot' to talk to my Dr about the
stomach pains I was having in the mornings. I guess I thought
they might be normal, and that it didn't matter if they weren't
since I was getting an abortion anyway. So our court date
was a few days away when I began to notice a little bit of
blood accompanying the pains.
After three days, I got home from school and went straight
to my room. I told my father I had a lot of work to do and
then I was going to bed early when I was done. I laid in bed
all afternoon and evening trying to find a position that would
make the pain go away. I finally took some (more) ibuprofen.
And after another couple of painful sleepless hours I took
s dose of midol. I was crying and balled up with pain. I was
praying for my baby to be ok. for me to be ok. I knew it wasn't.
I felt empty and alone. I managed to walk to the kitchen to
re heat my heating pad (it was the kind you put in the microwave.
I couldn't find the electric one) and I remember being doubled
over with pain. Half praying I would wake up my father and
he'd make everything better, half praying he'd sleep right
through it. I felt so ashamed. Like I had done the absolute
worst thing I could ever do to my family. Partly because I
knew they didn't think very much of my boyfriend. Tears were
streaming down my face I was as pale as I've ever been. I
finally made it back to bed. It was 3:17 am. I took two more
ibuprofen and passed out.
When I awoke I half expected my bed to be covered in blood.
But it wasn't. I hadn't bled through my pad or my panties.
I was surprised, but I didn't feel much better. I was exhausted.
I took a shower and got ready like it was any other day. My
boyfriend came to pick me up. On the way to school I told
him about my night. But I said I thought I was ok now. He
wanted to take me to the hospital but I wouldn't let him.
During my second class of the day I got up to go to the bathroom
down the hall. I was beginning to hurt again. I had put in
a tampon that morning, and as I pulled it out, something fell
in to the water. I looked and there was this fleshy little
mound, almost feathery, and I knew what it was. It didn't
look like a baby yet, thank god. I was seven and a half weeks
pregnant. 'was' being the key term here. I flushed the toilet
and watched as it was whisked away from me.
The rest of the day went by in a daze. I remember going back
to class and studying for my exam and acting as if everything
was fine. I just sat there. I don't remember when I told him
what happened. I don't remember calling the doctor and canceling
my appointments or the court date. I think he did it. I really
don't remember. I guess he told them we'd decided to keep
it, because they didn't question it at all. I went through
the rest of the week and the exams that followed but I don't
remember much of it. And I never went to the dr. I felt fine
after that, and couldn't bring myself to. I knew they'd probably
put me in the hospital and I didn't want anyone to know.
That was the beginning of the end of our relationship. I
didn't want to be near him anymore. I kinda felt like he was
the reason I had to go through that. We stayed together a
few more months, but I broke up with him four months later.
Ten months later I was dating another guy. We'd always known
each other, and liked each other, but it didn't go anywhere
till then. We began dating after we graduated from high school,
so toward the end of May.
By July I was pregnant, but I didn't know it. I didn't miss
a period, but I gained a little weight and my breasts began
to swell. I was constantly hungry and had to began having
to run to the bathroom all the time. So after few weeks of
ignoring it and getting another period with the other things
still present we decided to make a doctor's appointment. I
took a home pregnancy test first. And those two lines popped
up once more, but amazingly fast. It was less than ten seconds
before they were both there. I couldn't believe it. I stared
at it for awhile then went and told my fiancé.
At first there was no question what I would do. While we
had expressed we wanted to have children, I knew now wasn't
the time. So I decided to go ahead and abort it. But I put
it off. I kept thinking, I'm not that far along. I'll have
more time next week. (I had to get someone to switch hours
with me at work. I needed a full day off) so finally I sucked
it up. We drove to the clinic. The same one I went to the
time before. But this time I wasn't going to come out still
pregnant. Or so I thought. They did the ultrasound to make
sure I was pregnant and the dr told me I was twelve and a
half weeks pregnant. I definitely couldn't believe that, that
meant I had been pregnant since July... and it was September.
I had thought I was no more than six weeks. I guess I under
estimated that a bit. I was judging my how I felt the time
before. Since I was so close to the second trimester the dr
wouldn't prefer the procedure.
I had to go to another clinic that would. They called and
made an appointment for me. I had to take off another day
of work. It was a Thursday. I had pretty much stopped going
to class at all at this point. My fiancé had been taking
me in the mornings (I was in college) and all I wanted was
to sleep. So I would have him take me back to his house and
I'd fall asleep in his arms off and on all day. I left my
house early the day of the next drs appointment. I wanted
to spend some time w him before we drove all the way there.
It was now going to be nearly two hours away.
We were late to the appointment because I couldn't get out
of bed. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to do it. I wanted
everything to be different. I wanted us to be able to keep
it. I wanted us to be able to afford it, to be able to just
get married a little sooner... ok two years sooner. But it
would mess sup everything we wanted. No, everything I wanted.
I wouldn't be able to go to college. I wouldn't be able to
go to culinary school. Or open my own business. Nothing was
going to be the way we wanted it. But it didn't matter to
me at that moment. All I knew or cared about was I wanted
that baby. And I wanted us to be a happy family together.
He listened and held me, and agreed with me, while trying
t talk some sense into me. He finally talked me out of bed.
We agreed I'd go and see what the dr said. And see how I felt
So we went. And I ended up fainting from the stress and medication
before I even got to where the procedure would take place.
But I was ok. and the dr was really good. The nurse was very
strong and reassuring. She talked to me and held me the entire
time. It hurt. And I was crying. And all I wanted was to be
off that table and in his arms. With him telling me everything
was ok. and the baby was ok. while I'd like to say I'm sitting
here with my baby on my lap as I write this, I'm not. And
I don't regret what I did.
I was lucky. The staff was phenomenal. I'm so glad I had
to go there. The first one was ... cold. Unfeeling. And this
one was full of love and strength and forgiveness. They were
proud of the ones who went through it, because we were being
strong. And trying to keep from making even more mistakes.
We all knew we were there because we couldn't take care of
those babies. Or because we didn't want to make the same mistakes
our mothers did. We wanted a better life. And we wanted our
children to be taken care of, and we couldn't do that right
now. I was also lucky, because I was the last one for that
day. Once the girl before me had left the recovery room, they
let my fiancé come in with me while I was in the recovery
room. I was groggy from the anesthesia still so the first
thing I really saw/ felt as that fog lifted was my husband.
I had very little pain after the procedure was over. Very
little bleeding, etc.
I send a check to the clinic every month for making my experience
so much better than it would have been. I am very grateful
to them. because while having to go through this twice has
been hard, they kept it from being even harder.
Thanx. I'm really glad you've got a site like this out there.
It needs to be discussed. It shouldn't have to be such a secret.
more stories -- share your story