Facebook just informed me, without realizing it had, that my abortion took place 5 years ago from yesterday (January 13). And it still makes me feel dead inside when I think about it. I can remember the day pretty well, but mostly as a dreamy, drug hazed memory.
I remember walking into the lobby, looking around and judging the poor girls around me with their mothers, getting ready to have their own procedures done. They were teenagers, and while I probably looked about 15 or 16, I just turned twenty a few months before and was more than willing to have that child.
There is a lot of blame I could put on the bio-dad for that particular moment in my life (and for many others, believe me), I occasionally still do, but it’s hard not to blame myself just as much. I regret a lot from the situation, and if I could, I would probably take it back. I would definitely take it back.
I regret taking a grandchild from my parents, and robbing my sister of a niece and a best friend for my niece and nephew. And none of them will ever know because how can I break their hearts now. I regret giving in to a plan that was basically decided for me the moment I let the words slip out that I was pregnant. I regret the enjoyment I took in the drugs that sedated me while my baby died, and I regret the relief I felt immediately after it was done.
I can’t say my life has been easier after doing what I thought I would never do, but it turned out a lot differently than I could have imagined it would.
Bio-dad and I didn’t last much longer after that, which is not a surprise. I never forgave him, I don’t think I ever could, even if I do end up missing him from time to time. Our life together was steeped in so much heartbreak and conditional love, there could be no turning back.
I’ve been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, and fight it without the drugs I need because I will probably just try to kill myself again. I’ve been in emotionally draining and abusive relationships. And, while I’m almost positive none of the bullshit I’ve gone through would have happened with a beautiful baby in my arms, what if it had?
I don’t regret saving my child from a life that could have been less than it deserved, with bitter parents and a possible fear of commitment. I don’t regret saving it from having to see me half dead on the floor, or in fits of depression and paralyzing anxiety.
A lot weighs on my heart when I think about the joy I could have had in my life, but they don’t come without the thoughts of how much I couldn’t have done for her.
It’s a hard situation to be in, to imagine yourself in, or to imagine for others. In a world that is trying desperately to take away the rights of women over their own bodies, I ask you to pause and think about the struggles that those women have to go through. The demons in their minds and possibly in their lives are hard to ignore.