When I went to Planned Parenthood, I took a pregnancy test and I also got a 10 minute office talk in which they told me the places to go if I wanted to keep the baby, set it up for adoption or abort it.

So, I went home and called a local feminist health center. I told them that I would like to set up an appointment.

"Okay, let’s see...within the next two weeks. How about tomorrow?" And so it went. Once I had made my decision, everything fell into place.

My mom and I went into the clinic. We both had to present our ID, my client number and not bring any bags with us (they have had security problems in the past). So I went through yet another pee test, blood test, blood pressure- it was 172/96! (I think I was nervous.) In the counseling session, the lady told me the risks of abortion, asked my reasons for the abortion, if I was sure I wanted to do what I was doing and if I wanted information on birth control. My mom and I went up to the top floor of the large Victorian house. I changed into a cloth blue johnny that was more like a nightgown than those horrible paper things you have to wear at the doctor’s office. Overall, it was rather welcoming and comforting. Then it was my turn.

A nurse came and walked my mom and I back to the room, where a male doctor sat with his back turned to us and was reading my sheet. He turned around and told me to lie down on the bed. I had a little idea of what it was going to be like, from the paper that they had given me to read.

According to the handout, this is how it should be: exam by doctor, local anesthetic to the cervix, gentle dilation of the cervix, hook up to the aspiration machine, feel cramping and it is over in 5 minutes. ‘Okay,’ I thought. ‘I can do that.’ I still expected that they would also tell me what they were doing as they went, like when you have your first pap. The nurse, I thought, would be there to calm me and say reassuring things like, "It will be okay. You are doing just fine, breathe, relax, etc." But she did not. The nurse hardly even spoke to me and the doctor only said, “So you spent some time in El Salvador? ¿Habla español?" The only nice person in there was my mom; silently there for me, smiling and close.

So it started.... At first, it was fine, like when you get a pap and they scrap your cervix for the smear; then there was a lot of noise, kind of like metal sliding across metal and a cramp. Then it stopped, briefly. It continued, however, and the cramps just kept getting closer and closer together and stronger and stronger. I had never felt anything like it before. It was not the strongest pain I have ever felt but it was one of those pains that made me think, “Owww, get out of there. There shouldn't be a pain there to begin with. What are you doing? You can stop NOW!”

Then the nurse spoke up, “Now you will feel more cramping and the machine will turn on (so what he had been doing was dilating the cervix). You are doing very well.” Sweat had broken out on my face. There was a strong cramp and he hooked up the machine and it was at that time when I thought to myself, “I can either complain and squeeze and fight the pain or I can concentrate on something and try to calm myself.” So I started regulating my breathing; after about ten breaths, it was over.

The doctor pulled the machine out and the nurse went to look at the tissue. All I wanted to do was curl on my side and hold my belly.

"Okay, you can sit up," the female nurse said to me. "Do you meditate?"

“No, I was just breathing. I needed to concentrate on something other than the pain.”

"You did very well." She and my mom slowly walked me into the recovery room, me feeling very faint. I lay down on a couch with a heating pad on my belly and blanket over my legs while another nurse gave me apple cider and took my blood pressure. It was 84/46. "Wow you can just stay here for a while." I wasn't going anywhere.

"How are you doing?" my mom asked me. It was the first thing she had said since I changed into the johnny.

I slowly turned my head toward her, wryly grinned and said, ‘I won't do that again,’ as I heard the last abortion of the day being performed in the other room.

There was a book in the waiting room, the youngest abortion was 8 years old and the oldest was 52. A girl had been back 5 times for an abortion. However, knowing what I know today, I would never have an abortion. The stress on your body, the pain... If I ever get pregnant again, it will be full term.

I am glad that I had the choice of abortion; I am the only person that has the right to decide what is best for me. I had felt that my life was on hold and this was the best decision that I could have made for myself. I have always felt that everything that I do is a learning experience. I don't regret it. I learn from it. I feel better now.

Do I ever wonder about the baby? Yes, it vaguely passes through my head occasionally. When my nephew was born, I bawled as I looked at him in the nursery. A part of it, I have to admit, now, to myself, was for my loss when I had the abortion 9 months earlier. I knew then, and I still know now, that it was the right choice to make and I don’t regret it. But, still, there is a loss. My nephew makes me happy. I know that, eventually, I want to have children, but I figure that for now, I will take care of him that way, he is the closest thing that I have to a child of my own.