For a month my breasts were extremely sore, but I just figured, oh any day now my period will start, I’m fine. Well, when finals week came around I was more than stressed already. I confessed to my roommate that I thought I may be pregnant. She was very supportive, but was also saying, well, you don’t know for sure yet. She happened to have an old pregnancy test in her closet. She handed me the box and said, it’s expired, so don’t read too much into the results, but at least it may give you some peace of mind. I thanked her but told her that I would wait until after finals to take it, I thought it would be better that way. Well, I couldn’t take not knowing, so I took it later that night. Sure enough, I was pregnant. But since she had said it expired, I had to know for sure. I went to the store and bought another home pregnancy test kit, with two tests. I took one of them, and when it said positive, I knew for sure. Although, inside I think I already knew for a few weeks. I did some research online, and it said that sometimes tests will come out positive if you’ve been really stressed, i.e. Finals. It suggested waiting a week and taking another test to be sure. I took the other test (my 3rd) a week later…and it was positive. Of course, this was just what I needed my junior year of college, with a guy that isn’t my boyfriend, whom I hadn’t seen since Thanksgiving, that already has a new girlfriend.

Needless to say I was in shock. Part of me knew it, but the other part just didn’t want to believe it. My roommate was extremely supportive, and still is. After I took the third test I called up Scott to come over for a chat. He wanted to know what I had to talk about so I told him over the phone. My statement was followed by about 30 seconds of silence, then a very weak sounding “are you ok?” Luckily Scott has been pretty good about the whole thing.

I was too afraid to tell my family, especially with it being Christmas. We were going on a sort of vacation over break to help my brother move, and I felt like it was a more than inappropriate time to say “hey, guess what I’m pregnant and scared shitless!” I waited until after I started up my spring semester and knew that it was a now or never moment. I knew that if I called my mom she would go nuts, and I would never get the chance to get out everything that I had to say so I called my dad. When I told him, he was basically like, “well, that’s a shock, but it definitely explains why you were acting so weird when we were on vacation”. I normally am in LOVE with Mexican food, I could live off it, and when we were in California, I thought I was going to hurl every time they dragged me to a Mexican restaurant, which was every day, sometimes twice a day. My dad was very supportive off the bat, but my mom called me a slut, but has since apologized and also been very supportive. I told them that I planned on having an abortion. Something that I had always planned if this happened to me, even though I thought that I was immune to it. I definitely weighed all my options, but knew that I had too many plans for my future that would never happen if I kept it, and I also knew that I would never be able to carry the child to term and then give it up for adoption.

I called my best friend who lives in a big city about 3 hours away, coincidentally the closest place to my college that provides abortions, and made plans to visit her, and also plans for the procedure. My parents also drove down to be with me. The people at the clinic was very nice, and although they told me I would only be there for 2 to 3 hours, it ended up being 8 hours, without food. I took my best friend into the room with me when I got the vaginal ultrasound and it turns out that I was 13 weeks along. I had thought that I was 11 weeks, maybe 12 max, so this came as a huge shock to me. I knew that the procedure would be different and that it would also cost more money. I felt like I had to remake my decision all over again, and was terrified. I started bawling, and just looked at my friend and said, can you please go get my dad and bring him in here. My dad is a doctor, although not related in any way to this sort of thing, and I knew that I was too scared to know the right questions to ask. Luckily my dad asked every question under the sun that I would have never thought to think of, and when we realized that it was still safe to get the procedure, we decided to.

Since I was farther along, I needed to get my cervix dilated to about 3 centimeters. It was the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt (and I’ve had a nipple pierced, so that’s telling you something), with no pain meds. I was terrified, and had no one in the room with me for comfort, since my best friend had left to get my dad, and my dad had left to tell my mom what was going on. It was just a big miscommunication. I then had to wait an hour for my cervix to dilate, which was uncomfortable because of the cramping.

When they finally took me in for the procedure, I made sure that my dad was in there with me. It might seem like a weird choice, but he was all the support I needed. I got an injection of something they called the ‘twilight’ something or other, where you’re awake but out of it at the same time. I’ve never done drugs, but if it’s anything like that, I can understand why they are so addicting. I could hear everything going on, but I was in a trippy state so, I didn’t care. They only things I could hear that mattered were the nurse and my dad telling me over and over that I was doing great and to breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. It seemed like forever, but at the same time, seemed like it only took 30 seconds. In reality it might have taken 5 minutes. The nurse helped me put my pants and such back on and helped me to the recovery room where I was given some painkillers and information for aftercare. I waited for about a half hour before I was allowed to leave.

Afterwards I went out to eat with my parents and best friend at a pretty nice restaurant. Before I even made it to the table, I was running to the bathroom to throw up. Pain killers and empty stomach must not be a good combination. As I was throwing up, I heard 2 girls laughing and making fun of me, they thought I was bulimic. I would have given them a piece of my mind, but was too busy staring at the toilet. After that, I ate some dinner, and I’ve been fine ever since.

Sometimes I’m sad, but for the most part, I just feel relieved. I know that I made the decision that was best for me.