I am 18 years old and engaged to a wonderful 19 year old man. I want children, I love them, and I want to have my fiancé’s child. We always had a plan: if I got pregnant before we were ready to support a child, I’d abort.
At the end of February 2008, I went to my gynecologist for a routine check-up. Actually, I needed a pap smear to get back on birth control because we’d been using condoms, but I wanted either the pill or the patch. The intake nurse asked if I wanted a pregnancy test. I said sure, just in case. I had no idea, but after I found out, it all made sense. Breast tenderness, weird cravings, feeling ill (but not throwing up) in the morning, being way over-emotional, it was there, but I never connected the dots.
We knew what to do and decided there in the office: abortion. My gynecologist is NAF (National Abortion Federation) approved and she set me up with Planned Parenthood for an abortion the next week. I was in a whirl of emotions. I didn’t know how to react. I knew I was doing the right thing: I had been drinking a lot and had been prescribed Vicodin and Tylenol with Codeine after my expected conception date. Plus, we’re college students and living with his parents and his sister’s who both have children. It’s a full house and we can’t afford to be on our own. I also self-injure and am bulimic, in recovery, but I promised myself that I would never expose my children to that.
I had a medication abortion. When I went to the Planned Parenthood, there were only 5 picketers. I was fine until the last guy who yelled out “Mother! Don’t kill your child.” It unnerved me, because I wasn’t a mother, was I? It was something I never thought of, never conceived that I was a mother. No, I’m not. I’m not a mother, it’s not my time. Like I said, it unnerved me and I was feeling very odd, but after speaking with the nurse I felt 100% better and so much more resolved in my decision.
After I took my misoprostol the day after I took the Mifeprex, I told my mother. She cried, I cried, but she told me that all decisions are made for a reason. She held me and was there for me. My fiancé was there too, holding my hand, watching movies with me until the cramping got very intense. It was good to have that kind of support, to be able to cry and feel sad but also feel happy and relieved without any kind of judgment.
Afterwards, I took a day or two to rest, and then was back on my feet. My life changed, but only in that I know I need to be more aware. I’m getting an IUD at my 3 week check-up. My friends are still my friends, my fiancé and I are stronger than ever, and my mom and I are just a little closer now.
I was 7 weeks pregnant when I aborted and I’m not sorry. Not one bit.
