I was 28 and had finally gotten enough confidence to get a divorce from an abusive man. I had two small children and we were fighting over who would get custody. Anyone who has been controlled by someone else knows that the first time they exert their independence is a very shaky time.
I met a married man that was very kind and it was all new to me. He said he loved me and it was easy to fall in love with someone that actually understood me. It wasn’t long until I became pregnant. I didn’t expect to become sexually active and I was so engrossed with so many other things that a reality check just wasn’t on the horizon.
I wanted this baby very much. His name was Jonathan Andrew. He was a part of me but I had no future for him. It turned out Jonathan’s father just couldn’t leave his barren wife under these circumstances. My soon-to-be ex would have had a field day in the courts with my new circumstances and I was afraid that I would loose the battle to protect my born children.
This was in 1979 so I was one of the fortunate recipients of Ms. Roe’s battle, and finding a facility to perform my abortion was easy. In fact, my health insurance even paid for the procedure. I felt that the paperwork was intrusive especially when I was required to explain to a therapist why I felt this abortion was right for me. But sometimes one has to jump through loops to get what one wants.
On the day of the surgery, Mr. Understanding was late to pick me up and I had to drive myself to the hospital. My heart was breaking and I was on the edge of tears the whole time. I chose to be put to sleep rather than risk making a scene. It didn’t work. When I awoke I was crying. The gal that helped me get dressed seemed to understand. She was kind and helpful. I guess I wasn’t the first.
Mr. U. arrived late, as usual, and except for enough time to get me home, he was off again. It took me another year to come to grips with the kind of love he had to offer and to admit to myself that as long as I participated in the relationship I would never have more than words. But it was the rebirthing that that brought the whole thing into focus.
I had a close friend that was exploring the parts of human existence that are not tangible and I sometimes walked the path with her. She encouraged me to go with her and my curiosity wouldn’t let me say no. I have never been to another rebirthing, so I cannot validate the process, but this one consisted of deep breathing until I hyperventilated. At some point I began to experience something.
In a world where there are words to describe everything it is very strange to try to communicate what at most I can only say I felt. The best translation is to say that I experienced my own birth. I felt betrayed by my best friend (my mother) because I had such a horrible headache. I also saw Jonathan there. He came to me and told me that he was all right and that what I did was meant to be. He knew that he was not meant to be born and that this was part of the plan.
Jonathan is still with me — just as my grown children are with me. They may live far away, but we have a bond that cannot be broken and that transcends words.
I live in peace today in a mutually respectful relationship where my husband and I strive together to forward our mutual and separate goals. Life is good. I can’t say that I would not be happy today if I had made different choices, but I can say, “I have no regrets.”
