In 1997, I was in college and met up with a much younger guy. It was purely a sexual relationship at first, but then I was stupid enough to confuse sex with love. Things were rosy at first, as first attractions often are, and then his true manipulative colors started coming out, and I became more dependent on him. I ended up transferring schools because he told me he was moving back to his hometown (Podunk rural MN) whether I came along with him or not. Idiotically, I went along and started up at an inferior school. He became increasingly threatening, verbally, and emotionally abusive towards me, and refused counseling, saying I had the problem not him. Of course, his family believed he could do no wrong. I was stuck, since I was going to school full time and not working. He held all the power, and reveled in it.
A few miserable months went past, and I became very ill. Almost constant nausea, vomiting, blinding headaches and fainting occurred on a daily basis. I also became lactose intolerant and unable to eat anything much except saltine crackers (I can’t eat those to this day!) and ginger ale. I lost at least 15 lbs in those few weeks, since I couldn’t eat. I had no idea what was wrong with me, since I was told I was infertile (due to the violence and sexual abuse I had endured as a child). You could believe my shock when I went to a clinic and was told I was pregnant. Right away I started looking up Planned Parenthood clinics that did abortions in the Twin Cities. The abuse crested then, since he was hoping to beat me into a miscarriage, which didn’t happen.
A good friend of mine (who is now my husband) offered to drive us to the clinic. I was terrified. There were nosy idiotic lifers at the clinic (since it was the day before Thanksgiving) yelling “don’t kill your baby…” blah blah blah. I was so angry at them. How dare they impose on my personal choice! I’m not white, my kid would be no good to them on the black market, so why didn’t they leave me the fuck alone?!
They were nice at the clinic, and the procedure was only a little uncomfortable, a tugging and some pressure (I had a local anesthetic) for about 5 minutes (I was 9 1/2 weeks along) and then it was over. I felt “normal” almost right after. It was almost a giddy feeling, that I was ME again. I rested in the waiting room, and stuffed my face with cocoa and delicious graham crackers. Nothing had ever tasted as good as they did at that very minute. After a bit of resting, I was free to go home. Asshole ex and I argued again, and he left. The very next day, he tried to sneak his stuff out without me knowing, we argued again, and he refused anger management, and we broke up.
A few weeks later, he wanted me back, but I refused. Then he started stalking me and claiming I “murdered” his child. (which he didn’t want in the first place). He also quit his job as soon as he realized I was pregnant to deny me any support. I threatened him with police involvement and he finally quit.
Today, I am a high honors student in college, married to that wonderful man who drove me to the clinic on that day, and lead a wonderful childfree, kitten and ferret-filled life-none of which would be possible if I had had a kid.
