I was 17 years old when I had my first and only abortion.
I immediately knew that I needed to have an abortion, my son was only 8 months old and I was so young. I called my sister pretty much right away and we planned to bus into the big city 2 hours away where the nearest clinic was. I called the clinic, hiding in my basement and speaking into the receiver with a hushed tone. It didn't even feel real.
One week was all I had with my baby.I pretended that I was just expecting and that I was happy, healthy. That I could keep my baby and did not have to give up on her, myself. I felt her move for the first time and then again and again and I fell in love even more. Eventually the week passed and it was time to go. I should mention that at this point, I was under the impression that I was 15 weeks pregnant, not 18 (18 weeks by the time the week was over). My calculations were way off.
When I arrived at the high security clinic, a cold man greeted us, demanded identification and searched our bags. When we went inside there was a good amount of young teen boys sitting waiting around reading magazines. We both sat down and filled out the applications. After this I was taken into a room, talked to about my options, signed documents, papers, looked at brochures, birth control options... I then went for an ultrasound and it was determined that I was 18 weeks pregnant, which would require me to stay 2 days at the clinic versus just 1 day. My infant son was 2 hours away. I had nobody to watch him for the next day, after many, many phone calls were made, we found a place to stay and carried on with the appointment.
I saw her. I saw my baby.Just a slight glimpse, I wasn't sure if I was allowed to look. But now looking back, I wish I had, I really wish I just saw her, really had a long look at my baby girl. I have nothing left of her now, like she never was important, or never existed or was real to anyone else but me.
After the ultrasound I went into the Operating room and sticks of some type of seaweed were inserted in me to dilate me over a 24 hour period of time. I was having contractions all night, it felt like labour, exactly the same as it had been with my son just 8 months earlier. After a night of no sleep, me and my sister made our way back to the clinic. I was promptly ushered into the same room as before and the procedure began, at this point I had almost changed my mind, but it was too late, she was already coming.
I was laid down, feet up, given anaesthesia and began to drift. I remember pain, screaming out my son's name and begging for my fiancé to help me. It hurt a whole bunch. I felt them break my water. I felt her life drain away, out of me. They had an ultrasound screen right next to me, with her, and them "taking care" of her. I saw them cut her up. I saw her die. And when I said "please can you turn that away", they only dismissed it, told me no, to turn my head...I couldn't move, I was too out of it, too drugged up. I had to watch my beautiful baby, that I loved, that I wanted, that I cherished, die. At my own hands. And then I felt her, her skin next to mine. For just a split second but I will never forget it. I felt her small body touching mine as I gave birth to her, well part of her. And disturbingly enough feeling her for a split second was one of the best moments of my life. I have nothing left of her. Nobody acknowledges that she was ever here, lived, existed. I've lost friends, best friends. I've lost my sanity and gone into depths of psychosis. I've lost my will to live at times. I miss you so much. I love you so much.