Yesterday I was 8 weeks pregnant. Today I'm not.
During the consultation I knew the medical abortion wouldn't be what I wanted, having to pass the baby on my own and actual see its remains would make this too realistic, too lasting a memory. So I opted for surgical abortion, I'd go in, I'd be put to sleep and I'd wake up like it never happened.
On the day I couldn't fault the medical staff they were polite, they were efficient and they didn't question or judge me. My ward had 3 other women all different ages and different backgrounds, from the bits of conversation I overheard between the background noise of the radio, one was a mother of 3, one a teen who's mum had dropped her off, the other in her 40's and caught off guard and then there was myself a final year university student. This comforted me a little bit, knowing that I wasn't alone and that I wasn't just a stereotypical abortion, maybe there's no such thing anyone can have one for any number of reasons.
After the second women there was a delay possibly complications, not that they would tell me and the other women that in case we got panicked but sitting there in a hospital bed in my gown I couldn't help staring at my stomach. When it was finally my turn to go to theatre there was the typical small talk, the distractions while they placed my IV and moved me on to the bed and then I woke up. I wasn't sore, I didn't feel violated like I was worried I might, it was as if nothing had happened.
I don't know if you've ever had surgery but for your initial recovery they place you in a room with other people fresh from theatre to check you're okay before you're sent back to your ward.
Now normally this would have been fine but due to the delays with the previous women my surgery was 2 hours late meaning that behind the thin curtains next to me was a couple. A couple who were gushing about the healthy arrival of their twin boys. A combination of my freshly awake state and in comparison to the silent camaraderie of the women in the abortion wing this caught me off guard. Until now I'd been fine with my decision, I managed to hold back the tears. It wasn't until I was at home hours later sat in my bathroom that I actually let myself cry.
I know I made the right decision. I know I wouldn't have been able to cope but the sheer joy in that women's voice made me judge myself. What I'm trying to say is that regardless of how strong you are, and how much you stand by your decision you're allowed to be upset. My plan currently is to let my emotions catch up with my head, talk to as many people as I need to about this situation and then put it behind me and move on, and hopefully anyone else in my situation is able to do the same.