Why didn’t I just go home? I couldn’t go back and admit defeat. It was hard enough without losing another part of myself. So I stuck with it.
Fast forward to the clinic.
We arrived early in the morning to the clinic. I wished for protestors so that maybe we would have to turn around and go back. My boyfriend just dropped me off. The appointment was going to take a good five hours so he left.
The whole process left me feeling like cattle being herded and led to the slaughter.
There were so many women I would say 50+ and they brought us into different rooms. There was the waiting room, ultrasound room where they looked at my child. I wondered if it was a boy or a girl. Back to a waiting room, off to the blood work room, I had a big fear of needles and this was my first experience with blood being drawn. The lady yelled at me to grow up…the exact words evade me…but that is the gist of what I heard. On to another room where we could change into our “comfortable clothes”. In this room they handed out small white little cups with two pills. One pill to relax us and one pill to start some sort of contractions. In any of these rooms hardly none of the women spoke. A couple of “veterans” talked a little about how this was their second or third, but mostly it was silent except for the sucking vacuum sound down the hallway.
Then we were called to travel down the hallway into the room where the abortion would be performed. The actual room I can only see in flashes, I think there were two stations to perform abortions. We were told to get on the table and put our feet in the stirrups only a thin piece of paper separated my flesh from the cold steel table. I see the nurse comforting me telling me its going to be alright. But it was never alright.
Our last room was the recovery room that was lined with cots. We were told to drink some pop and eat a cookie and make sure we could keep it all down. They pushed really hard for you to get out of this room. I don’t remember too much of the pain or what I was feeling then. When I left, I walked off the steps of the clinic and lost my composure. I can only describe it as a forceful welling of emotions that spilled over into tears and then anger followed along with my vow to never have children.
I always tell people that this was not the end of my story. It was only the beginning. After this followed years of abuse, rape, suicidal thoughts, self hatred. I was a walking time bomb. But then came faith, hope, and love.
Abortion no longer defines me and who I am, but Christ who lives in me. I share my story because every time I do, it loses it’s power.