It’s been a few minutes since I opened up this new tab to write a post. I’m currently lying in bed trying to think of where to even begin with what I want to say…how to go about it in a cohesive manner. My mind is a jumbled mess, which if I’m going to be honest with myself, it’s been a mess for the past few months now. Life has been a mess lately and I suppose I really have myself to blame for it all. And yet I still don’t know where to begin.
Let me start with last night. I went out with some friends just like any typical night. We went out to eat, went back someones house and had some drinks, and then went to the bar. It was supposed to be a fun night…and it was until I found myself outside in the cold and crying. I was unfortunately that girl outside of the bar crying. All I wanted to do was calm myself down and smoke a cigarette, but one of my friends came outside and he wouldn’t leave me alone. Soon enough everyone was outside and I was a hot mess. Looking back now, I don’t know exactly what happened inside the bar before I got emotional, but something clearly triggered something I had buried deep inside of me.
Now let me rewind a few months…May to be more exact. My friend, the one I was with at the bar who wouldn’t leave me alone, had a party bus one night in May. It was fun…everything was great! I was having the time of my life since I had just turned 21 at the end of March. Some how that night I ended up in my friends bathroom with his best friend and then ended up going back to his place. Simple enough…
Everything from March until the end of June was fine. Life was great, I was going out with my friends, making new friends, and not really caring about anything. I was nannying during the week at this point and I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something wasn’t quite right. So one day I took the kids to Meijer with me and I begrudgingly picked up a damn pregnancy test. Back at the house, I made the kids lunch and snuck away to the bathroom to take the test…even though I already knew somehow that I was. The only way I can describe it is that I just had this feeling that I was. it was weird. So here I am in the bathroom taking one of those Clear Blue Digital tests because I did not want to mess around with those stupid lines. It didn’t even take the damn thing the three minutes to tell me what I already knew. Immediately I broke down in tears and called my two best friends to tell them the news. Meanwhile in the middle of all of this I have the kids knocking on the door asking if I’m okay and if I’m crying…why I’m crying. Those kids truly are special and one of a kind. Finally I emerge from the bathroom and once the kids finish up lunch I had them take naps so I could collect myself.
My first reaction was to schedule an appointment at a clinic. My second reaction was to figure out who could’ve been the father. Within two hours post-test I had an appointment at the abortion clinic set for the following week. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do for sure at this point, but I just wanted to have all my bases covered. Later that night when the kids I nannied parents got home, I told their mom. I didn’t even tell her…I just said that I needed the next Thursday off because I had an appointment and I may or may not be drugged up. And without missing a beat she asked if I was pregnant. Damn it. I was fine with telling her since her and my dad were close friends and I had known her since I was about 10 or 11. And like any other person would have me do…she grabbed another test from her bathroom and this time it was the one with the lines and even sure enough it was positive.
That night I left work and drove over to my friends apartment and the entire time I listened to Lana Del Rey’s new CD and cried. It’s all the I could do. Since that day I was a terrible hot mess. Here I was at 21 and knocked up. Honestly who wouldn’t be a mess? My days that entire week were spent working during the day and then going out and getting drunk. it wasn’t the smartest choice at all…I knew that. In my mind though I wasn’t even going to keep it so why not…right?
I knew that I had options and I want to say that I honestly did consider all of them. In my mind I had three options and none of them were easy decisions. There’s no easy way out of a situation like this. People like to sit there and tell you what they’d do if they were in this position, but it’s easy to sit there and preach to me what you’d do if you were faced with this problem. Unless you’re faced with this issue first hand…then I’m sorry but you don’t know what you’re talking about. Sure, you can try and understand, but you never will until you go through it yourself. Of the people I had told, I had people telling me different things on what I should do. Out of the few that I told only two people told me that I needed to do what was best for me and that they’d support me no matter what I decided.
I’ve always preferred to have people tell me how it is and to be honest with me…tell me what i need to hear and not what I want to hear. But in this instance it’s not useful to be told what I needed to hear. What does one ‘need’ to hear in a situation like this? Everyone is going to think that I ‘need’ to hear something different. Insert your beliefs on this red hot topic and that’s what that one person thinks that you ‘need’ to hear. All I wanted was for the people that I trusted to tell me that they love me and that they’d support any decision that I made. I understand that everyone has their own views on this sensitive subject, but it’s not up to anyone else but the woman experiencing it to decide. And if your friends and family truly love and care about you then they’d be willing to set aside their own beliefs and just be there for you.
During the days leading up to my appointment at the clinic, I would play out different scenarios of what could happen if I chose any of the options I was presented with. Sure, I was pretty set on going through with my appointment, but I still weighed my options until the very last moment. I’d stay up late at night and just think about how crazy it was that there was something inside of me depending on me to give it life. It just hit me every night that I had the ability to bring a new life into this word…that feeling is just crazy and it didn’t make my decision making any easier.
The way I saw it…I had three options. Either I keep it, give it up for adoption, or get an abortion.
If I kept it, i’d be a single mother at 21 and raising a baby on my own. I was barely able to support myself so how the hell was I supposed to support myself and a baby? I wasn’t able to…I wasn’t ready to. It wasn’t just unfair to me but to this baby as well. I’ve always said that I want to have kids when I know that I can give them the life that they deserve…the life I never had. I never want to cheat my future kids out of having an amazing life that they deserved. Plain and simple. Onto my second option…giving it up for adoption. I know that there are plenty of families out there looking to adopt as well as families that just aren’t able to conceive. I could have gone the adoption route, but I know myself. I know myself well enough to know that if I went through nine months of pregnancy and labor that I wouldn’t be able to give my child away. I’d end up keeping it, which leads us back to the first option. My last option was getting an abortion and unlike what many people like to say, it’s not the easy way out. There is no easy way out. It’s not an easy decision to make but I had to do what was best for me and this was my best possible solution. I ended up picking this route because of all of the above and more. I had…have goals in life that I want to accomplish and I’m not ready to put those on hold. I’m still so young and there’s so much for me out there in the world to experience and enjoy. This was the best possible option for me at this point in my life. It wasn’t an easy choice but it’s a decision that I’ll stand by.
A week later I had my appointment at the clinic and I found out that I was six weeks and three days along. Knowing that piece of information, I thought about it and six weeks ago would’ve been back in May. The damn party bus. I’ll never know for certain who the father would be, but I was 99.9% sure that it was the night of the party bus that this all happened. I went through with my appointment and ended up going with the medical abortion route because it was more natural. I had to take on pill while in the doctors office and then they sent me home with plenty of informative papers on what to expect, a little packet of four small white pills, and a prescription for Vicodin.I was instructed to wait between six and forty-eight hours before interesting the four pills vaginally. Yeah it was pretty gross but it needed to be done. Later that night I popped a Vicodin and finished the last step of the process. I had passed out not too long after and then woke up to the worst pain ever. It’s a weird feeling having your body basically going through labor…that’s what it essentially is. It’s just a weird feeling.
I did my best to push everything to the back of my mind and drown out my emotions while going about my day to day life.I’d like to think that I was pretty okay at it, too. One night I went out with some friends, which probably wasn’t the greatest idea since my body was still bleeding profusely. Anyways I was out at this bar and all of a sudden I see the possible baby daddy…I guess I’ll call him J and his/my friend A. I see J and I pretty much lost it….I was pissed that A hadn’t warned me that he would be here tonight. And then he told me that he talked to him about everything, which in my mind made me think that he told J about everything. Apparently he didn’t…he just asked if we used a damn condom. Fucking duh we used one! And it wasn’t any of his business anyways.
So fast forward through the months and even more shit happened. I found out that I was legit broke after I spent $600 on the procedure. That’s definitely not a great feeling. I thought that I had hit rock bottom when I got pregnant, but going broke…that had to have been rock bottom. I tried my best to stay positive through it all, but that’s a difficult task to do. There were days where I thought things were getting better, and lately things have been going more and more in my favor….until last night.
I’ve hung-out with J since the incident and it was always fine. Nothing was weird or awkward. I was under the impression that last night would be the same…but I was wrong. I knew that J was a trigger for me to think back to the past few months, and I knew that alcohol being involved wasn’t a great idea either, but it never proved to be a problem before. Well apparently all I needed was for someone to mention kids for me to lose it. Somehow A mentioned his nephew or something and that was it for me. I went outside to collect myself and ended up crying in front of A, J, and his friend S. At this point I knew that J had to know that something was up since I had freaked out twice in front of him…ad in the fact that A had asked if we used a condom…and I knew I had to tell him something. So we left A at the bar and we took S home and then we pulled over to talk. Aaaaaand I told him…I told him everything and it was terrible. He told me that he wasn’t mad, which I wasn’t expecting him to be, but it would have made me feel better if that makes any sense. Instead he was sad…sad that it happened and sad that I didn’t tell him when it happened. He said that he understood why I did what I did and that he was sorry that I had to go through with it alone. Well damn. I knew that he was a nice guy, but I’d never expect that type of response.
We were in the middle of talking when A began to blow up J’s phone, so we went back to pick him up at the bar where I was then yelled at by A to get out of the car. After sitting in the middle of the street for a good two minutes at a blinking yellow light, I told J to just drop me off at my car and that I’d meet him at his house. Once I got to my car and they left, I sat on the hood of my car and just let it all out. I cried…I cried hard. After calling my best friend and crying some more on the phone, I got in my car and drove to J’s house. Soon enough we were sitting in his room and it was just weird… I asked him what A said but to be completely honest I forgot what he said. After an apologetic call from A telling me that I was fine and that he wasn’t mad at me, I was finally able to talk to J. It was more like me sitting on the bench in his room while he sat on his bed and I stared at the ground. I said I was sorry over and over again…because I was and he kept telling me that it was okay. After maybe twenty minutes we decided to go have one last cigarette before I left and went home. And that’s where I managed to fuck things up even more.
We were walking upstairs to go outside when J grabbed my arm. He turned me around and pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. That wasn’t supposed to happen…not at all. But my ass went along with it. We did end up going outside to smoke and while I was intending on going home. I did intend on it because I put on my cardigan and brought my purse with me outside, but once we finished smoking, J asked if I wanted to come back inside. Again not supposed to happen. But it did happen and I followed him back inside to his room. This time we both sat on the bed and I just continued to fuck up my life because apparently that’s what I do best. What I don’t understand is why he wanted to sleep with me after I had just told him that he could have been a father. My friend told me that it’s because guys are dominant and something or other…
My mind is still a jumbled mess and I think that it’s just going to remain that way for a while. I thought that I’d feel better telling J about everything, but I feel numb now. I suppose that I’m relieved that he knows now, but does it help any? I’m not sure yet. All I know is that I feel numb.
I have learned one thing from this entire situation though. I was pro-choice before, but now after going through it personally, I’m a strong believer and supporter of pro-choice. I’ll fight to defend this right because it’s not up to any man in any government office to tell women what they can and cannot do with their bodies. No one, man or woman, has the right to tell any women what they get to do with their bodies. This is my story and I’m not ashamed of it at all.