This abortion wasn’t even my decision at all. My mom was never there for me, my whole life. I knew she was going to freak out and call me names, and demean me. But I could deal with that. I always have, and that made me want to strive even harder to keep my Angel and be successful doing it. She was no problem to deal with, just another obstacle. Just someone I had to prove wrong. But she beat me. She was right.
But, my grandma…she hurt me. With all the pain and disappointment in her eyes every time I looked at her. She was there for me throughout the whole thing, whether I kept the baby or not I knew she was going to be there. She just wanted the best for me. “You need to get an abortion. It’s only a one-day thing.” That abortion was not just a one-day thing. It’s still hurting me, every second of the day. But I think I need to be sad, it’s okay to be sad. I lost my baby and anyone would be sad because of that. She just wanted to help me; she wanted what was best for me.
But in the back of my mind I always remember I could have kept that baby and she would have been there for me. Why didn’t I think it through more? I couldn’t live at home. It was mostly my mom’s decision, even though it IS my grandma’s house. But if I did live there during the pregnancy, there would have been constant physical fighting and arguments between my mom and me and there would have been arguments with my mom and grandma about me living there; she’s 74 years old, she didn’t need that. So I understood. She didn’t want me out on the streets, my mom did.
They would have gotten over it. That’s the thing. Once that baby was born, they would have realized a little, that my baby is a part of our family. I know they would have loved him. I don’t know why I didn’t think about that… I don’t know why I didn’t think about a lot of things.
My boyfriend’s parents knew I was pregnant, but barely had ANY involvement during the WHOLE thing. Actually, quite frankly, they did nothing. At the time I thought that my only option was to live there, with my boyfriend. Which made sense, he was the baby’s father and I had nowhere to go. When he told me that his mom said that I couldn’t live with him, I couldn’t believe it. It made no sense to me. I still don’t understand. No one stepped in and said anything. No one did anything. At that time it was all about somewhere to live, and I would have kept my baby. All I needed was somewhere to sleep and be during the pregnancy. I could go home, and eat, pick up food, buy clothes with my grandma, etc. I just needed somewhere to spend my pregnancy.
She’s HIS mom, she let us go upstairs, lock the door and let me sleep over. We are teenagers. A 15-year-old and a 14-year-old, and as teenagers we are obviously very irresponsible. She knew we were having sex. Yet, when I got pregnant, she did nothing, as if she had absolutely nothing to do with it. But I do know that I was the one having sex, making the decision. I was the one who didn’t go to a shelter. I was the one who got pregnant and didn’t protect my baby. I was the one in the end who ended his life, not anyone else. And that pains me even more. It’s so hard to go to school every day knowing that. It’s hard to even wake up in the morning. At night it’s the worst for me. I’ll sit and I’ll hold my baby’s onesy that says, “I love mommy,” I’ll just cry and cry. I miss my baby. I miss feeling of my stomach stretching from the inside; it was the strangest feeling….I miss everything about being pregnant. I miss everything so much. I miss knowing that when only I was in a room, I wasn’t really alone. I would always talk to him and tell him how much I loved him. I told him everything was going to be OK. I lied.
I’m just sad; it’s even hard to breath sometimes you know? I get this weird empty feeling in my chest. It’s so emotionally and physically painful it just makes me feel like I can’t go on anymore sometimes. It’s not like I didn’t know it was going to be like this. I knew it was going to be like this. I knew myself; I knew that something like this, my heart just wouldn’t be able to handle it. But yet I went through with it anyways.
After I had gotten the picture of my baby, my blood taken, and everything else, they called me into the abortion room. I was the last person there. Then the nurse and doctor came in. The doctor was this black guy, and the nurse looked like she was like 16. Which isn’t possible, but she looked like it. I was freaking out, shaking, terrified. They kept asking SO many questions, about dumb things and smiling and laughing like it was nothing. I just wanted them to SHUT UP and get it over with. They had to give me two shots of numbing stuff, and another shot because I was so far along they had to dilate my cervix. Those numbing shots did nothing but hurt. I felt everything. I felt my Angel being sucked out of me, and it hurt so badly. I wanted to cry, I couldn’t breathe. They kept on asking me questions, I guess to take my mind off of what was going on. But I just wanted to cry, and slap them in the face. I was just thinking, “How can you take this baby out of me, and sit there and watch like it’s no big fucking thing.” I remember I kept thinking that, and being in so much pain. I also remember constantly thinking, “Oh my God, my baby is being sucked out of me, with a fucking tube.” That was the worst day and the worst pain of my life. Afterward in the recovery room is when it hit me. I just started crying. Not tears just rolling down, I was BALLING. I was crying my head off.
There was a girl sitting next to me and she went and told this fat nurse that I was crying; the lady didn’t do anything but look at me! I was in so much pain and I just wanted to get out of there. Once I got out, I felt a lot better. Thank God.
From Priests for Life. Used with permission.
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