A little support?

Hello everyone. I've been "lurking" around the site ever since I had my abortion 6 days / a week ago, but I haven't posted anything until now. I'm so glad I came across this site ... it's nice to see something moderate, not pro-choice or pro-life, but just accepting. Why can't more of society be like this?

I've come here for support, I guess. I don't think I'm entirely sure at this point what I need or what I'm looking for. Nobody knows I was pregnant except my gay guy friend who I had to get to drive me. And I was just dying inside, I needed to tell someone. He is the only one in my life I have that would just support me without judging or scolding me or telling me they didn't want me to have an abortion or everything else along those lines. I feel so bad keeping it from my closest friends. Actually I only have two really close friends. The rest of my friends think I'm even still a virgin, I think. I haven't even talked very much to this friend who knows since high school. (I'm 21 now, a senior in college.) But he's the only one I could tell ...

So here is my story ...

I've been a pretty strong Christian most of my life, and I entered college swearing that I would never have sex until I was married. And then I started doubting everything I believed. Which is rather ironic considering that I'm attending Baylor, the world's largest Baptist university. (And hence it's hard to find people who are friendly towards sex outside of marriage or abortion ... ) About a month into my freshman year I met Jeremy, and after dating for a week we went to being just friends, and over time we became best friends. And then in my second semester we became best friends "with benefits". The decision to give up my virginity was very conscious and I thought about it for a long time and I have no regrets about that, except maybe that it was with him.

We remained best friends with benefits for quite a while. I fell in love, I thought, but realized that he was not in love with me, and buried the emotion. But in the fall of my sophomore year I started dating someone else, and all of a sudden Jeremy realized that he loved me. But when he found out I had had sex with the guy I was dating, he said he couldn't be friends with me anymore. I begged him not to leave me. I broke up with the guy (not only for Jeremy though, it wasn't working out anyways). At that point he asked a very important question: Could I ever have children? He has always wanted children very badly, and I have never wanted children, and have very strong reasons why I specifically do not want them. And so he said it couldn't work out. But we ended up remaining best friends with benefits. We stopped several times, sometimes because we just thought we should stop, and sometimes because he dated other people, but we always came back to each other. I was so emotionally attached to him. I neglected everything else in my life for him. I knew that the relationship wasn't healthy. He did not respect me, we fought all the time, he took me for granted, he was extremely selfish, ... and I still gave up everything. We stayed together until March of this year, and then we had a major fallout. We had had a couple of fallouts before, but this one ended up permanent, I guess. I won't go into details, but basically he slept with someone else (not for the first time), and I couldn't take it any more. I tried to stay his friend, but it was too much. I stopped talking to him over the summer. Now that I'm out of the situation, I've realized that it wasn't real love. Someone who loves someone doesn't treat them like he treated me; he only "loved" the position I filled in his life. And while I certainly felt something just as strong as love, I don't think that's what it was.

But I've been a complete wreck since then. I have clinical depression, and have been on many combinations of antidepressants ever since I tried to commit suicide in early high school. Losing Jeremy has thrown me right back to where I was my freshman year of college, when I was severely depressed and almost tried suicide again. (He was the only person who understood me. He was the only person who stayed in my life and cared for me and tried to help me, and I think that's partly why I became so attached.) I had gotten on a really good combination, except it hasn't really been working since the fallout.

In my loneliness and depression (and love of sex ... I think I'm going to go crazy without it) I had sex with my friend who was helping me get through it. The first time it was an accident. And then we just kept doing it. When I got back to school this semester I started it back up with him again. And also with another friend. So I've been having meaningless sex with these two friends, who really aren't friends ... I don't really give a damn about either of them. And they don't give a damn about me. At first I thought maybe the first one did, but I've been disillusioned. They've just been using me. And I guess I've just been using them too.

With Jeremy, until the last month or so that I was with him, I had been on birth control that my friend got me from the public school she's going to (you can't get it at Baylor). But then she didn't want to go to the doctor anymore, so she said to just go to Planned Parenthood. Except I never went. For a while I used condoms or contraceptive foam. Then I just used the timing method. Then I just got too depressed to care at all.

This summer I skipped a period, so when I skipped another period after school started, I didn't worry too much. (I hadn't had sex all summer and I had been having periods, so there was no way I could have been pregnant when I skipped the first one.) And then I got to wondering a little bit. Then I skipped a third period. I was in denial, and I never bought a pregnancy test. I just knew there was no way I could be pregnant - I hadn't had any morning sickness, hadn't been more tired than usual, hadn't had food cravings ... nothing. But I got to thinking. My breasts were a little bigger - I had thought that was because I was just gaining weight in general, but maybe not. I was rather emotional - maybe that wasn't just from depression. I had been just asking to get pregnant by what I was doing, having sex all the time with no protection. And so when it got to the point where I thought I should be having another period and wasn't, I got up the courage to buy a test. And that little line turned blue immediately. The box came with two tests, and so I got my friend, who's a virgin, to take the other one so I could see what it looked like (because the test wasn't entirely clear). When it looked different, we debated whether or not I was really pregnant. I told her I would go get a blood test somewhere to be sure. When she asked what I would do if I was, I told her there was no way I could have a baby, and she said, "No!" and hugged me. So I lied to her a couple days later and said I'd made an appointment. And then a few days after that I lied again and said I wasn't really pregnant.

When I got over the denial and decided that the test was right and that I was really pregnant, I knew immediately what I had to do. I cannot have a baby. For several reasons. I have never wanted children; I don't interact well with children; I've never even babysat. The depression is the main thing though. When I was going through the worst of it, I swore that I would never bring a living thing into this world. I swore never to give anything the risk of having to suffer the agony I suffered. Depression has a fairly strong genetic component, and I could not live with myself if I had a child who ended up with depression, for causing that suffering, and to someone that I would love very much, even if I never really wanted children. And I could not be a good mother if I were depressed, which is extremely likely. That isn't good for a child, to have a depressed mother that can't take care of them. Especially if she were a single mother, the only parent and caregiver, like I would be. And myself - I would be more likely to go through worse depression simply because of having a child. The stress would kill me. Perhaps literally. To be a mother, you have to be entirely selfless and give yourself and all of your efforts to that child, and I simply don't have that capacity. I can't give and give and give. And financially I would not be able to provide for a child at this point in my life. I haven't finished college. I don't even know what kind of job I can get once I do finish (I'm majoring in psychology and French). I'm completely in debt from loans. There would be no father around. I don't even know who the father is. And I wouldn't be able to take care of my child because I would be working all of the time. I hate to see it when my friends have single mothers, or even married mothers that work - every single one of them wishes they could have had a stay-at-home-mom. I don't know if I could afford the daycare anyways. Then there's the fact that there would be no father around. It's much healthier for a child to have their father around (mentally speaking). There wouldn't be the income, there wouldn't be anyone to take care of them if I became depressed, there wouldn't be anyone to take care of me either. Also my family, and friends, would disown me. They all think I'm still a virgin. They've already said that I would be cut off financially, and that they wouldn't help take care of a baby. I would have dishonor and lack of support, both financial and emotional. And then of course I have my selfish reasons. I want a career. I want to become a professor someday (I think). I could not have a job, go to school, and have a baby. I would never have the money to be able to build a house like I want to. I would never have the money or time to be able to travel in Europe. And I forgot to mention the brain damage and/or birth defects ... I have been drinking a lot, and well before I even suspected I was pregnant. Plus the overdose on birth control (I'll tell about that in a minute). I simply could not bear to bring such a miserable creature into the world. All-in-all, having a baby might be possible even with the disgrace and giving up my dreams and being in a financially tight spot and being a single mother and not having family support and not wanting children to begin with. But really the depression is the main thing. I don't want to pass that on. And I don't want to be a bad mother because of it. And I am very afraid of the personal agony I might suffer again. And the birth defects are the other important thing. Even with adoption, there is still that along with the depression any child of mine would very likely have. And also the disgrace I would have. All of these combined make for one very hopeless situation.

I've always been pro-choice, even when I was a strong Christian. And so when I came to terms with the fact that I was pregnant, I knew I had to terminate the pregnancy, due to all of the reasons I just mentioned. I had 1 and 1/2 months of birth control left over, and I took it all at once, because I don't have the money for an abortion. Except it didn't work. Nothing happened, nothing at all. I had started researching abortion on the internet immediately anyways, and I knew that the later into the pregnancy you were, the more it cost. And so as soon as Monday rolled around, I began calling places that didn't have their prices listed on the internet. That same afternoon I made an appointment for that Saturday at a clinic in Dallas. I couldn't do it on a weekday because if I miss any more classes, I fail (we have an attendance policy). I figured that if the birth control worked and I had a miscarriage that I could just cancel the appointment. If not, I decided to charge it to my credit card and just pay it off over time. I'll tutor people or something to earn money. I'm taking 19 hours both this semester and next, so I don't have any time at all for a real job.

The week or so before the abortion, I think I was in denial. It didn't seem real. It didn't seem like I had a baby growing in me. And I didn't feel very guilty, if I even did at all. I suppose the lack of guilt felt appropriate, considering the opinions I've always had. But in it's own way it did seem real. I finally decided talk to my friend (the one who drove me). It was partly because I was afraid to have the procedure without drugs, and partly because I just needed somebody ... I am so terribly alone. I most certainly can't tell either of the potential fathers. For one thing I don't even know which one it was. Even if I did, I couldn't tell. It's mostly to spare their feelings. And partly out of guilt. I had just lied and said I was on birth control. And and I was also afraid that they would try to stop me from having an abortion. I was pretty sure that they were both pro-choice, but a lot of people believe one thing but would do something different if they themselves were in the situation. (Except I found out later that one of them believes that abortion should be legal, but that it is basically wrong.)

I got to the clinic on Saturday with my friend. They did a urine test, then blood tests, then the ultrasound. I asked if I could see it, because I thought I would be able to deal with it better if I had seen. I don't think I could handle it always wondering, being in the dark. For that same reason, I asked them only to give me half of the sedation they usually give, so that I would be able to remember what happened. I don't want a giant black spot in my memory. I need the memory in order to deal. I was worried that they might not let me see the ultrasound. But they did. At that moment it became real. I struggled not to become teary-eyed. I realized "there really is a baby in there". They said I was at 13 weeks (11 weeks really, I guess - I'm going to ask how they count at the follow-up appointment). I was surprised it was so long. That means I got pregnant about a week after I started having sex again. That also meant that the abortion would cost $80 more - $375. I signed the credit card receipt in numbness. (At least I wasn't Rh negative, another $100.)

They sent me back out into the waiting room for a while, then called me back in when it was time for the procedure. I went to the restroom, again struggling not to let myself get emotional, and saying a hasty goodbye to the (life? baby? fetus?) in me. I'd never thought of it as real before. I'd never acknowledged it was there. And it was about to be gone forever. Dead. (I'm crying again now, as I write this.) Then I banished the emotions and went in. They gave me the sedation. I'm glad I only asked for half. I don't remember anyone else coming into the room, or leaving it. But I do remember someone walking me through the process, telling me they were putting in the dilators, telling me when the machine was going to start, telling me I was doing excellently on half the dose, telling me when they'd finished. It was actually pretty painful, even with the sedation. I lost my sense of time, so I don't know how long it lasted. But it hurt. At one point I asked for more sedation. I don't know if they ever gave it to me, because it seemed like they said they were finished just a moment after that. They stood me up and put my clothes on, and I felt blood rushing down my legs as they put on my underwear with a pad on them. They must have wiped it off. During the procedure I never thought about the baby at all. I don't know what I was thinking of. But I'm glad I didn't. Afterwards, they wheeled me into a recovery room where I sat/laid there waiting for the sedation to wear off. Then they got my friend to bring around the car and they wheeled me to it. Then we left.

We actually went out to eat that afternoon, after driving around for about an hour looking for a particular restaurant. We talked about nothing in particular, and I felt like I should feel worse about what had just happened. When we got back to his apartment, I laid down to rest and he got on his computer. I thought back to the sonogram. And I started crying. I tried to cry silently (at the same time hoping that he would notice anyways and come comfort me). But then he heard me and he did come over and held me while I cried. I couldn't even identify what I was feeling. I just saw that picture in my head and cried.

My friend went to work later, and I took the time alone to write in my journal some and just think, and cry. I had made myself calm down earlier because I didn't want to make him feel bad. But once I was alone I just let myself cry as much as I needed to. I cried about "my Baby". I cried "I killed my baby". I apologized to it/him/her. (I wish I knew if it was a boy or a girl.) I prayed to God - I prayed that it be in heaven and warm and happy and comforted. I prayed for the baby to forgive me. I didn't pray for God to forgive me. He knows my heart. He knows why I did what I did. He sees all. He will judge me or forgive me as he sees fit. I am so sad about this, but I know that it was the only choice. And I think God knows that too. This baby is so, so, so much better off in heaven than in this world. (I used to not think that God gave souls to babies that soon, but now I think maybe he does. I don't know.)

The following day I only got choked up a few times, but the couple days after that I cried more. And these last couple days I haven't cried at all, until tonight when I've been on here reading the board and writing this post. Even now though I'm not crying as much. I've just been generally depressed about it. I feel guilty for not feeling worse. I wish I had more physical pain, as payment, or punishment, or something. The odd thing is that beforehand I didn't really expect that I would cry at all. I don't know how I thought I would react. I'm not sure I gave much thought to it at all. Obviously I knew I would need to deal with it in some fashion because I knew I wanted to see the sonogram picture and only half the sedation. I ended up staying the night at my friend's place that night, and when I got back Sunday I bought some candles to burn for my baby, in memory, or in pentance, or in honor ... I'm not sure. For the couple days of school this week (only two due to the Thanksgiving holiday), I thought of the candle every time I thought about it. And I cried in front of the candle, and I laid on my bed staring at the candle. The flame, rather.

I don't even recognize why I'm feeling sad/depressed. I only feel it. This is so unusual for me; I am usually very in-touch with all of that.

I hate myself for being so irresponsible. I hate myself for creating something that the only choice was to get rid of. I want to go back in time and never get pregnant. In the future I am going to be almost paranoid about birth control. I'll never be able to think about sex the same way again. I'm not going to have sex anymore until I'm in love, though, anyways. But how can someone love me after what I've done? Although I suppose if they're like I was then it will be alright. But they'll never see it they way I do now, they'll never realize. (Realize what? I'm not sure yet.) I'm still pro-choice, and if I could go back to when I found out I was pregnant, I would still do the same thing. There was no choice. But it is just so sad. It is so terrible. I am never going to make the same mistake again.

I had a baby ... I had a baby. I was a mother. (What a horrible mother I turned out to be.) I love my baby now. I wish I could have loved it when it was still here. I wish I'd realized beforehand. (But then maybe I wouldn't have been able to go through with it.) My baby is gone. I killed it. I still feel so guilty even though I know heaven is so much better than the life it would have had here. I had a baby.

I don't know where I'll be in another week or month or year. I'll probably be just fine. But I know I'm changed. I feel so much more adult and mature. (But not in a good way.) So different and separated from everyone else. I will never think about abortion in the same way, or sex in the same way. I will never again be irresponsible in this way.

I feel so alone. People argue with me over just my not ever wanting children - they could never accept this. And I don't want to burden the friend who knows. I don't want him to feel bad for me. I don't want him to regret supporting me. I have no one. And so you find me here.

I'm sorry this is so long. I don't feel like I can take out anything, though; it is all important to why I did what I did. But just writing it has helped me.

Even if I will be fine eventually, I hope that everyone here will help me through this.

- teiluj98