My saga

I'm one of those women who had a late term abortion. So late, in fact, that it was done the last week it could have been done. There was no medical reason other than the fact that I probably would have gone insane had I been forced to become a mother. Yes, that is what would have happened because my husband had already refused to consider giving it up for adoption. In our home state, the biological father has the right to refuse to sign a child away for adoption.



Why didn't I have the abortion earlier? I was 18 years old, had no car, no friends, no money, and my husband wouldn't discuss the matter with me. He wanted to pretend that nothing was wrong, and I was young and stupid enough to exist on denial and wanting to keep it secret that I was pregnant. I was also extremely nauseated and vomiting throughout the entire pregnancy, and I was so so tired. I still don't know if I could have turned to anyone for help and not felt pressured to keep the baby, so I'm not so sure I'd do the keeping it secret part too much differently. We lived in a very rural area, and the nearest clinic that performed abortions was 2 + hours away. When my husband finally removed his head from his behind and discussed the matter with me, I was *that* far along. We ended up having to drive 4 + hours to a clinic that performed that late term an abortion.



We argued all the way. He wanted me to keep it. The procedure was expensive and painful. It took 3 days total. What they did was insert laminaria into my cervix to dilate it for the first two days. On the third day they broke my water and removed the baby. When I was in pain in the middle of the night of the second day and couldn't sleep, DH told me to shut up and that I deserved it. I don't remember many of my emotions at that time other than desperation. I desperately did not want my life to be ruined by the birth of that baby. The aftermath? Well, my husband and I probably should have just gotten a divorce then and there. He was angry with me for aborting our child (*eye roll*). I was angry with him for being unsupportive and for not helping me get it done sooner.



We hated each other for about five years. I had no one to talk to about it since he had basically forbidden me to ever tell a soul and had forbidden me to ever speak of it to him. I thought about it every single day of my life, but the emotion I experienced was anger instead of sadness. Finally, I started posting on an abortion support board. When I was finally able to talk about it to other women, I learned several things: I'm not a bad person for having such a late term abortion, and, in fact, am not a bad person for having had an abortion at all. I can't change the past or my actions in the past; in fact, all I can do is control my actions in the future. I didn't regret having an abortion or the loss of a potential child; instead, I regretted the way I handled the whole situation, not getting things in hand more quickly. The more I thought about the whole thing, the more I realized that life is like this painting by Georges Seurat. You can't tell so much by viewing the image in the link, but the painting is made up of all these little dots, not brush strokes. If you get real close to the painting, all you can see is these random dots that don't seem to matter so much; however, if you get far away, you have this really elaborate, beautiful picture. Well, I kinda figured that's how life is in general. We all have those little sections of dots where our life sucked or where we wish we could have done things differently, but the thing is if you changed those dots or took them away, you wouldn't have the same picture.



Bad, irresponsible, and gruesome as the whole situation was, I think I became a better person because of it, and I'm grateful that I wasn't forced by law to have a child that I didn't and don't want. I can even see the point of the "gruesome and cruel" camp of late term abortion protesters. The procedure is gruesome and, probably, cruel. I know because I did it. I'm the one who has to live with it every day. You know what? For the most part, I don't feel all that bad. I wouldn't handle it the same way if the situation arose again, but as my granny always used to say about life, I did the best I could at the time, and I went on to the next thing. I often think of a young woman like me finding herself in the exact same situation, with the same circumstances, having a child she desperately didn't want. I think of the way *my* life would have turned out had I not been so lucky to have been in that situation 12 years ago and not today.



As for grief, I do grieve. I grieve for the innocence I lost in that situation. I grieve for that girl who thought nothing bad could ever happen to her, and who thought people didn't really do horrible desperate things. I look at the world through jaded eyes. I know what people are and what they can do, how desperate they can be. Nothing surprises me. Well, I'll take that back. One thing does surprise me. My fear of being in that situation again surprises me. I'm afraid of facing restrictions and not being able to obtain another abortion. I'm afraid of being as sick as I was when I was nineteen and pregnant and letting the illness immobilze me like I did back then. Every year gets a little bit better though. I've quit berating myself for not handling the matter in a more expedient fashion. I've learned about the past and how it's set in stone. I try to prevent the same thing from happening again, using the best method I can find - an IUD - and I accept that that's really all I can do.



For the most part, I like the way things turned out. Such a horrific experience really makes you grow up, or at least it did me. I became a survivor of the fates, and I think I'm better for it. Would I take back the whole horrible situation? Yes, definitely. Would I react differently if I could go back in time to the situation? No, but I would have handled it faster. It would have been cheaper and less emotionally traumatic.



Well, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it. I'm also sorry if this all offends any of you, but it is my life, and I'm not ashamed. I just wanted to offer up my two cents.



Oh, and to answer Rose's question from another thread:

Quote:

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It seems that while you have come to an understanding of why things happened the way they did...I still sense a sort of...what's the right word...unrest maybe? in your life. It seems like you have had to just give up on a lot of your angry and hurt feelings toward your husband so that your life could move on.

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Yeah...I did just have to let the feelings go. In Chapter 14.A of my saga (and, yes, I'm being sarcastic), I had actually intended to leave him over that and scads of other stuff. His foot dragging in the pregnancy situation was not the only time he has reacted to situations that need taking care of immediately. The foot dragging has become a theme in our marriage. It caused me a lot of resentment toward him, and I've had to learn to let go of that if I want to live here and not go insane. I think any unrest I feel has to do with fear of being in the same situation again. I'm afraid of being that animal caught in a snare again and self destructing trying to escape.



Anyway, thanks for the welcome Rose.

- runningchick