Abortion Story: New York City
Submitted to Abort73 by a 17-year-old woman on November 20, 2016.
To anyone confused about whether or not to have their baby, it is your choice, reflect on your life and who you are. It’s your choice, your baby, but this is my story. I’m sad, but I know I’ll be better. I was 16, a junior year in high school, which was the best year of my life. The would-be father was some guy I always liked. He was beautiful. It was all sex, and I loved that arrangement.
When I missed my period, I knew automatically. I knew, and I knew that it would never, ever happen. My baby was dead from that moment. I always told myself I would not be a teen mom like my mom and all my aunts. It was the worst thing that could have happened. I saw firsthand what it was like—how they all struggled—how my mom still struggles. I have plans; I have a vision of how I want my life, and that baby would have ruined it. I didn't tell anyone except for the father and my best friend. He was no help; he threatened to push me down the stairs. He was on-and-off with his girlfriend, too busy to worry about me.
I took my first pregnancy test on FaceTime with my best friend. We both were surprised and shocked. I saw how she looked at me. She knew, of course, that I wouldn't have the baby. We both knew. I didn't know where to go. I couldn't use my insurance because then my mom would find out, and that would have been embarrassing. I was pregnant during my 17th birthday. I spent three months with my baby, my beautiful baby. I loved it. I never knew how it felt. I always wanted to know but it was the wrong time with the wrong person. I went to Planned Parenthood and they helped me. They forever changed my life, and I couldn't be more grateful. But I'm fighting a battle with myself.
I woke up after the surgical abortion, and I felt the difference. It was gone; my baby was gone. It felt empty I didn't have my little pouch. I wanted to cry, but I was drugged. There was one recovery room, and there were girls crying every two seconds. The lady next to me was in her 30s and already had two teen kids. She walked out of that place like nothing. After she left, another girl my age was drowning in her tears and I asked her if she wanted to talk about it. She looked at me, and I knew how she felt. She knew what I was thinking. But it was too late.
I don't know where my baby is. I want to know what they did to it. I want to have my baby back, but it's too late. And now I'm sad. I think about it every day. My summer was ruined by the morning sickness, tiredness, and crying. I cried almost every day with tears I could only cry when no one was home because I always ended up screaming my head off, to the point where I would just stop breathing.
I'm not suicidal; I did the right thing, but I wish I didn't have to. I wish I had my baby later in life, even if it would of been two years later. I haven't talked about my baby with anyone since I tried talking to the would-be father, but he shut me out. He said he did this before. I don't know with who, but I want him to mourn our baby. He doesn't understand how it hurts. I talk to myself, trying to rationalize what I did, comforting myself. I feel like I am becoming a victim of this whole situation. I try to be a survivor, I really do. It couldn't have been for nothing. If anyone reading this is deciding whether or not to have an abortion, remember this. There is no me or anyone else. It is your life and your baby. It's like walking through hell; you'll get burned, but you'll keep walking. You'll fall and fall and you'll burn to ash, but then the wind picks up and you'll get blown away to where you need to go. I don't know if I regret the abortion, but I wish my pregnancy would have happened later in life. It was my baby, my beautiful baby, and now it's gone. I cry and I cry almost every day since August, but it's not all day, and I'm not sad all the time. I'm looking forward to a time when I don't think about my beautiful baby.
Location: New York City
Date: November 20, 2016
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