Abortion

For weeks I've been hesitant on sharing my views and opinions about this topic. I was fearful of being judged, unfriended, or losing out on opportunities because of my personal thoughts. This subject is touchy, and for the most part one is either for or against it. There's usually no middle ground. However, over the years I've learned that 1 in 5 women will have an abortion during her lifetime. Although this is a hush-hush topic, abortion is more common than you think.

Growing up, I heard nothing but negative stories about women having abortions. They were shunned, and talked about. Some were even labeled as murderers. I had always heard Christians speak against abortion, saying it was one of the most unforgivable sins. I'd never had a family member say to me that she had an abortion. The topic never really came up in my household or in my immediate family. I never formed an opinion about abortion until the first time I sat in the clinic.

One of my closest friends asked me to be her ride because she couldn't drive after the procedure. At this time, I still was uncertain of what the actual procedure entailed. I knew the doctors were going to remove the baby, but I never knew how. As we waited for her to be called, I saw a few girls waiting as well. Some with a tiny baby bump, some not showing at all. No one was crying, but the mood and atmosphere sure was depression. There's an eerie stillness and silence among the women and men coming to the clinic for the same exact reason...

When her name came up, she was called by her first initial and last name, I didn't know what to expect. Could she walk afterwards? Would she be medicated? Bleeding heavily? Would she be sad or depressed? The procedure seemed to have only taken about an hour. She came in the waiting area walking slowly but steadily, and we left. She looked a little tired, but we ate breakfast at IHOP and I took her home. She never brought it up again afterwards, and seemed to be just fine. I never asked her what happened back in the room where it all took place.

Over the course of the next few years, I'd taken a few of my friends to that same clinic, and drove them back home. Each time, there was never any expression of regret or depression. It was more of a "I gotta do what I gotta do" type of demeanor. Every woman has her own personal reasons why she chooses to get an abortion. Some women are forced into it by their parents. The situations differ in every case.

In my case, I had just moved to Los Angeles. I found myself becoming oddly ill. At first I got hives, but I thought maybe I was flea bitten by my aunts dog JJ who I stayed with before moving, or maybe someone on the plane had a contagious infection. After doing some google searches I realized they were hives, brought on by either stress or an allergic reaction. They cleared up after a few days, and life went on. A few weeks later, I noticed my breasts were getting larger. In denial, I chalked it up to the climate change. Maybe the hot sun was the culprit, or the palm trees and ocean breeze. Maybe not...

It wasn't until I was at work (not to mention my boss was pregnant at the time = law of attraction), and started vomiting in the bathroom, that I came to the realization that I might be pregnant. I was living on a couch at my friends house during that time. I had no car, I had a low wage part time job, and no money. I secretly took a pregnancy test in the bathroom, and sure enough, it was positive. I rolled it several times in toilet paper so my friend wouldn't see it, and started weighing my options. I decided to make it official by going to Planned Parenthood and taking another test.

That test was positive also. The nurse congratulated me and asked me if I was going to keep the child. I spit out a yes before even considering the pros and cons. She gave me lots of information and told me I was eligible for insurance because of my low income status. That week I received my benefits, made a doctors appointment, and prepared for my first prenatal visit. I had even started taking prenatal vitamins in preparation for pregnancy. I was nervous, but ready to begin the process.

At the doctors appointment, I felt like I wasn't present. It was an out of body experience that I'd never had before. After a while, the nurses' words were drowned out by nausea not brought on by the pregnancy. She weighed me, gave me some nutritional information, and sent me down to schedule my next appointment. As I walked down to the scheduling area, everything in my body felt as if it was fighting against it's adjacent body part. My vision became blurry, my heart began to race, and millions of thoughts were cramming into my brain.

I sat in the waiting area for about 30 seconds, and as if on auto pilot, my body got up and power walked straight for the door. I tossed all of the paper work in a nearby trash can. All I can remember thinking and saying out loud was, "I can't do this, I can't do this." How could I raise a child 3,000 miles away from home on my own? I just got to California, I can't make it big sporting a basketball shaped belly under my tank top at audtions. The father and I barely know each other. Is this the type of life I want to bring a new person into? Absolutely not.

By this time, I had moved from a couch in South Central to a couch in West Hollywood. My breasts continued to grow as I entered the second trimester, so did my appetite. Even though I wasn't keeping the child, I didn't starve myself or drink alcohol. The guy I conceived with agreed to pay for the services, so it was only a matter of time before it would all be over.

A few more weeks went by, and as my appetite increased, my income did not. I began spending the money the guy sent me on groceries. I eventually spent half the money he sent on food. I tried going to Planned Parenthood anyway and trying to get financial assistance for the other half of the cost, but something about the funding disqualified financial assistance with abortions. I'd have to wait even longer to come up with money or I'd run the risk of being too far along to have an abortion.

This time, I actually told my roommates about the pregnancy. I told them about the money I'd spent, and about how I was getting farther and farther along. One of my roommates suggested that I look up free abortions. I laughed it off. I knew how expensive abortions were, who would offer FREE services? Yet, after doing some searching on the web, I found a place in Beverly Hills that indeed offered FREE abortion services.

I scheduled my first appointment and caught the bus to the clinic. Before I crossed the street to enter the facility, I sat on the bench of a fountain. I asked myself, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" "You're all alone and by yourself, are you sure you're ready?" I remembered praying to God so hard on that couch many nights asking Him to give me a sign and let me know what to do. I recall crying, balling, shedding fistfuls of tears imploring God to show me the way. I stood up and walked across that street into the clinic.

To be a clinic that offered FREE abortion services, you'd think it would be a disgusting hole in the wall, off in the cut type of place. Not even close. The facility was bright and spotless. The staff was nice and helpful. The paper work was extensive and the wait was long. I'd be returning in just a few days for the actual procedure.

The night before the procedure I stayed up for hours talking to God. I even asked him to allow a car accident to happen. Anything to stop this process if it wasn't meant to be. Nothing happened. My roomamte got me to the appointment on time, and there I was. Still not truly knowing what to expect, I thought I would go in and come right out immediately after "it" was removed. The first step was the insertion of dilators to open my cervix. The insertion was uncomfortable, but not painful. The most painful part was waiting hours and hours for my cervix to be opened by these "tooth picks."

I passed the time by watching television, reading magazines, and reading people. There were several women there, but one woman I'll never forget. She looked to be in her late teens, maybe early twenties. She was screaming and crying because she said the dilators were hurting her. She seemed frightened and anxious, like maybe she was one of the college girls forced to get an abortion by her prestigious parents. She was white. I'd always envisioned abortion clinics filled with young poor black women. Absolutely not. During most of my visits to the clinics, the majority of patients are young white seemingly middle class women. I was glad when it was her turn to go back, I'd heard enough of her screaming.

As I waited there hour after hour, I felt that same out of body experience from the prenatal visit. Except this time, my body didn't move, only my mind. When it was my turn, I don't even remember walking back to the room. I remember changing into the hospital gown, and attempting to pee. The nurse stopped me, informing me that the procedure must be done with a full bladder. Next, I laid on the cold table and put my skinny feet covered in colorful socks into the hard metal stirrups. They had to perform an ultrasound first, to see exactly where they'd need to go.

They never asked me if I wanted to see the ultrasound or not. They just did it with the screen facing towards me. I saw my baby's heart beat for the first and last time. I cried, apologized to the unborn child and asked for its forgiveness. Before I knew it, the doctors started leaving the room. The doctor carrying "it" ran into a stool, and spilled some of bloody fetus onto the floor. That image will never leave my mind. He quickly cleaned up the blood and other remains, and exited. I got dressed, called my roommates to pick me up and went to the pharmacy to get my meds.

I was lucky enough to have a caring non-judgmental roommate who helped me organize my medicine by dosage and date. He made sure I was eating and drinking. He let me rest, and checked on me to make sure my bleeding was normal. I had no family support in California until that day. He took care of me and nurtured me during one of the scariest, loneliest and most confusing times of my life. Thank you Mr. Gomez.

Afterwards, I finished my meds, took care of my body and began to live a normal life again. I didn't experience nightmares, regret or depression. I knew I had made the right decision. It was a hard and sad choice, but it was the best choice for me. Everyone has a different experience with each abortion.

My second abortion was not easier than the first one, but still the best decision for me. I'm on birth control now, and Lord knows I don't want to go through another abortion. Any woman reading this having had one or multiple abortions, YOU ARE NOT ALONE! There are thousands of abortions performed every day right on Shaker Boulevard. All I can say is, make the best choice for YOU. Don't be pressured or led one way or the other based on the opinions of other people. The only person that has to look herself in the mirror every day is you.

Take your time when deciding, weigh the pros and cons and be honest with yourself. Are you ready to be responsible for another persons life for the rest of yours? Are you willing to deal with guilt, shame and other emotions that you may feel after having an abortion? Take advantage of the counsel both before and after abortion. Take advantage of the resources available to you, and the support around you. Make the best choice for YOU.

If you want to judge or criticize me and other women who have had abortions, here are a few celebrities who have also had abortions. Like I said, it's more common than you think...

1. Chelsea Handler
2. Sharon Osbourne
3. Vanessa Williams
4. Margaret Cho
5. Toni Braxton
6. Gloria Steinem
7. Sherri Sheperd
8. Joan Collins
9. Penny Marshall
10. Maureen McCormick
11. Kathy Najimy
12. Sinead O' Connor
13. Linda Ellerbee
14. Whoopi Goldberg
15. Kathleen Hannah
16. Billie Jean King
17. Nikki Minaj
18. Jemima Kirke
19. Tami Roman
20. Suzanne Somers
21. Alice Walker

Comments

Popular Posts