An introduction. I guess. Pt. 1.

I feel like my Tumblr is anonymous enough. And I need some kind of outlet. Am I too old for this site? Maybe not enough of a writer nowadays to have a Wordpress or whatever it is actual adults use in this day and age, I’ve become an internet dropout of sorts so I have no idea.

I can’t afford therapy, so, here goes nothing. Starting with the beginning of the problem that’s most important right now…

I’m having a hard time coping with life at the moment. Cue tiniest violin. Number one problem is just coming to terms and dealing with an abortion. It is not taboo of a topic as it has been in the past, thanks to major strides in the movement, but it’s something I can’t readily and easily talk about with my friends, partner, mother, etc. 

It came to a complete surprise to me that I could actually, indeed, become pregnant. After 2 miscarriages (I was unaware I was with child both times), and a doctor telling me I’m infertile, I thought I was broken. My partner was away for a length of time for work, and I found out the weekend before his return. I went back home, my immediate family knew, and was supportive. Of course, my mother was anxiously awaiting her first grandchild and stocked me with prenatal vitamins. The trip back was hell, via Megabus, nauseous as all hell and worried to death about having to tell him the big news. The worst part about it was quitting smoking, and all vices, because I had no idea what the plan was. All of which would have made the anxiety lessen a bit. 

He ends up coming back a day earlier than expected, the day before my scheduled appointment at the women’s clinic for a check-up and advice. I was afraid of his reaction, naturally. His line of work has no room for babies, or being tied down in any way. I tell him laying in bed, and I had been alluding to something was up via text the whole weekend. He had said he thought it was cancer, and got up and made himself a drink. Which I thought was somewhat amusing, and at the time I kind of wished it was cancer.

He ended up going to the clinic with me the next day which, in retrospect, I am grateful for. The nurse and I went over every option, and by the end of it I was shaking uncontrollably and she got up and brought me a cup of water. It was the part where she had to explain the process of late-term abortion, and everything it entailed. The whole thing takes place over 3 days, and the description horrified me. I thought, how would someone aside from medical reasons, willingly go through with that? At that point in the pregnancy, why not go through and deliver your child and give it up for adoption? The woman is pretty much delivering a baby. I was aware of this being an option before, but I couldn’t help bursting into tears when she went over that, the last pamphlet.

It took 2 weeks after that to come to my decision. I was experiencing the whole gamut of first trimester pregnacy. Parts of the day, mostly night, was the same feeling as getting off the spinning cups ride at the fair. I ached more than usual, it took a lot just to stand for periods of time, and I couldn’t climb the stair out of the train station without being winded and dizzy. Yet, I felt calm and actually happy. Both are not apart of my vocabulary. 

I knew the decision had to come at some point. And it was the hardest decision I have ever made in my entire life. After a nice weekend with the partner, and him making a few tongue in cheek jokes about the situation, ex: “You’ll be that big soon”, “That N/A beer probably made my child retarded, now it’s got a taste for beer”, and us having a emotionally heavy conversation on the patio about his mother helping out if needed, moving to his home state, and so on. I burst into tears and with a minute or two I knew what I ‘had’ to do. I wasn’t going to risk his career, his extracurriculars when he’s out doing that job. I will go ahead and say it, I wanted that child. With everything I had. I wanted it. And as soon as I said my choice out loud, I knew. And I cried even more. As per my request, he went out and bought me cigarettes. I snuck sips of his beer, and in between drags, I felt immense regret. 

Nearly everyone at work knew. I work with mostly girls, a few knew including my bosses, and it was in due time that gossip started to spread. So, in the beginning, when I saw this possibly happen, I told people. I was upfront, and even made some self-deprecating jokes. And I was upfront with my decision and taking that one single day off. My mother was not happy with it. And she still barely speaks to me. I’m slightly bothered, but I’ve gone 2 years without speaking to her before, so… 

Good stopping point. Wine is telling me to go to bed, so, to be continued.