I had an abortion when I was 17. I was “careful,” but not careful enough. It’s so easy for things to go wrong at the most inconvenient time. I hate that when I look back at pictures from the day I graduated high school, all I can think about is how I was pregnant at the time and had no idea. I hate that my boyfriend’s parents had to pay for it or even know about it. I hate that my mom felt bad for only having $30 to contribute. I hate that I contracted pelvic inflammatory disease from the abortion and didn’t realize it until nearly a year later. I hate that I didn’t take better care of myself emotionally and physically back then. But I do not hate that I had an abortion. Having an abortion was one of the best decisions I have ever made. If I were to get pregnant today I would most likely make that same exact decision.
I went to a walk-in clinic because I didn’t have health insurance and I was pissing blood, nauseous, and in so much pain. They told me I had a UTI and was also pregnant, but they couldn’t give me antibiotics. That was the most scared I’ve ever been in my whole life. I went to Planned Parenthood to figure out what to do, and just like when I was there nine weeks previously for birth control and Plan B (which obviously I had been too late for), they were so kind and understanding. I knew nothing about what was happening with my body or where to go, and I was full of anger and hatred for being in this situation. They made me feel so much better and like I was normal and going to be okay. They gave me a referral for the place in town that did surgical abortions, since back then you couldn’t do medical abortion when you were nine weeks along. That seems like so much time. I was pregnant for nine whole weeks and had no idea. It kind of terrifies me that I could be that out of touch with my body. I had just started the birth control pills and so when I was missing my period I just assumed it was the birth control.
Ever since the second I found out I was pregnant, all I could think about was wanting to be free and for it to just be over. I was certain that emotionally I really only had one option. I didn’t just not want a child. I didn’t want to be pregnant. I really do want a child one day, but I want to adopt and I want to be ready. I want to be financially, emotionally, and physically ready. The thought of carrying a pregnancy to term made me want to rip my skin off. I’ve struggled with mental illness my entire life and I know myself well enough to know that I could not emotionally handle a pregnancy and I have zero desire to try. I’m glad I didn’t try to carry a pregnancy to term at the age of 17. I’m incredibly proud of myself that I ended up graduating college and finding my passion. I wouldn’t have been able to do this if I’d stayed pregnant.
The “surgical” procedure itself took about five minutes and was painless. Before the procedure I’d asked if it would hurt, and they had said it varied person by person. I was told if you’re used to very intense painful periods, then it will feel like nothing, but if you’ve always had light periods with few cramps then an abortion will feel like hell. I guess that’s the only time I’ve ever felt lucky to have incredibly painful periods. Despite the procedure being quick, we were still required to be at the clinic for several hours so that they could do counseling, an ultrasound, explain the procedure about fifty different times with explicit detail (and even a video), and so much more. It was emotionally draining. I’m fairly certain there is no other medical procedure where you have to be lectured for hours and hours before you’re allowed to proceed. It’s an obnoxious process, but it verifies that you’re certain about your decision, you’ve thought it through, and no one is pressuring you into it.
People in my life were supportive of my decision. There was only one protester, and he didn’t try to talk me out of it. No one made me feel bad about abortion. And yet, I felt like I couldn’t talk about it. I felt like I had been made different and othered, and I couldn’t explain why. I really wanted someone to talk to about it, but no one in my life was all that helpful. That’s why when I found out about the Tennessee Stories Project I was so excited. Finally, a place for complicated emotions. Finally, a place that didn’t paint abortion as black and white. Finally, a place where talking about abortion not only felt okay, but was encouraged. There’s a special kind of stigma in the South, and reading other Tennesseans’ feelings about their abortions feels so comforting and familiar.
It’s been about six years since my abortion. I am grateful that I was privileged enough to have had geographic, financial, and legal access to an abortion. I am grateful that having an abortion allowed me to have my life back and become the person I am today. I am grateful for my abortion.
