Recently, my friend Lily shared a bit of her life experience concerning her miscarriage and some of the surrounding circumstances on Facebook.
With her permission, I am reposting it here since I felt that first hand experiences with people who seek abortions and the perspectives of people who don't want to have children or have control over when they have them is a story that is not told often enough.
Listen, I’m about to tell you something that some of you might find outright offensive. It’s an incredibly personal story. It’s my story. Many of you know I have no fear when it comes to sharing things that matter to me. And if you don’t support me in this thing, I don’t think being my friend is right for you. But I feel like this is something I have to do, in order to stand up for the programs that impact my life on an almost daily basis.
I’ll start this by saying I didn’t have an abortion.
But I was going to.
I’m going to spare some details – when and where this all happened - to protect folks involved in all of this that aren’t as open as I am.
I was in a period of intense transition when this happened, and life was unstable. I felt uprooted, a bit lost, often homesick. I was transitioning between healthcare services
and I wasn’t seeing a physician yet. When I missed a period for the first time since I was 12, I already knew. I knew weeks before, actually – parts of my body were tender in ways they had never been, I was feeling this odd warmth in my whole body and my arthritis was acting up pretty badly. Two pregnancy tests confirmed my suspicions – I was pregnant.
I told the father right away and took another test with him just to be sure. He was kind, supportive, and fully agreed that this wasn’t the time for either of us to think about having a kid. There was no conflict between us about it – there was a tenderness there between us during this time that was new to both of us and that I am so grateful for. So I did what most young women in this situation do – I made an appointment with Planned Parenthood.
Like everything else in my life, I did a ton of research before going to the appointment. I knew about the abortion pill, and I knew a little bit about medical procedures that were available. I read up on both and decided that a medical procedure would probably be a better choice for me.
The waiting room was clean and comfortable. There were men and women there of a variety of ages and races, a few people with babies and small children. It looked just like a waiting room in any doctor’s office. There were instructional pamphlets about STIs, AIDS, birth control; an introductory breakdown of what happens during pregnancy; and information on breastfeeding a newborn. All in English and Spanish.
I saw a physician almost immediately. She was a woman in her late thirties, with two kids of her own. I remember her mousy brown hair pulled back with a clip and her warm smile and her excited way of speaking. She had a spark in her that was very comforting. She had me take a formal pregnancy test – pee in this cup, please – and sat with me when we went over the results.
“Well, you’re pregnant, but it looks a little bit weak,” she said. “How long since your last period?” We talked dates. Next, she asked what my plans were. I told her I wasn’t keeping it. “We have information about adoption services here if you’d like, and information about abortion procedures, but either way, I feel that it’s probably too early to tell, and we should have you come back in another two weeks to take a second test.” There was no pressure to have a procedure or to keep the pregnancy – everything was very open and she seemed happy to talk about options.
“I can’t have a baby right now,” I said. “If the test is positive next week can we schedule a procedure?” She stayed with me for a little bit to talk about my options with no rush. I clarified that I didn’t want to take the pill, and we made an appointment for two weeks later.
During the days leading up to the next Planned Parenthood visit, however, something changed. I felt this overwhelming dread like nothing I’d ever experienced – I thought I was going to die, or something in my life was going to die, or the world was going to lose all of its joy; I’m not exaggerating this intensity. It was utterly crippling. Immediately after this first emotional symptom, I bled. It was very heavy, dark, and thick, quite unlike my usual periods. I went through several pads in rapid succession. Over the next few days the flow tapered off (as did my dread), and I knew I’d miscarried.
I went to the appointment anyway to be sure. I took another pregnancy test and they confirmed my suspicions, and the doctor explained that my emotional symptoms were very common with miscarriages.
It was a huge relief. She said miscarriages were common with first pregnancies and that it didn’t mean I couldn’t have kids in the future. She did a pap and we decided to do an STI and AIDS kit while we were there.
“Is there anything else we can do for you, Jessica?”
“Well, since I’m here… can I get a copper IUD?”
They didn’t charge me for their services, but I opted to donate what I could for my two appointments, the STI screening, and for the IUD (which was also provided to me free of charge).
I did not feel conflicted about getting an abortion. It wasn’t the hardest decision I’ve ever made – it doesn’t even top the list of hard decisions. I wasn’t emotionally traumatized, or torn up, or depressed about the decision. At that time, it was the right thing for me. In fact, my body miscarrying was more emotionally strenuous than any moment I spent at Planned Parenthood, where I felt very firm support and absolutely no judgment. If I hadn’t miscarried and had to make the same choice again, I would have gone through with the procedure as planned.
I wasn’t ready to be pregnant or to have a child. Being child free is directly responsible for the life I have now. But if and when I decide I’m ready to have kids, I know I’ll start my family planning at Planned Parenthood.
For those interested in reading more firsthand accounts of women's experiences regarding abortions, there is a website that has collected hundreds of them, including many experiences before the Roe vs. Wade decision:
Thank you to pitbullgirl65 for letting me know of this website's existence. I am posting the link at the top since I figure a lot of Kossacks might not know about it.