June 24, 2000
The following are excerpts from my journal:
January 24, 1990 4:40 am
I woke up at 2:30 this morning and had to go to the restroom. I remembered that I went at 10:30 pm the night before and I needed to wait six hours before I could do the test. So I stayed awake another two hours. In the dark I set the test up in my room because I didn't want to wake anyone up. I did the test according to the instructions and waited. Then the plus sign appeared within ten seconds. I used my clock light to read it. Oh, I could see it. My arms trembled. I looked back at it six times because I couldn't believe it was real. I thought maybe it would change. But I knew I was pregnant. Maybe about six weeks and I know for sure it is David's. I can't tell him or anyone else. My family will disown me. My sister and I just had an argument about abortion. I can't let anyone find out. I can't believe I'm pregnant.
Monday, January 29, 1990
It's been about a week that I have lived knowing that I have this part of life growing inside of me. Today was the first day that I feel close to it. If it wasn't for my family, I would have it and then give it up for adoption. It would tear my father apart to know I am pregnant. He would blame my mother. She would then rip me apart for destroying her life. My sister is against abortion. I feel like I have no choice. I did call Family Planning Center and they said I need to have a test from a clinic or doctor's office. So I am going in tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 31, 1990
Yesterday I went to the Center. It took me forever to find it. I thought about turning around and going home but ignoring the situation won't make it go away. When I finally found it I really wanted to leave. They were so rude, but I guess they handle this thing everyday. The test takes 15 minutes, but they had mine in just five. The girl called me to the window and said out loud, "Yours is positive." So I stood there and then I asked, "Do I get to talk to someone?" (Which is what I wanted to do; talk to someone about NOT having this abortion.) The rude girl just said, "Call and make an appointment." She didn't even look at me. When I got home I called the Center. This time they left me on hold for 20 minutes, but I had to get this over with. They asked me 50 questions and tell me the abortion is $275. I made an appointment for 11 am next Thursday, February 8th, my dad's birthday. I can't eat, drink, smoke or chew gum after midnight before the surgery.
Each day I think more about it. I think about how I could make a couple happy by giving my baby up for adoption. I could make this couple so happy. I wish I could talk to someone.
Tuesday, February 6, 1990 5:30 pm
My heart beats like crazy. I have so many people I want to talk to. In class I look around to see if any other girls look like they have had an abortion or were planning on it, like me. But I can't tell.
I'm so afraid. What if something happens to me? The people who work there don't care about me. I am scared. I don't have anyone. I feel so alone.
Wednesday, February 7, 1990 6:50 pm
Last night I almost called Michele, but I didn't. Then Gina came home and it was just me and her. I almost said it, but I didn't. If something goes wrong she will feel responsible. I know she would be upset that I kept this from her. Then one more reason for my silence was when she said that the great thing about our family is that we are OK. None of us do drugs, none of us are criminals, none of us are alcoholics, most of us are in college, and thank God, none of us girls have gotten pregnant. At that moment I felt like throwing up.
So in 16 hours I'll be hysterical or dead. If I don't come out of this alive, my family will find out anyway. I'm sorry.
February 13, 1990 2:30 pm
I have the whole house to myself. It looks like it's going to rain.
Now I can talk about the surgery. The night before I stayed awake all night. I got up at 8:30 am and took a bath. When Gina left for school, I was alone and I cried and talked to myself.
I met Rick at 7-11 at 10:30 am. I soon as I saw him I started crying hard. He hugged me. We drove to the Center. There were two women outside who wanted us to take the pamphlets they were handing out regarding abortion. One said, "It's important you know this office is under investigation for malpractice because a woman had to have a complete hysterectomy due to an abortion."
Inside I had to fill out forms. There was this green piece of paper stating positive and negative effects of abortion. I noticed many other people in the room had the same green paper. Me and Rick just sat quietly on the couch until someone called my name at 11 am. I talked with one woman about what was going to happen and I don't remember what she said. She gave me pills and told me to take them after. She showed me to a dressing room and gave me a gown to change into. I put my clothes into a locker and sat in a room with seven other women dressed like me. They were all much older. Some were watching Young and the Restless on TV. Another was reading a magazine. Most were staring at nothing. An assistant weighed me, took my blood pressure and my temperature. Then I had to have a sonogram. I could see nothing and the assistant said nothing to me. Back to the room with the TV, there were more women now. I didn't know this many women had an abortion a day. And this was just one clinic. Many of the assistants were surprised that this was my first abortion.
A male assistant called me into a room to have blood taken. He ignored me when I told him I'm not good with needles. He told me to stick my arm out. I didn't look but I still felt faint. I said, "I feel sick." Not knowing what to do, he asked, "Are you OK? Put your head between your legs." So I did and he went to get someone else and she quickly walked me to a quiet recovery room. I lied down on a bed next to another woman. She peered over her shoulder and asked me if I just got out of surgery. I said, "No. I just had blood taken." She said, "Oh. It doesn't hurt. I was awake. There's just a lot of cramps." I said, "Oh, cramps, I can handle those." I looked at the clock. It was 12 noon.
An assistant came into get me. She said, "Rose, I'm going to prepare you for surgery now." In this little room with a table and stirrups, another assistant helped me up and put my feet into the hanging stirrups. It was very uncomfortable and humiliating as I just lie there. The girl stuck a needle into my hand and taped it there. Then she stood against the counter and peeled the nailpolish off her nails. At 12:10 a male physician with a mole on his cheek came in with another assistant. He leans directly over me and smiles with a grin and asks how I am doing. I lie, "Good." He lies, "Good." Then I feel pain in my hand. I turn to look but a force comes over me. I fight to keep my eyes open. I can't.
I wake up to a really nice girl talking to me. "Honey, wake up. Surgery is over." She talks to me about things. My hair, my age. She tells me I'm cute. That I look 15. Another assistant thinks I'm 17. There are five other women waking up. I hear the other assistants asking them how many children they have. They
help us walk over to some chairs to sit for a while. The clock says 12:20.
Suddenly I feel sick, like I'm going to throw up. Someone helps me to the bathroom and when I come out I ask to lie down. I have severe pains up and down my legs and lower abdomen. These are NOT cramps. Something is wrong. I feel disoriented. I moan and toss and turn on the bed. Other women are wheeled in from surgery now and the assistants are waking them up. Some ask what is wrong with me. One asked if I was dying. They seemed rushed with me. Someone took my pulse and said it was down to 42. "Watch me," she told the others quietly. A little later they checked again and it was up to 72. Then they wanted me to get up and out. Briskly, someone walked me to the dressing room. I tried to dress. When I took off my pad, blood poured out and made a large puddle on the floor, spattering all over my feet and legs. I couldn't control the blood. I got someone's attention and showed her. After all, they kept telling me the cramps were
because my blood was clotting, making it hard to bleed. They insisted I had a tilted uterus. What did they know? They weren't doctors.
I didn't care about the cramps. I was bleeding badly. All the other women who came out when I did were gone. I was taken back to the surgery room and set up on the table. A different girl stayed with me. She gave me tissue to wipe my tears and held my hand. I knew that same man would be back. He scared me and I didn't feel safe. First thing he did when he came in was jam two fingers into my vagina and push down on my abdomen. The whole time he kept a grin. He asked me why I was crying. I only told him I didn't want to be doing this. He replied, "I don't want to be doing this either." He said he had to suck the tissue and blood clots blocking to flow of blood from my uterus. I thought I didn't have a problem bleeding. When he inserted a tube he told me I was going to feel my stomach jolt. He pushed and pulled the tube inside of me. I felt cramps down my legs that I thought I could never walk again. I cried so hard. He was rude to me when he asked me where it hurt and I told him I couldn't tell. He said, "If you don't tell me where, I can't help you." He left the room disgusted.
I was taken back to the quiet recovery room to rest. It was 2:30 pm. I didn't feel any better and I just cried to myself. There was a young girl sitting across from me. She was crying and holding her stomach. I assumed she had a difficult time in surgery, like me. Just then an assistant came in and said, "OK, Julie, I'm going to prepare you for surgery." They got up and walked out.
It was 3 pm and someone said I was OK to leave and I did.
Tuesday, February 20, 1990
It seems like just yesterday I was kid living in Brooklyn, I was Catholic and believed there was a God. Our family was broke, I hated my brother and I always saw my grandparents. I got A's in school, loved to draw and I thought death meant to live forever.
Today I am afraid to live. I keep having nightmares or bad dreams. I dreamed a man attacked me in the stairway. Then I dreamed of Satan two nights in a row. A groups of guys took a box of puppies from
me. They were going to sacrifice them. The next dream they sacrificed a baby. I also dreamed I was on line at the store and a man grabbed me. I knew he wanted to hurt me. Then last night my dream was of a man who raped me. I woke up at midnight, afraid to go back to sleep. When I finally did, I dreamed I was raped again. What does this violence mean? There is no violence in my life. The news is only about oil spills,
drugs and AIDS. I don't even think of it. Maybe it is because of the abortion. I do feel guilt. I just didn't think it was on my mind.
Now that I am talking about it, I wish I could help other girls. I would want to persuade them to not get pregnant because they DO NOT want to get an abortion. I want to help them before they get into trouble.
I never thought it could happen to me, but it did. I know it's not over. It will never be over. I will live in silence for the rest of my life. It will hurt me, it will destroy me.
Today, June 2000
Six months later I was pregnant again. This time I told my boyfriend. Even after his pleading with me to let his baby live I still went through with the abortion. For the next 5 years I was drunk. I experimented with pot and sex. I had destroyed myself with thoughts of worthlessness. But by my third pregnancy in 1995, I knew things had to change. I brought God back into my life and knew I couldn't face him if I did this again. My baby's father and I married and we had another child in 1999. I had to be
monitored thoughout the entire pregnancy because of scarring in my uterus due to previous abortions. I was told there was a chance for miscarriage.
I have volunteered the past three years at a Crisis Pregnancy Center in hopes of reaching that same girl I was 10 years earlier. She's humiliated. She thinks she's alone. She's afraid to talk to her family. She thinks abortion is a solution. The truth is she is not alone. Her family will get over it. Abortion only complicates matters.
My life is consumed with thoughts of abortion. I am haunted. I still live in silence. I will forever dedicate my life to pro-life. It's not just about the baby. It's truly about a women's life (and men as well).
* Not her real name; other potentially identifying information also changed to protect privacy
