(no subject)
LIFE STORY:
“It began as a dream come true-Matt and I had the perfect relationship; we talked about everything for hours, home, sports the future; it didn’t matter about the subject. We were in love, and I felt like a princess. Some time ago, my fairy relationship ended, and I no longer felt like my knight in shining armour had swept me off my feet. I still loved Matt, but things changed, and I don’t know how our relationship will ever regain its innocence again. The night before we went to drive into the city, we pretended like nothing had ever happened, which was the same as the next day, we didn’t say a word about the pregnancy, whilst in the car Matt turned up the radio loud and sang along to his favourite tunes; I laughed at his jokes. We acted like this trip would be a time we could flip back through the photo albums and remember fondly.
We pulled up in front of the “Women’s Surgical Clinic”. My thoughts returned to my mistake and the deceitfully benign words on the sign: “Ambulatory Gynaecologic Surgery”.
My knuckles turned white from clenching my backpack straps as I waded through a crowd of protesters.
I wanted to burst into tears, get back in the car and face my mistake with courage. Instead, I tightened my jaw. I had to be strong, not only for me, but for Matt, too.
I sat in the waiting room, with Matt holding my hand, and he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t explain. The secretary called my name so I could pay them their $600. I watched as she counted my money, astounded that I as paying for someone to “fix” my mistake. I went back to the waiting room, leaning on Matt, searching for comfort, feeling only numbness. Finally, it was my turn to take a blood test and give them a urine sample. I couldn’t have prepared myself for what happened next.
I was taken into another room and given an ultrasound to find out how far along my baby was. I guessed it was no more than 12 weeks because I hadn’t been sexually active. The nurse was rude and told me to lie down and not to talk. As she started rolling the cold ball across my stomach, she chuckled.
“12 weeks, huh? Try 15 or 16.” She said it in such an accusing way. I couldn’t believe her rudeness. In the other room I over heard her conversation to another worse, that it was a boy. My baby was a growing little boy inside of me. As the nurse picked up the paper work, she turned over the picture, and I saw a baby boy, full of life and totally dependent on me to survive, I gasped for breath.
The nurse snatched the picture from my stare and sneered. “That’ll be another $300 since your over 12 weeks. Talk to the cashier”. I took a deep breath and went out to talk to Matt; He knew something was wrong by the look on my face. He went to get the money and when he came back something was up, he held his head low. He explained that the bank had a daily limit of money that we could withdraw. I went back to the cashier crying. She asked if I had changed my mind about going through with this. I wanted to say yes, but instead I explained I had exhausted my money sources and I didn’t know what to do. She looked at me with sincere concern and said she could help. Even though they were not supposed to accept credit cards, she deemed this as an emergency and offered to put it on my card. The lady said the bill would only show up as a doctor’s name and there would be no ties to the location. She cleared the card and gave me a new receipt for $900. I closed my eyes and walked back to tell Matt the only “good news”. That was the last I would see of him until, it was all over. The nurses sent me back to the TV room for”pre-counselling”. Here the staff explained the different procedures and assured me about the safety of the procedure. “There is only one death in one million surgeries”, they said, as if it was like getting your tonsils removed. We watched an instructional video about what to expect in surgery, and I met with the head counsellor. She asked me why I was here. She wanted to make sure this was my decision and not someone else’s. I was one of the first girls to see the doctor but because I was 15 weeks into the pregnancy I would be the last one to have surgery. The doctor was tall and was the first clinic worker to smile at me. He introduced himself to me and we had this whole conversation, as he placed something uncomfortable into me, to dilate my cervix. I don’t remember what they are called but they hurt. The clamps were cold, and I felt like a stuffed turkey. He poked 5-6 sticks in me and told me I would soon get cramps. The pain started immediately. I tried to get off the table, but the pain was so intense that I had to lie back down. He stayed until I could raise myself up. I was told I would only have to wait an hour for my surgery. If I could stand the pain that long, I would be fine. An hour passed. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but I was cold and in so much pain. I wanted to go to the bathroom, to take those horrible things out of me and I wanted to go get Matt, so that I didn’t have to be alone. I was scared and hurt.
They led two other girls and me to an elevator and escorted us all to a locker room, where we dressed in surgical gowns and caps and covered up ourselves with bathrobes. Over the course of 4 hours, the pain was excruciating. I felt so many feelings, I was confused and I wanted to cry, it felt like a prison. I couldn’t see Matt and I couldn’t feel any feeling in body, I felt numb with fear. They took us back into the room with the other girls, and told us to lie in the beds that had our names on them. Sometime later, I dozed in and out of sleep, and before I knew it a nurse was putting an IV needle in my arm. It was long so I had to keep my arm straight to keep the needle from digging in. It was 3:15 when they wheeled me into the other room. Waiting an hour would have been only a dream. We wheeled through the double doors, and as soon as she started to move me from my bed onto the operating table, I closed my eyes. Tears ran down my cheeks. I heard the doctors voice as he greeted me, but still I kept my eyes closed as much as possible. I opened them only enough to know that it was a huge room with all white walls and bright lights. I put my feet up in the stirrups and the doctor asked me how I was feeling.
I ignored his question, hating the sound of his voice and hating myself for going through with this. When I woke up, it felt like hours had passed but they told me it had only been 10 minutes and I realized then, that in less then 10 minutes, I had taken my baby’s life. I opened my eyes as little as possible and walked slowly back to where I had left Matt so many hours ago. He was the only one left in the waiting room. He looked up at me with concern and love and helped me walk out. I couldn’t let go of him. He asked me several times if I was okay. I f I said yes, I was lying. Nothing about me was okay. I had just made the worst decision of my life. I was the baby’s mother and was supposed to protect him, but I didn’t.
What could we have done differently? Maybe we should have confided in our parents. They would have been disappointed, but they still would have loved us. They would have loved their grandchild, but we didn’t give them that chance. We didn’t even give our baby the opportunity to love us. I will never hear him giggle and say “Mommy”. Matt will never laugh with him or teach him how to play basketball. We stole that from him. We stole his life and his opportunities-all because we weren’t ready to raise a baby and give up our lives. I can say without reserve that we made the wrong choice. Maybe one day matt and I will see him in Heaven. There, I will beg for his forgiveness, but until then, we will live with the regret that we never let him live.”
seriously guys,life story and realy bad.i hate abortions and i cant belive some people go through so much pain,i kno babys can be a burden in some peoples eyes but its cruel.
xxxxx
“It began as a dream come true-Matt and I had the perfect relationship; we talked about everything for hours, home, sports the future; it didn’t matter about the subject. We were in love, and I felt like a princess. Some time ago, my fairy relationship ended, and I no longer felt like my knight in shining armour had swept me off my feet. I still loved Matt, but things changed, and I don’t know how our relationship will ever regain its innocence again. The night before we went to drive into the city, we pretended like nothing had ever happened, which was the same as the next day, we didn’t say a word about the pregnancy, whilst in the car Matt turned up the radio loud and sang along to his favourite tunes; I laughed at his jokes. We acted like this trip would be a time we could flip back through the photo albums and remember fondly.
We pulled up in front of the “Women’s Surgical Clinic”. My thoughts returned to my mistake and the deceitfully benign words on the sign: “Ambulatory Gynaecologic Surgery”.
My knuckles turned white from clenching my backpack straps as I waded through a crowd of protesters.
I wanted to burst into tears, get back in the car and face my mistake with courage. Instead, I tightened my jaw. I had to be strong, not only for me, but for Matt, too.
I sat in the waiting room, with Matt holding my hand, and he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t explain. The secretary called my name so I could pay them their $600. I watched as she counted my money, astounded that I as paying for someone to “fix” my mistake. I went back to the waiting room, leaning on Matt, searching for comfort, feeling only numbness. Finally, it was my turn to take a blood test and give them a urine sample. I couldn’t have prepared myself for what happened next.
I was taken into another room and given an ultrasound to find out how far along my baby was. I guessed it was no more than 12 weeks because I hadn’t been sexually active. The nurse was rude and told me to lie down and not to talk. As she started rolling the cold ball across my stomach, she chuckled.
“12 weeks, huh? Try 15 or 16.” She said it in such an accusing way. I couldn’t believe her rudeness. In the other room I over heard her conversation to another worse, that it was a boy. My baby was a growing little boy inside of me. As the nurse picked up the paper work, she turned over the picture, and I saw a baby boy, full of life and totally dependent on me to survive, I gasped for breath.
The nurse snatched the picture from my stare and sneered. “That’ll be another $300 since your over 12 weeks. Talk to the cashier”. I took a deep breath and went out to talk to Matt; He knew something was wrong by the look on my face. He went to get the money and when he came back something was up, he held his head low. He explained that the bank had a daily limit of money that we could withdraw. I went back to the cashier crying. She asked if I had changed my mind about going through with this. I wanted to say yes, but instead I explained I had exhausted my money sources and I didn’t know what to do. She looked at me with sincere concern and said she could help. Even though they were not supposed to accept credit cards, she deemed this as an emergency and offered to put it on my card. The lady said the bill would only show up as a doctor’s name and there would be no ties to the location. She cleared the card and gave me a new receipt for $900. I closed my eyes and walked back to tell Matt the only “good news”. That was the last I would see of him until, it was all over. The nurses sent me back to the TV room for”pre-counselling”. Here the staff explained the different procedures and assured me about the safety of the procedure. “There is only one death in one million surgeries”, they said, as if it was like getting your tonsils removed. We watched an instructional video about what to expect in surgery, and I met with the head counsellor. She asked me why I was here. She wanted to make sure this was my decision and not someone else’s. I was one of the first girls to see the doctor but because I was 15 weeks into the pregnancy I would be the last one to have surgery. The doctor was tall and was the first clinic worker to smile at me. He introduced himself to me and we had this whole conversation, as he placed something uncomfortable into me, to dilate my cervix. I don’t remember what they are called but they hurt. The clamps were cold, and I felt like a stuffed turkey. He poked 5-6 sticks in me and told me I would soon get cramps. The pain started immediately. I tried to get off the table, but the pain was so intense that I had to lie back down. He stayed until I could raise myself up. I was told I would only have to wait an hour for my surgery. If I could stand the pain that long, I would be fine. An hour passed. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but I was cold and in so much pain. I wanted to go to the bathroom, to take those horrible things out of me and I wanted to go get Matt, so that I didn’t have to be alone. I was scared and hurt.
They led two other girls and me to an elevator and escorted us all to a locker room, where we dressed in surgical gowns and caps and covered up ourselves with bathrobes. Over the course of 4 hours, the pain was excruciating. I felt so many feelings, I was confused and I wanted to cry, it felt like a prison. I couldn’t see Matt and I couldn’t feel any feeling in body, I felt numb with fear. They took us back into the room with the other girls, and told us to lie in the beds that had our names on them. Sometime later, I dozed in and out of sleep, and before I knew it a nurse was putting an IV needle in my arm. It was long so I had to keep my arm straight to keep the needle from digging in. It was 3:15 when they wheeled me into the other room. Waiting an hour would have been only a dream. We wheeled through the double doors, and as soon as she started to move me from my bed onto the operating table, I closed my eyes. Tears ran down my cheeks. I heard the doctors voice as he greeted me, but still I kept my eyes closed as much as possible. I opened them only enough to know that it was a huge room with all white walls and bright lights. I put my feet up in the stirrups and the doctor asked me how I was feeling.
I ignored his question, hating the sound of his voice and hating myself for going through with this. When I woke up, it felt like hours had passed but they told me it had only been 10 minutes and I realized then, that in less then 10 minutes, I had taken my baby’s life. I opened my eyes as little as possible and walked slowly back to where I had left Matt so many hours ago. He was the only one left in the waiting room. He looked up at me with concern and love and helped me walk out. I couldn’t let go of him. He asked me several times if I was okay. I f I said yes, I was lying. Nothing about me was okay. I had just made the worst decision of my life. I was the baby’s mother and was supposed to protect him, but I didn’t.
What could we have done differently? Maybe we should have confided in our parents. They would have been disappointed, but they still would have loved us. They would have loved their grandchild, but we didn’t give them that chance. We didn’t even give our baby the opportunity to love us. I will never hear him giggle and say “Mommy”. Matt will never laugh with him or teach him how to play basketball. We stole that from him. We stole his life and his opportunities-all because we weren’t ready to raise a baby and give up our lives. I can say without reserve that we made the wrong choice. Maybe one day matt and I will see him in Heaven. There, I will beg for his forgiveness, but until then, we will live with the regret that we never let him live.”
seriously guys,life story and realy bad.i hate abortions and i cant belive some people go through so much pain,i kno babys can be a burden in some peoples eyes but its cruel.
xxxxx