A couple of people know I did an abortion, but not many know the real story behind the smiles and facades of strength.
Because I do want to keep it short, I won’t tell you of my insecure childhood- growing up experiencing two households dedicated to indulging me in physical and mental abuse.
I won’t elaborate on the fact that the women who should have mattered the most failed me almost as much as I failed their standards.
Nor the rape, nor the molestation, nor the constant demon in my head saying it could be worse.
I come from Upper St. Andrew. I have a pool in my backyard. I have space in my house that I forget exists. I am privileged. This is my penance.
I’ll take you instead to 2013 when I started UWI doing a degree that was expected of me. My “family” had gone into near bankruptcy and I was a loose cannon at school. I had the freedom to do as I felt, men noticed me. I was easy. I loved the sex, the money and the drugs. My grades were garbage with a GPA of 0.1 From 2013-2016 I was in school inconsistently due to financial issues. I decided to quit completely in May 2016.
I hated my major and I moved out. My boyfriend was doing very well academically and pleaded with me, I’d resigned myself that this was another punishment for not being ‘the perfect child’. On January 10, 2017, after weeks of terrible abdominal pain, I went to the emergency room with my father (he picked me up as I was in so much pain I had to call him). A greasy Indian doctor saw me- “Congrats” you’re pregnant.
I’ve always been pro-choice, pro-abortion, pro-sex, pro-woman. But an abortion? Not me, no. I was on the pill.
The last time I had sex was on my period. Impossible. My best friend bought me six pregnancy tests. All positive. She told me about a doctor-brave faced “yeah totally” this is what I want.
My boyfriend was supportive of either keeping or aborting. It was my choice and I hated him even more for it.
I saw the doctor the next day. Paid the money and he stuffed me with pills to induce my baby’s early departure. I was in pain, but still, my baby stayed.
On the 19th of January, I went back to the doctor to find out how much it would cost for a D&C - A surgical removal since my baby wouldn’t come out. This was the first time I had a scan of my uterus to see the baby. I told him I didn’t want the printout and I’ve regretted it every day since. The doctor told me there is no baby. It is a blighted ovum. An empty sac. Turns out I couldn’t even conceive properly. He stuck in more pills and I passed my sin in the toilet that night holding my lover’s hand.
I move after the bleeding stops, which is almost a month full of fevers, cold sweats and extreme confusion. I move countries without telling anyone. To a place, I know no one. I work under the table jobs that affords just enough because of my Jamaican stinginess. I develop discipline. I fast. I do not think of my baby. I’m in a constant state of brilliant mania. I decide to switch degrees and go back to school. I decide to come back. I come back when school starts and my anxiety rears up. I go back to see a therapist- You have Bipolar II, take this pill.
I take the pills. My family-which is back on its feet- relationship cracks. I have more rage than I have ever felt. We walk around with plastered smiles. I tell my lover how much I hate them. January 2018, I kill them all in my mind and speak to only my father. I go to school. My lover and I break up. I find new friends who are a wholesome, focused set. I get a job. I work and do school. My GPA is 3.5. I’m set to graduate at the end of the year. My lover just finished his Masters. We are back and he tells me constantly how proud he is of me.
My abortion was a reality check.
It gave me the discipline and confidence to make a better me. I’m not perfect. I suffer from constant guilt, anxiety and self-doubt. My abortion gave me a chance to restart and rewrite myself on my own terms. It gave me a chance to cast away my past. I have hope now. I make it clear what I want and will not stand. My abortion showed me that my body is mine.
I just want to be better for when my baby comes back.