Abortion + Me
Trigger Warning: ⚠️ I want to let you know this ritual in writing is in regards my personal experience with abortion and the decision I made 17 years ago. This is NOT written or shared to negate anyone’s personal stance on abortion but is simply my share because I think it is important to know the actual faces, realities and experiences of live people outside of talking points from politicians, especially those without uteri.
“33! 33% of Black babies are aborted in this country! Look at this picture, how could you destroy this baby?”
Abortion and reproductive rights are everyday conversations in some places across the country right now, even more so since SCOTUS decided to overturn the 1973 ruling of Roe v Wade. A decision for millions of bodies across the country seeking medical care, reproductive support and abortions. Ever since, states across the country have taken the opportunity to launch their own complete abortion bans or limit how and when a fetus is considered a life, the exceptions to the abortion ban like incest or rape and if life begins at conception which, most uterus having people are not even aware of. I agreed to participate in a monologue similar to the Vagina Monologues as a character named Rose, where she shared her story of abortion and the impact it made on her life. I made the choice to do so because not only is it an important matter but I believe we have to move beyond the rhetoric we are hearing about abortions and the intellect and get to the heart of the matter, people. Real lives. The concept of these monologues come from an actual book, “You’re The Only One I’ve Ever Told: The Stories Behind Abortion” by Dr. Meera Shah, the one below is my own story.
It was June 2005 and I just graduated from high school and was prepared to leave for basic training to join the United States Air Force Reserves. I was at work and realized I had not had a period and I was incredibly tired. I was working 3-4 jobs because I wanted to save up money before I left in case my mom and siblings needed something while I was gone but I did not think I would be THIS tired as of late. I called one of my older sisters and told her how I felt and asked if it was possible I was pregnant? She told me to call this organization and they would give me a pregnancy test for free but I needed to go ASAP between my next working gig so we actually know if I was or not and we could go from there. Then she told me to call her when I left the clinic. I have always been an athlete so having a late period was not necessarily a sign of pregnancy for me because, we lots of female athlete miss or never get periods.
“The condom broke.”
When I got off from my morning shift, I drove straight from work to the clinic and provided a urine sample. Then was escorted to a private room. While I waited I thought of all the things, maybe I was just worked up over nothing. Maybe I was just tired from all of the senior things, graduation things and working and working out. Then the nurse came in and confirmed I was pregnant, about 6 weeks. Thinking back, I knew exactly when it happened. The time the condom broke. She gave me some pamphlets and told me there were options and gave me some statistics regarding how many Christian families were seeking to adopt children. I had not even given thought enough about actually being pregnant, let alone to make a decision about adoption, yet. I DID know telling my parents was not an option and I did not have to because I was 18 so it was my choice.
I grew up in the church. The same pastor that baptized my parents, dedicated me when I was a baby and then married my husband and I. Growing up in the church abortion was a sin, heck sex before marriage was a sin. BUT so was listening to secular or “worldly music”, make up, adornments, anklets, belly chains, baby tee shirts, lipstick and anything that possibly seemed remotely any form of fun. My parents, both ministers were strict about what we were able to do, see and who we even hung out with so sex was not even going to be a conversation. In fact, we did not even know much about our parents and their lives or lifestyles prior to Christianity.
After leaving the clinic, I called my sister back and told her the test was positive. There was not much thought into what would happen next because she told me she scheduled an appointment for me to get an abortion. (Hold up, now I know we think in today’s world, a person choosing to have an abortion is and should be making their own choice- so hearing my sister made the decision for me does not exactly scream bodily autonomy BUT she actually made the decision out of love, fear and protection. Remember all of the things I named in the church up there 👆 yeah, layer in our father is and has always been heavily misogynistic. When this sister moved out and got pregnant, my father told her her life was over and she was damaged goods now that she had a baby. He even told her as smart as she is she would not go back or finish college and especially on his dime (not that he was the one paying when she went the first time…). My oldest sister before this one was currently 23 years old, with 3 children under 3 and 2 possible fathers. She was a stripper at the time and not even allowed to come to our house anymore or for me to babysit my nieces and nephew because of her lifestyle choices. So my sister deciding on an abortion for me, came from her wanting to protect me from the wrath of my father). She gave me the date and time and told me we would go over to Old Colorado a week later to the Planned Parenthood and I would need to arrange my work schedule around it.
A week. I had to wait for my appointment for a week, which in hindsight only gave me more time to think and be in my own head. I called the father and informed him I was pregnant. He was happy and said he would talk to his grandmother and see how she would be willing to help and support us. But I could not see myself being in a long-term committed relationship with him or anyone after the experience of my parents divorce. This was exactly why I had no chosen to be in any relationships for years at this point. When we talked again a few days later, he said his grandmother would help us get an apartment and we should get married and raise our baby ( side note: when society tries to say Black men are absent and do not want to be a part of their children’s lives, from my experience I cannot believe it). I could not do it. He wasn’t a bad guy, in fact he was the sweetest and most patient- I just wasn’t ready. I could not see myself forfeiting all of my dreams and the rest of his high school career for us to marry young and raise a child. Don’t get me wrong I had no problem with working, but working and possibly never having enough, not being ready spiritually, physically or emotionally to raise this child- I couldn’t do it. No, I wouldn’t do it.
Ya’ll it is not easy to share a story like this and if you made it this far, thank you. I am going to post a part 2 to wrap this up because I do not want to leave out the details that led up to my decision and how it has since impacted my life ever since. Keep a look out for part 2.