In early 2016, I found out I was pregnant. My partner and I agreed to terminate the pregnancy and within a week of our conversation, I had an appointment. Every step of the way I was surprised by how seamless the procedures were and how not freaked out I was. I'd thought I'd be rife with conflicting emotions. I'd mentally prepared for a hard day… turns out, unnecessarily.
All I felt (apart from the cramps and bleeding) was relief. I had to take a cut to my paycheck that week and had to pay for the procedure, but it was a heck of a lot easier and cheaper than having a baby! If I’d kept it, I’d be a mother now, trying to rush through my Master’s degree on a part-time student salary with a partner whose job takes them out of town every couple of weeks for weeks at a time. No, thank you.
Instead, I spent the day on my couch, passively miscarrying and "up and at'em" the following day.
Months later, I found out I was pregnant again. Time for abortion #2.
My second abortion sent my body through a loop. My body did a full "NOPE" on the Misoprostol (the pills that make your uterus contract and miscarry the embryo) and at my follow-up ultrasound, I saw the little lumpy bugger still hanging out in my uterus. So, I had to do another round of Misoprostol (not fun). Through the two rounds, my emotional brain kept taunting me with thoughts about how I kept getting pregnant for a reason, and the guilt associated with such ruminations: I should have known better; I'm old enough; etc. I had to keep convincing myself it was the right decision.
After the second cycle of Misoprostol, I met the mini-liver-shaped lump on the toilet one day. It was weird to see it there, chilling in my undies. I washed it off and inspected it. There was no humanness to it. Despite its amorphous appearance, I felt weird disposing of it - I wanted to honour what my body had made. So, I buried it in the soil of my apple tree with the promise to be the best mother I can be when the time is right.
I am grateful for being able to defer motherhood. I recognize the privilege in my experience. If I lived elsewhere or didn’t have the money, I’d be a mother (based on pregnancy #1). I don’t know what I would have done...
Thankfully, I safely accessed a couple of abortions and they were not the scary big deal I had been mislead to believe all abortions were.