Difficult To Talk About..

I am 20 years old. Back in November, I was dating a coworker  and eagerly planning for my 20th birthday in a couple of months. Living the dream, you might say. Things with K and I weren’t too terribly serious, but I wasn’t worried about it. We were  having fun, and I never would have dreamed that I could be pregnant. I had NuvaRing and we used protection every time. Until my period was late. It had never been late before in my entire life.

After two positive pregnancy tests, I had to break the news to K. I knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, but I couldn’t have imagined what was going to happen.

He said he would be there for me no matter what, but warned me that if I decided to keep the baby, our lives would be over. He was as nice as pie on the outside, but I kept seeing through his remarks: they were cloaks. What he wanted was an abortion. And after much struggle, I made the appointment.

However, the more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t go through with it.

One night, barely two or three days before I found out I was “with child,” I was sitting on my bed and thinking. I knew in my heart I couldn’t go through with an abortion. Adoption would tear me apart too; if I allowed myself to hold the baby, to nurture it in the womb for nine months and then just, BAM! gone, it would kill me. But my PARENTS would kill me if they knew.

Just as I had come to the decision that I would have the baby and K and my parents could do what they wanted, I got a terrible pain in my stomach and lower back. I then went to the bathroom to discover that I was bleeding.

I panicked. I instinctively knew that something wasn’t right. Not knowing what to do, I called my best friend J at work. I then had to wait for two hours, in extreme pain, while she stopped at McDonald’s and picked up her boyfriend S before taking me to the hospital.

We finally got to the emergency room. They rushed me back. They drew some blood and had me pee in a cup so they could do pregnancy tests of their own. Meanwhile the pain meds kicked in, and J and S had some relationship drama. I was in pain, and I was scared, for myself and for the baby. All I wanted was for K to be there. Not because I loved him (we hadn’t been together very long) but because he was the one other person truly involved in the situation. He helped create the life that was now slipping away.

The doctors did ultrasounds and more tests, and decided to keep me overnight. Talk began to circulate of tubal pregnancies and removing ovaries and fallopian tubes. I was terrified. I wanted my Mommy and Daddy, but they couldn’t find out where I was. They would kill me.

I finally cracked the next day. The good doctors said I needed a laporoscopy so that they could find out what was going on, and see if they needed to remove anything. I called my cousin M, and she called my parents, who were very upset and less than supportive throughout the whole thing.

Thankfully the vast majority of the pain was due to a cyst on my ovary that had ruptured. But, I lost the baby too. And no one has been on my side through this ordeal. My parents, especially my dad, are prone to thinking I’m nothing but a whore. K left me shortly after, saying he “couldn’t see himself getting more attached”.

I try not to let it bother me, or to even think about it, but I had to get it out.

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