Author:
sarina (depressed and hurting)
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Date Posted: 15:47:53 11/12/06 Sun
Hi. My name is Sarina. I'm 16 years old. I had an abortion on May 11, 2006. I don't know how to feel anymore. I don't even know any words to express what I feel and think about myself. I was such a good girl. I never got in trouble at school, I had good grades, my parents and I always bumped heads, but other than that I was always very sheltered and never made any huge mistakes. Then one day the wrong boy came along. I met him at a party my friend and I were throwing on Dec. 17th 2005. He came with another mutual friend. There was no friendship with him and I. We started quickly into a relationship and we moved very quickly. Less than a week after my birthday, on January 28, 2006 I lost my virginity to him. My first time was horrible. I never talk about it with anyone, even my mom when she found out I was pregnant. After the first time, it just kept happening. Whenever he would ask, I would oblige. I was in love. It wasn't until March, when I was already two months late, that I talked to him about me being pregnant. I told him I was two months late and all he did was stare at me with a blank face. The next day, I couldn't reach him. I found out a few days later from a friend that he was out of town visiting family for 2 weeks. Those two weeks were hell for me. I was worrying and stressing and had no one to turn to talk to. The day he came back he came to my house to see me. All I remember of that day is that we were standing on my porch and he had his hands on my stomach and just whispered that we couldn't keep it. I always told myself that i would NEVER have an abortion no matter what. When your in the situation; though, you see things differently. I live in Texas, and you can't have an abortion without parental consent if your under 18. I tried thinking of anything. I was so scared to tell my parents. When finally I did tell them it was like I was pushed into a deeper level of hell. I couldn't talk to them without my mom telling me to go lay on my back or my dad calling me a "slut" or a "whore". May 9, 2006 I took my $50 and went to have a sonogram. I was 13.4 weeks pregnant. May 10th I had the first day of the abortion done. My best friends mom paid for it. My parents wanted nothing to do with me or anything. My dad just took me to the place, signed the papers, left, and came back when it was time for me to go home. The first day they had to put something in me to dilate me. The nurse said it was just going to be a little discomfort. It hurt worse than when I lost my virginity. May 11th was the same routine. I was dropped off and stripped from my waist down. I laid on a table and they gave me some kind of medicine to make me drowsy but not totally put me out. I remember the doctor walking in and opening sissors. I remember the pain, and kicking my legs until more nurses came in, but that's it. The next thing I rememember is the nurses helping me walk to the bathroom to put a pad on. Then as I was walking to the recovery room, I threw up. I saw no familiar faces. No hands of support. Nothing. I was in a cold doctors office sitting down waiting for my dad. The first weeks after I had the abortion I regretted it so much. My parents wouldn't take me back to have the check-up you're suppose to get, so I was worrying that something might get infected. Since I couldn't find a way back to the doctors I just tried to make sure I didn't do any of the things that could mess up something. I had breakdowns every night. I lost contact with my friends. I couldn't eat or sleep. I was 95 pounds then I dropped to 82. I couldn't worry about myself though. All I could think about was my baby. Through June and July I got better and worse; better and worse. None of my family talked to me. I spent my summer in isolation in my room.My father hated me. I understand it's because he is hurt,but I don't know. It can't be about him, I mean, I'm his daughter. He's had time to grieve and take steps to move forward and try to repair things with me, but yet he hasn't. I didn't mean to hurt my family, but they don't see that I'm hurting more. Ive tried to talk to them, but nothing gets through. Sometime in August I decided to just pretend I was fine. No one at school knew about what happened, so it wasn't too hard there. At home, my family and I talk when necessary, and all the rest of the time I'm confined to my room. I tried to get involved at school so that I don't have to think about what happened, and it worked for a while. I thought I had healed. Now I know that I haven't. All I did was push it to the side. My baby was going to be born in November. Halloween night I realized this, and all the things I had tried to run from hit me harder than ever before. I hear baby crying when I'm walking through the halls, and even louder at night while I lay awake at night. If I do fall asleep I have nightmares about my baby, and other dreams of my baby in heaven asking me to go be with them and keep them warm because they're lonely and they want their mother. I can't keep going on pretending. How do I forgive myself for murder? How does my baby forgive me?
I just want my baby back. I want to be pregnant again. I want to make up for what I lost. I want to be a good mother. I see girls and women all the time that have it harder than me, and they're making it. Sometimes I feel like I could have made it too. I feel like if they can do it I can too. Then other times I feel like, no Sarina, you made the right choice, you weren't ready to have a baby. You're still a baby yourself. I have reasons justifying that what I did was right and other reasons justifying what I did was wrong. How do I know which is right? Did I do the right thing? I feel like I'll never know. I loved my baby, but I don't think murdering them was a great way to show that. I want my baby back so much. I want to be pregnant again. I want to go back and change things. I know I can't, but that doesn't change the fact that I wish I could.
I hear cliche crap all the time.
"You did the right thing for you"
"There will be other times for you to be pregnant"
That all might be true, but it doesn't help. Don't tell me I can move on when I keep proving to myself that I can't. Don't tell me things are going to be fine, when they aren't even close.
I still talk to the guy who got me pregnant. We're not together anymore, but he's the only one who I can talk to that knows about what happens and doesn't judge me. He says he understands, but I know he doesn't. He didn't have to deal with any of the sh*t I did. He didn't have to kill his child. He didn't have to go through the pain. He doesn't have the nightmares at night. He's so ------- lucky. Even though I love him more than anything I think I hate him more than I hate myself becuase he allowed me to make the biggest decision of my life. He suggested it, and now he says he understands. UGH! No. I thought no one understood. I thought I was crazy. Then yesterday I took a chance and emailed Cheryl and from her site figured out that I have PAS. Wow, there's even a name for it... What do I do? How do I heal? How do I move on? Somebody... Anybody...
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So _soon
