Last nite, I was feeling all types of anxiety. This isn't a procedure anybody looks forward to. I couldn't sleep. I was worried my ride wouldn't show. The what ifs...
*NOTE* This post contains graphic content of my experience in the hands of an abortion doctor. If you're the least bit squemish or a pro-lifer, do us both a favor and click the red X in the upper right hand corner of your screen.
She came through. Lucas has been my homegirl for years, 16 to be exact. When I told her bout the shit with EvilAsianX and Blonde Wonder, she told me not to concern myself with it. This was comforting to a point, being that she too has flaked out on me on occasion. This is a situation she can relate to cause our lives are very similar and she knew exactly what I was feeling.
When she came in her arms were full. (she's a tiny lil thing, btw) She brought milk and juice for the kids and a space heater so my room won't be so cold. She's never been a selfish person and I was grateful for the gifts, being that I know her situation is just as hard as my own.
We take a few twists and turns and find the place. It's very quiet, clean and suburban. The small group of protesters at the bottom of the hill with posters of babies, full born and utero were very peacful. These protesters were mainly old(er) white men.
I arrive, sign my name and piss in a dixie cup. Wait. Fill out forms. Wait. Pay. Wait. Watch video. Wait. That waiting shit drove me insane. I guess they're giving time to those who really aren't sure if that's a procedure they want to go through with. It's a heavy decision no doubt. By 1, (I'd been there since 10:30) I was ready to slit my own wrists from the excessive. Finally my name is called and my heart takes residence in my throat.
I'm lead into an exam room where I'm instructed to undress from the waist down and cover my bottom half with this thing that appears to be a square of toilet paper it's so damn small. I wait some more. They're all about this waiting thing. The bitchy spanish nurse swoops in some minutes later to lead me to another room, bottomless and all. Precariously placed upon the table, I have to maneuver this way and that to get the best angle for the doctor, who was also a monumental bastard. Is it really required to be a heartless bastard to perform this kind of procedure? I wonder if he gets some perverse thrill out if it. Possibly, he should seek mental help.
He inserts a wand type apparatus to find out how far along I am. After looking into the crystal ball, he concludes I'm about 11 weeks. My cervix is pried open with the speculum and everything went downhill from there. He injected my cervix with a numbing agent (which hurts like hell and he and I had a few choice words) so I wouldn't feel as much pain. Being fully awake for this procedure is one of the worst things I've ever experienced. When he told the nurse to "Get the knife" my breath stopped for a few minutes. I replayed the video in my mind because I don't remember them mentioning a knife at all, only suction. I stare at the flourescent lighting, mad at myself for bringing my life to this dismal place. Somewhere between my self loathing and emotional outburst, I was informed the procedure was complete and I needed to get dressed and move on to the recovery room. All that was left of me was a small jar full of blood.
I get back home and tell the dad it's over and done with. He's...speachless. He can't believe I went ahead and did it, let alone without him. He'll be okay. He swears I didn't tell him, but of course I did. If I remember correctly, he's the one that told me he wasn't giving me any money or going with me, but he's mad at me for going on my own. The hell did he think I was gonna do; bitch, whine and stomp for his insolence? Sit complacently and wait for him to place some money in my outstreatched hand? OOOOOHHH or how about not go at all cause his financial support was crucial and his refusal would leave me with no other choice but to keep this child? Fuck outta heah with that dumb shit. I told him what I was gonna do, when I was gonna do it, HOW I was gonna do it and God bless the man that's able to stop me. No nigga's money is gonna control me. Ever.
I do not regret my decision at all. As far as I can tell, I'm healing nicely. I was very sore yesterday and couldn't sit up long. I'm fine today. I think I can even venture out to the grocery store. What I do regret is the situation I created for myself cause I know goodness well I had no intentions of being with that man, being that in my eyes, he has very little value. The week I was broke, which wasn't long ago, I asked this nigga for $40 so I could eat for the rest of the week, and you know what this nigga says? "I aint got it" Aint.got.it. Feeding this baby starts now, not 7 months from now, and I certainly don't have the patience to deal with his cornucopia of deficiencies. My world is right again.
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