Walking around the house, trying to distract myself from the four horrible tasting pills under my tongue. Only another 25 minutes to go. Reflecting on the last couple of days, I'm tired. Relieved. Scared.
I have my new dressing gown at the ready, along with my hot water bottle and plenty of sweets and chocolate, which I later found out I wouldn't keep down.
I've just gotten back from a city 2 hours away, and beyond that another city 2 hours away, where I had to travel secretly to pick up a parcel I'd bought online for a donation from a website that helps women in my situation. Women that do not have the choice to keep or terminate their own pregnancy, because of their countries rules.
As a nineteen year old, its not something you have to deal with everyday. Its definitely not something I thought I'd have to make a choice about, surely when people find out they are pregnant, that's it? Time to get ready for baby?
I've been hauling my sick, newly pregnant already worn out body around a city that is not home. I've been into every bathroom in every place I visited, dealing with my everyday sickness. I can barely eat.
All the anxiety over the last few weeks! Will it work, will I get it in time, will I regret it, what if something goes horribly wrong.
When I picked up the pills at a tiny post office in the corner of a supermarket, they'd been posted from Mumbai, they came with strict instructions, in a packet that barely been closed. With a few extra for safety measures. It was very brief and subtle. It reminded me how under the table it really was.
I felt let down that I had to do all this to get to do something that concerned my body, only me. Its not fair. My country has let me down.
The process itself was scary, somewhat painful, draining. On top of my already constant sickness, I was puking every 20 minutes. Severe cramping for a couple of hours, followed by a peak, then nothing. Silence. Emptiness.
A couple of hours later, large clots of blood in the toilet. A sigh of relief. Its done. I hope. I can't stand, it just keeps coming!
I finally go to bed, after my long two days dedicated to this whole procedure. I feel grateful that there is people out where who care, and that I had the opportunity to obtain the tablets
I slept very well that night, when I woke the next morning, a sense of peace, and normality. It was my first morning waking up not needing to rush to the bathroom to get sick.
What I have in return is my youth again, and also my peace of mind and happiness knowing that I can meet my little baby in years to come.
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Pregnancy
My story of an illegal abortion.
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SugarnetMum · 30/06/2017 10:18
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