I found out I was pregnant 30 years ago The day it was confirmed, I went with my partner to a lovely market town,spent the day cradling my 'baby',and thinking about what may be.
My partner was in the grip of mental health problems, we were in negative equity, in a grotty, damp, one bedroomed flat, and I knew then that I would be the only earner for the forseeable future (which has proved to be correct, 30 years later). I knew that I would bring my child into poverty, with a, through no fault of his own, useless father.
I made the decision to terminate; the worst day of my life was the day I went to take the tablets that would end the life of my child, I took two hours off work to attend the hospital, and cried throughout. The nurse was very kind and asked me, before I took the first tablet, was I sure? I felt i had no choice (though I know that really - I could choose, my baby or my partner, I could not support both)
3 days later I went, with my partner, to the maternity ward, where we spent the day in a side ward, whilst I 'gave birth' ( or as it was 'expelled' the foetus)
It was horrendous: painful, horrific, traumatic and desperately, desperately sad, for both of us. Desperate indeed for my little, little child, who I held in the palm of my hand, and wept over, sorry and guilty for having killed her.
I secretly named her Rosemary, for remembrance
We had counselling afterwards, but i have never forgiven myself, I think everyday about that tiny body in my hand, and what might have been.
I got sterilised, as I could not countenance getting pregnant again.
We have had sex about three times afterwards, each time I cried uncontrollably, which has put us both off, and despite the counselling, never attempted again-30 years of companionship and caring for a man with MH disorder, instead of raising a child.
Thirty years later we are still together, and occasionally talk about 'Rosemary', and what might have been.
He still has mental health problems. I am still working to support us both, and will do so until I retire. I've accepted this.
On the surface we have a half-decent life
But every day I think, 'what could have been', and I weep.
This post is a testement to the child I could have had, to the future I chose not to pursue, to the decision I made then, and regret.
I have kept this a secret for 30 years, only me, my partner, my GP and counsellor know about this
I'm too ashamed to let anyone else know, but Rosemary, I want to have you known and acknowledged- i want you to know I loved you, and love you.
I'm so sorry for my self-indulgence here.