When I was 16 I accidentally got pregnant (MAP) and my mom forced me into a termination. She forbid me from seeing my boyfriend and told me I was not to tell anyone.
The night before my termination I saw on my bed crying, all I wanted to do was run away, tun to my dad's house and ask for help (they were divorced) but I couldn't because I was too scared of what my mom would do if she knew I'd told him.
On the morning of the termination I sat in the passenger seat of the car and sobbed for the entire journey and not once did my mom ask me if I was ok. She came into the clinic with me, signed me in and then left me there whilst she went and did some shopping.
As I lay on the theatre trolley, watching the anaesthetist come at me with the anaesthetic I was screaming inside my head that I had to put an end to this, I had to tell him to stop, but I couldn't get the words out.
Word spread around school and I used to go into my lessons and there would always be "Queen is a murderer" sprawled across the blackboard and this went on for months. I dreaded going to school and I cried every day.
It all led to a downward spiral of promiscuous, shameful, destructive, rebellious behaviour and I was in a bad place for a long time. For years and years I hated myself. It's been about 18 years now since it happened and it's only in the last few years that I have managed to put it behind me to the point where I can talk about it without crying or blaming my myself.
Sometimes I look at my mom and I think, "Does she still think about it like I do? Does she have any idea of how much it affected me? Does she have any clue how much it destroyed me?"
I don't think she does though, and that's ok, it's water under the bridge now I guess.