PTSD Does Comes Later

This blog contains my story of my abortion in 2010. I felt like I never really talked to anybody about my experience. I talked to no one, not every detail. I need to let it out, I can't hang onto it anymore.

I got pregnant when I was 14, and my abortion ended when I was 15. I was in 9th grade. I didn't know no better. My boyfriend and I just wanted to have fun, have sex anywhere we could. I enjoyed it. I had fun. I remember very lightly of actually wanting a baby back then, and when I did find out I was pregnant, I just shut it all off.

I remember taking a pregnancy test, it showing a bright positive. I was scared, so I wrapped up my boyfriends jacket with the pregnant test and put it in my neighbors bushes. I didn't know where else to put it. I was afraid. What if my parents found it?

It is so hard knowing my son, (or I have this feeling that it was a boy), my Jackson, is gone. I look at the kids around me, and my heart just aches. I need my son to love. I often imagine my son running to me with his arms wide open, loving on me. His mother. How happy I would be.

But back to reality, I don't have my son anymore. If people ask if I have children, I often say deceased. I am a mother. No matter what no one says, I AM A MOTHER. I held a baby in my tummy, not for 9 months, but for 3 months. I felt him inside me. Wanting pizza. God did I crave pizza like crazy. That's all I ate. I ate a whole pizza by myself for supper almost every night. I loved it. Jackson loved it.

Then I got sick. I felt like I was dying. I couldn't hold my food, I couldn't stand anything, any type of smell. I got sick just by looking at something. Morning sickness kicked my ass. Weeks went by and I tried to ignore it. Eventually I got so week I told my dad to take me to the doctors. (I forgot I was pregnant, and I know that's bad to say but I did.)

I got checked out, took a piss test and they told me I was pregnant. (Shit, now I remember). The thing my dad told me will always be engraved in my brain. "Looks like you're gonna have to start eating healthy for my grandkid". Fuck dad.

My mom had another idea. She hated me being pregnant. My brother called me a whore. I had no one.

I remember being on my parents bed, alone, crying, hitting my head repeatedly, calling myself a stupid bitch. I hated myself. I still do.

I had to go to Atlanta Georgia for my abortion. I was too far along to have it anywhere in South Carolina. The trip was mostly of my mother bitching at me. I better not have sex again.

So when we got there, I went to get some type of seaweed thing in me? It hurt so bad, I cried with my mother right next to me. The nurses kept telling me to relax, and I couldn't for the life of me. Most painful thing that has ever happened to me before.

That same day, we went out to Chick Fil A to eat. I couldn't eat, I immediately puked everything out. I starved that day, and the next day of the procedure. It was horrible.

I met a couple of girls the day I ruined my life. One said she was having one because of back problems. The other one, I can't remember.

A couple hours later, I was ready. All I can remember from that was when I was on a metal table, talking to the doctor, then I was out like a light.

That's all I can remember.

R.I.P. Jackson. Mommy loves you so much and is so sorry. I miss you everyday of my life. I am a horrible person, and I need you. Everyday I've been thinking about you.

The year is 2016, and I am 21 years old. I am married to my amazing husband, (who is not the father of my son). We live on our own, pay our own bills, and love each other every day. And we are also trying for a baby at the moment. I miss Jackson everyday. I want to hold you. Love you. But I can't. I love you baby.