Am I A Murderer?

Am I a murderer?

I spent months wanting to ignore all of the signs. Once there was clear, undeniable proof of a growth that I was in no way prepared for, I couldn’t do anything but panic. I was absolutely mortified.

I spent weeks just trying to come to an official decision. Even if I believed to still be a little girl before, I am surely a woman now, for this had been one of the hardest and most life changing decisions that I ever had to make.

What was I supposed to do?

All I could do was analyze the facts, so let's break down all of the things I am certain of. Number one, it was certain that I was in no way prepared. I am 21 years old and unemployed. Literally still living in my mother’s house and struggling to get through my regular day to day life. I had too many conflicts ranging from strained parental relationships to strained romantic relationships. I am absolutely in love with my partner, however the relationship itself was in a pretty rough place. And while we’re on the topic of my partner, I might as well throw in the fact that he also was in no way, shape, or form, ready to adopt such a large commitment in his life. He is also 21 years old and unemployed, living with me in my mother’s home because of his own strained parent relationships. We’ve both been job hunting with no signs of hope yet. Everything with trying to adjust post-pandemic has been extremely tough.

Let’s also talk about all of the what ifs. What if this was exactly what I needed? Everything happens for a reason, right? This could be the light I needed in all this darkness. This could be what I need to light a fire under my ass and become my biggest motivation. This could be the decision that makes or breaks my life. What if this brings me the greatest happiness of my life? What if this shows me the unconditional love I’ve always needed? And I don’t mean that in the selfish “I want someone to love me” way, but in a way where I know that I could finally pour every ounce of my love into something, someone, that won’t ever betray me. I love love. All I ever wanted to do was give and receive love. This could be that missing part of my heart that would make me feel full again. What if this is supposed to be my biggest blessing? What if despite my situation, this was meant to be? What if this was the kind of growth I needed. I’ve spent so long looking to reach a new level of growth and maturity. Although, I didn’t expect it to be so drastic, what if this was it? What if this is what the entire family needs to bring the love back again? Everyone has been so divided, especially with experiencing so many major deaths. What if instead of dwelling on all the losses in the family, what we needed was to celebrate a new life within the family?

So many questions and not enough answers. It only leaves me with the same question, what was I supposed to do?

So deeply within my soul, everything in me wanted to keep my unborn child and follow through with the pregnancy. However, having wishful thinking wasn’t enough. The cold hard facts of the situation was that I wasn’t financially prepared, And while I had faith that going through with the pregnancy would be the driving force behind me grinding harder to make myself become financially stable, it just wasn’t a risk that I could take. That on top of the shaky relationship that I was having with the father, it sounded like a recipe for disaster. It takes a village to raise a child, and the only person I could think of that would support my decision was me. The father without a doubt wasn't ready, and although he vowed to not be an absent father, I didn't want to be a single parent. I was able to see the vision all the way through, and he wasn’t. He wasn’t ready to stop being selfish yet. I also didn’t want to be the pregnant girlfriend getting cheated on, and I definitely didn’t want to be denoted to the “babymama” stereotype. The man that the father was wasn’t someone that I could proudly carry a child for knowing how he treats me behind closed doors. I’m still a hidden figure in his life, why would I think that I could carry his child. Love wasn’t enough. I was stuck between believing in the man that I knew he could become, or believing in the man that he currently was. I couldn’t risk everything and make life altering decisions not just for myself, but for the child, based on a premise of what I think he could be. So I went with believing in the man that he currently was.

With taking into consideration two major deciding factors, financial stability and parental stability on behalf of the child, the scoreboard is reading 0-2 and it’s not leaning in my favor at all. I’ve always been pro-choice, and always swore that if I ever found myself in this position that the answer would be plain and simple. I quickly found that it wasn’t. My moral compass started making its exit and my mental health was slowly beginning to spiral.

This wasn’t the kind of situation that I could keep ignoring and pushing to the side to deal with later, I was running out of time.

Another thing that I knew for certain was that I couldn’t go through with the surgical procedure. That just wasn’t even an option for me. I couldn’t stomach the thought of it. I couldn’t fathom going through all that, let alone dealing with the pain and hiding the whole recovery process from my mother. So my only option was to go with the medication procedure, at least that one could be played off as a bad menstrual cycle and I could even try to convince myself that that’s all it was. However, that expedited my entire process. It cut down the amount of time to officially make a decision and I was feeling every ounce of pressure that the world could possibly put on me. A medication abortion could only be performed up until 9 weeks. When I first found out I was pregnant, it was March 1st and I was already around 6 weeks, almost 7. I had 2 weeks to make such a difficult decision.

Over the course of those 2 weeks I made 3 attempts at terminating the pregnancy. 3 different appointments at 3 different women’s clinics to try to go through with it.

I was still on my mother’s health insurance plan and I was scared to use the insurance to cover the bill just in case somehow my mother would find out. That meant the father and I would both have to come out of pocket for it despite us being unemployed and struggling to find work. The day of the my first appointment, we both had bills on auto-pay taken out and I fell just short of the cost of the abortion. That added to my unwillingness to go through with it in the first place forced me into leaving the office. Honestly, I think that’s what was best for me that day because I almost threw up at the front desk while trying to go through with it.

My second attempt, I was an emotional wreck. I couldn’t even bring myself to go into the office. It was that day that I realized when I went through with my decision, I’d never be able to look at myself the same. I arrived 20 minutes early to the appointment and sat in the car uncontrollably sobbing until I was 30 minutes late. At that point, there was no way that they’d still take me. At the end of the day, they are a business and it’s extremely unprofessional to be that late. Luckily, with me already having a feeling that the situation would play out that way, I already had 2 other appointments lined up in case this one went wrong. My boyfriend, and father of the child, was beside me consoling me until he realized that I wouldn’t be getting the procedure that day and his energy completely flipped on me. I was already 8 weeks and 2 days pregnant at this point, and he didn’t know I already had other appointments lined up. Also, keep in mind that the longer I waited appointments were becoming scarce. He thought he was stuck becoming a father and all the “understanding” he had for me dealing with the situation rapidly went out the window. His true colors finally showed. He made me feel like such a bad person and like it was the stupidest thing I could possibly be doing trying to keep this child, not even understanding how hard and how heavy everything was weighing on me. This moment confirmed everything that I was afraid of. If i were to continue with my pregnancy, and not get the abortion I knew for a fact that I’d be alone through it all. He just wasn’t ready to stop being selfish. The entire ride home and even after all I heard from him was “me, me, me” and how negatively it would affect his life, but what about me and mine? What about my feelings and emotions?

On the third attempt, it was a success. I knew that I couldn’t put it off anymore so I put on my big girl panties and dealt with the situation head on. I pushed all my emotions and feelings to the side until I took that first pill in the office. I even went on a mini shopping spree after hoping that it’d make me feel better. And it did temporarily, but once that second day rolled around and it was time for that second pill I instantly regretted it. I was yet again, an emotional wreck. At 8 weeks and 4 days, I officially began the process of terminating my first pregnancy.

I instantly knew when the fetus was detached from my uterus and made its exit from my body. The pain was unfathomable and something that I’ll never forget. It was so unbearable that I even laid on my bathroom floor and allowed myself to bleed out a little just so I wouldn’t pass out. Not only did I feel it, but I even believe that I saw it in my maxi pad and it literally crushed my whole soul to have to roll it up and dispose of it as normal like it was nothing. I broke down and I cried for weeks over it.

I still break down and cry over it to this very day. To be frank, I don’t think that I’ll ever not cry about it. I don’t think that I’ll ever fully heal and recover from it all. I’ll forever be broken, traumatized, and hurt behind it.