I’m writing this for my own closure.
I found this site before I aborted my baby. I read a couple of things on here, but I didn’t want to read a lot. I knew what I had to do and it was to get rid of this baby in my stomach. I was in denial for so long. I didn’t want to believe I was pregnant. I always had this small feeling in my head that hell, I could never get pregnant. My boyfriend and I have been dating for almost a year, we never had protected sex. I was on birth control for a couple of months but stopped for a really dumb reason. I never had a ride to go up to Planned Parenthood to refill my BC. My last period was November 6th. When December came rolling around and I still had no period, I started to go out of control. I thought maybe the more pills I ate, the more alcohol I consumed, the less likely I would be pregnant. I was immature. I don’t know why I thought I could just kill something that was meant to be growing inside me. My boyfriend and I both knew I was pregnant. We talked about it sometimes, but it was never a major concern. Until the beginning of January. I stopped drinking on December 30th. I started to feel love for this child. I started eating healthy and stopped smoking. I was constantly researching about FAS, it was constantly crossing my mind what a beautiful baby we could have had. But I messed up. I poisoned the most precious thing ever given to me. I did not believe in God until this baby started affecting me. The first 3 months of being pregnant are the most important, and those were the months I did the most damage. I did drugs, I drank. I ate barely enough to support my own body, let alone a growing baby. I started staying in my house, hating myself more and more every day. I’ve always self-injured, but it started to spiral out of control. I would hurt myself. I wanted to keep this baby, but it wouldn’t have been healthy. I know if I had stepped up and taken responsibility for this child, my boyfriend and I would be happily planning for our baby to come into this world.
Now all I do is write notes to my little baby. I believe she was a girl, you know, motherly instinct. I pray for her night after night. I cry every day, wishing that a healthy baby was still in my belly. When I do have kids, I wish they would be half as wonderful as my little girl would have been.
I got back from my boyfriend’s yesterday after staying there the weekend and over Valentines Day. He lives pretty far away now, so it’s every couple of weeks I see him. In many ways, I had the best ‘holiday’ ever.
I was excited and happy to go and see him, but ecstatic about spending time with his 9-week-old baby sister. I had a wonderful long weekend and he really treated me – we went out for a few drinks Friday night after I got there, then on Saturday, had an early Pancake Day and went out for a meal at a Thai restaurant which was beautiful and delicious, then got rather ‘tipsy’ that night with his mum! And then went to the cinema and a quick bite on Sunday. What we did together was wonderful. It was nice to know we still have a strong bond after everything we’ve been through, and everything we’ve put each other through.
Yet on Saturday night, I started crying with my boyfriend – being around his sister and taking care of her was overwhelming. I knew what a great mummy I would have been… So his mum came in and explained that I needed to stop blaming him. She has had 2 abortions, so in a way she understood, yet her circumstances were different. I felt like we weren’t the same, and each person is different in that some people feel regret and some relief. I feel like I’m being pushed to get over something I’m not over yet.
Anyway, his little sister. Oh my goodness. She had grown so much since I last saw her, and what was better was that his mum said I had a free pass to pick her up if I liked and to look after her. It was nice that she was around a lot more than last time, where they pretty much stayed in the bedroom. During the weekend, I got lots of cuddles, I fed her, and I looked after her all on my own, making her smile… Making me smile inside and out. I’m so desperate. I shouldn’t be, but I feel like I’m missing out now. I feel like I’ve let go of this beautiful thing that could have been mine… This perfect thing that I saw on that screen yet was still persuaded to lose. He always says how his mum often seems to get stressed and can’t cope, yet I feel like, even though I realize it would be stressful, I’d be so grateful to have what she has. She’s tiny, she’s something that was made out of love. And she’s perfect… And I need that.
At one point a few weeks ago, I’d BEGGED him to try again, to make it real this time and to plan it. He says we’re not ready. In many ways, we’re not, and I’m not writing this to get young mums to respond that it is a big commitment – I understand that! But I think I have more reason than any young, underage girl who simply wants a baby because it’s ‘cute’. I’ve seen my child on a screen, I’ve seen my child come out of me on my sanitary towel. I’ve buried my child. Nothing can replace it, I know that. But there’s something that can make up for the loss I feel and the unhappiness I’m experiencing, where nothing else can console.
I was on the pill but kinda got knocked up.
I don’t know who the dad is cos I’ve been sleeping with two guys. I told them both and they both want me to get rid of it. I’ve already lost one before when I was with my boyfriend. He didn’t want it but I wouldn’t get rid of it so he hit me when I was three months along. That was over a year ago and I never stopped thinking about it. I don’t want a kid. I have two years of study to do and I’ve had to quit one job already but I can’t just get rid of it cos it was a mistake.
It’s just not fair to do. Arghhhhhh!
I wrote this one a little while after I lost my daughter to a m/c
R.I.P N.T.V
Cradled in the first room of life
I am your protector
before you awaken into this world I will nurture you and keep you warm within the blankets of my flesh and blood.
You are mine…
You were created in love
I am your maker
before life tries to break your innocent spirit I will be the one who will guide you and
set you in the path of the straight and narrow.
You are mine…
But even I cannot challenge nature;
when your cradle becomes your tomb and your lifeline guides you to your death
as the Umbilical Noose
wrings the life from your tiny body.
You were mine…
I recently unpacked some boxes that I had stored away in my closet and came across a poetry book that I owned in high school… Well, I still own it, but you know what I mean… Anyway, it’s by a woman called Ingrid Jonker and it’s written in my native language (Afrikaans) so I do apologize if you don’t understand it (will translate for those who care)… It just sums me up so perfectly sometimes…
Tragic Ek is die lappop wat nie praat
En maak net op jou liefde staat
Saans le ek blind en stil en doof
En lug nie meer my semel hoof
My hande roer nie en my lyf Word met jou weg gaan koud en styf
Sonder jou hulp kan ek nie loop Jy het my sommer so gekoop
en sal my nog een Guy-Fawkes nag Goedmoeds verbrand en daaroor lag
Ek is die lappop sonder gees
my pyn jou luid gevierde fees….
It’s still as beautiful as it was to me about five years ago, maybe not as relevant, but it just sums up a really dark phase of my life. Love it.
Hello, I am 18 years old. I have a five-month-old son Gabriel and he is absolutely perfect. Well, I am going to share with you my story… My journey to motherhood.
January 18th- This was the day that I found out I was pregnant. I took a pregnancy test after coming home from my boyfriend’s house. I was in my room waiting for the result and thinking that I wasted 14 dollars on this test because there was NOOO way I could be pregnant. Well, I was wrong….and very surprised. A whole mess of emotions swirled through me…Shock, Fear, Anger, Disappointment, Sadness. At the time, I was not happy about it at all. How could this happen? I was an honor student in my senior year of high school.
I was supposed to be partying and graduating and just enjoying being young….not be PREGNANT….
