It wasn’t meant to happen. I was in a foreign country. I was lonely. My friend who I was staying with had sent me off with his friend so he could invite some body around for sex. He’d been cutting me off for alot of the time that I stayed with him. I went out with this friend, we had a few drinks, got back home, and due to space, were to share a bed together. We shared a bottle of vodka between us whilst talking about how crap we both felt, how lonely we both were in different ways, and got very emotional. I don’t remember how it happened, but we ended up having unprotected sex.
I awoke the next morning, panicking. My pants and pyjama bottoms were missing, and I remembered what had happened. I ran over to find my pants and some trousers whilst he lay sleeping, and I got back into bed, filled with worries about what would happen. I knew that there was a 95% chance that I was ovulating after doing the maths relating to my period. I knew that in a short space of time, I would be pregnant. What was I going to do? What would I tell my parents? I would have to give up education, how was I going afford to keep this baby? Where would we live? Also, the soon to be father lived in Poland. Would I move here? As a young Muslim girl, my Family would never accept me. My mother and father would, but the rest of the family wouldn’t.
So lying in that bed, I made a decision. I would get the contraceptive pill. When he woke up, and my friend had come out of his room, I explained what happened to the guy I slept with in whispers. A panicked stricken expression crossed his face. He went out to buy hang over cures because he needed to think. I went out later to buy crisps because I needed to think. We later went out together. On our own. It was my last night in Poland and I wanted to cry. We decided that I would get the contraceptive pill. I couldn’t get it there without having to pay alot, so I decided I would wait till the day after I landed in England.
Flying back to the UK, I felt guilty, confused, scared, worried, ashamed. It was the worst journey of my life. I kept thinking that I wanted this baby, but I couldn’t keep it. I had to take the pill.
So the next morning, New Years Eve, I ran to the local sexual health clinic to get accsess to the morning after pill. I was told it was 50% affective after 54 hours, when I went to get it. I was frightened, but took it anyway. Low and behold, my period came earliyer, and pregnancy tests showed negative.
That’s all, end of the story.
Only it isn’t, is it? I wish I had never taken the pill. I regret it each day. I wake up every night in cold sweats thinking about the child that could have been. I see other peoples children, and yearn for one of my own. Not only that, I yearn for THAT baby. The baby that never was.
I hope others can learn from my mistakes, and not repeat them.
