Another ringing endorsement

Amber blogs about her abortion

The counselor sat me down in a chair and was very straightforward the whole time. I’m sure everything she asked was required, because she did it with no emotion whatsoever.
“Now you understand that taking these pills will cause an abortion and this is the decision you’ve decided to make?”
She had such a monotone voice, no sympathy, not even in her face.

Considering what this counselor knows Amber is in for, she probably can't afford to have any feelings whatsoever. If she connected on any level with these patients she'd probably slit her wrists at the end of the work day.

When my name was called again, I was led to a room in the back of the hallway known as the “Recovery Room”. It’s a little weird for a recovery room. There aren’t any beds; instead they have these really comfortable leather recliners. I mean, they are comfortable, and they recline to about the length of a twin-sized bed. These are probably the only good things about this room. In the far corner, there were 4 of these recliners with women lying on them. Curtains were drawn around each one, and I could only see their feet hanging out. They were all shaking, crying, and moaning. I wanted to walk up to one and hold her hand and ask her how she was feeling, and if there was anything I could do. It was so awful to sit there and hear all of it.

So much for the assertions I've often encountered about how giddy with joy women are after their abortions. Not to mention the alleged warmth of abortion staff. These women were left alone to deal with their anguish, with nobody there to give a damn about them but poor Amber, who wanted to reach out but didn't know how.

So, not knowing what to do, Amber left those women to their individual agonies, took her "abortion to go kit", went home, and followed the instructions.

It felt like someone was stabbing me in the stomach over and over again. And at that moment, I really did want someone to do that.

And, as we'll see later, Amber didn't get a full dose into her system. Imagine how much she'd have been hurting had she managed to get the full dose.

When I stood up I felt dizzy. I grabbed the door to balance myself, and my vision began to blur and go black around the tips of my eyes. I began to freak out, thinking something was seriously wrong and that I would have to go to the hospital and tell my parents and everything was just all down hill from there. I got to my room, and literally fell on my bed. I had broken out into a cold sweat, but by 5 minutes, the dizziness and sweat had subsided, and I passed out again.

So much for the idea that abortion is quick and painless.

He explained that since I had thrown up some of the medication, it most likely caused the procedure to not work as it should have. At this point, I was pretty much freaking out. I KNEW what the next step was, and that was surgery. ACTUAL surgery. The vacuum surgery. I asked him what the sound I heard coming from the ultra-sound was, and he said it was the heartbeat. I began to cry.
He went on to explain that although the child was still living, there was an extreme possibility of deformity, and that surgery was my best option. My appointment was set up for the following Monday.

I'm not sure if Amber was crying because she had to undergo surgery, because the heartbeat made her baby real to her and that was hard to cope with, because all of this was scary and dragging on what must have seemed forever, or for any mix of those reasons and then some. I don't think Amber really knows. She seems pretty much overwhelmed. And I haven't read any sign that she got any help at all sorting out her emotions aside from what she Googled on her own.

I wanted everything to be over. I was tired of coming to Planned Parenthood, and reliving that first day. I wanted it all to end.
When it was over, they wheeled me into the recovery room, and I lay just like those 4 women I saw on the first day, with my feet hanging out, and shaking all over.
I was sore over the next few days, and felt miserable not just about that situation, but about everything else going on in my life too. I sat down and opened up a google webpage, this time I googled “ways to commit suicide.”
I prayed. I got on my knees and said, “God, take my life, or please show me your will. I do not want to live any longer.” Everyday after that, I began to pray for God to remove me of that pain, and from all the insanity going on in my life at the time.

Imagine you're the counselor. You know this is what the future holds for your patient. How do you get through your day? Your week? How do you sleep nights?

What do you tell yourself to keep you getting up in the morning and going in for one day after another of processing women through this ordeal?

And supposedly the prolifers are the anti-woman monsters -- for thinking women deserve better.

HT: JJ

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Yet another ringing endorsement

'The right choice' leads to a 'fountain of pain':

The feminist in me shrinks away from talking about the pain of that loss. Even though my heart believes I sent it back so it could return at a better time, there’s fountain of pain and a kind of aloneness I had never experienced that seems to gush interminably.

....

I dream about the baby, the one with no name. In the dreams, I am overwhelmed with trying to find someone to help me care for it, of hearing it call the babysitter “mama” because its mother can never be there. When this happens, I feel like I made the right choice for myself and the children that will come. But I still grieve.

She also speaks of the physical nightmare that was the abortion itself.

Is it just me, or is there a sort of "misery loves company" aspect to the prochoice movement? This is far from the first heartsick cry from a woman totally wrecked by an abortion, awash in a sea of anguish and regret -- but still insisting it was "the right choice" and one she wants other women to have the chance to experience firsthand.

What other human act can so totally blow up in so many people's faces, cause them so much heartbreak and grief, and still be promoted as palliative?

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Ringing endorsements

What WE think of abortion - by the women who had them...

Sarah Giles expresses regret:

I had a general anaesthetic, but when I came round I was lying on a recliner chair surrounded by the other girls in the waiting room, many of them sobbing hysterically. It was like a scene from hell. There was pop music blasting out from the office, and the staff were chatting loudly, ignoring us. All I could think was: "Get me out of here."

Jenny Wltson says she has no regrets. But if she doesn't feel at all guilty, why does she have to justify it to herself two years later?

n my mind, it was not a proper baby yet so I didn't feel like I was killing something. Now, when I hear how babies can have a heartbeat at six weeks, it does upset me.

The procedure was done under general anaesthetic so I didn't feel a thing. I don't feel guilty, and I justify it by saying to myself that I only have one life and I can't give up my own happiness and dreams for the sake of a baby.

Sarah Fry expresses regrets:

No obstacles were put in my way, and the whole process was so incredibly quick and smooth that I never really had the chance to think if it was something I really wanted to go through with.

Varria Russellwhite expresses regrets:

I was given a pill and then a pessary the following day, which induced a miscarriage. I was not prepared for what followed. After eight hours I gave birth to a small but fully formed baby.

As I watched the nurse carry it away in a pool of blood, I felt so hollow at the waste of a life. I could clean the mess off me, but couldn't wash the guilt from my mind.

Sue Hulbert expresses regrets:

As the nurse explained how they would put me under anaesthetic while they sucked the baby out, I was shaking.

Seeing how distressed I was, she told me: "I'm going to give you an hour to have a think about whether you really want this."

I cried non-stop for that hour but I couldn't find the words to say no, so I went through with it.

When I came to, I felt devastated about what I had done and immediately regretted it. I went home with this aching, empty feeling.

....

One night, I wrote letters to my family and friends and took an overdose of antidepressants. But it wasn't enough - and the next day I was woken by the phone. It was Alan, who realised I could barely speak and called an ambulance.

With counselling,things gradually got better. Not a day goes by, though, when I don't regret my abortion.

HT: Dawn Eden