Unplanned Pregnancy 101

At the beginning of my pregnancy, I didn’t struggle with what to do. I made an appointment at the nearest “family planning” clinic and went in. They performed what was probably my fifth pregnancy test, and confirmed a positive result. I made an appointment for “termination” several days from that date. In between the time I made that appointment and the next, I started bleeding for an unexplained reason. Instinctively, I called my OB/GYN’s office, the one I had been seeing for about eight years, and told her I was pregnant and bleeding. I was secretly hoping and believing that the responsibility of terminating the pregnancy was being removed from my shoulders. I was traveling on business when my OB/GYN returned my call and told me to come into the office when I returned to town that Friday. She cautioned that if the bleeding became excessive and couldn’t be controlled with OTC “menstrual” products, or if cramping developed, I should go to emergency immediately. Even though I did develop cramping and the interpretation of “controlled bleeding” was questionable, today I can admit, I was hoping for a mis-carriage. When my doctor examined me, she wrote something on a slip of paper I couldn’t read and told me to go across the street to Brotman Hospital. Everyone there treated me like a woman who was glad to be pregnant, with no knowledge of my internal conflict. Everyone at the hospital was compassionate and kind. They went about having me change my clothes and directed me to a room. The apparent hustle and rustle that followed was a blue compared to to the moment a woman who I NOW know was a special “vaginal ultrasound technician” (I had never heard of this kind of ultrasound before) pulled back a curtain, pointed to what looked like a bean, on what looked like a black and white monitor, and she said “see right there, that’s your baby, and there is the heartbeat”. Nothing about this pregnancy was the same after that. It happened so fast and was so unexpected that before I had the chance to say much of anything, what minutes ago, was a huge problem was now “my baby”, with a heartbeat, with life, and I had (and still have) reverence for life. I don’t step on a bug if I can instead put it outside. The few days between that day and the abortion appointment was a blur, I arrived for my appointment and looked around. Everyone there was either obviously very young, or appeared to be underprivileged. I felt ashamed and out of place sitting there and I kept replaying “that’s your baby, and that’s the heartbeat” in my mind. Unable to quiet my internal noise, I walked up to reception and rescheduled my appointment for a week later claiming that my ride home couldn’t make it. I was rescheduled with a caution from reception that the window for terminating a pregnancy was finite. I arrived for the next appointment, but left without saying anything to anyone and without rescheduling. This time, I hadn’t even arranged for a ride home, in the back of my mind, all I could hear was “that is your baby, and that it’s heartbeat” again, I considered that I could tell Rodney that the pregnancy had been terminated and make a disappearing act. Again, I decided it wouldn’t be fair.