When you’ve been with someone over 4 years, you probably would have talked about love, marriage and having babies. My boyfriend and I had gone down this path. Sex wasn’t something we frowned upon though we are Catholics that go to church every Sunday, pray the rosary and try to live a sin free life. He always said that our only sin was sex and maybe God understands.

At the start of the year, I had the flu (or so I thought). Like most people, I didn’t go to my GP. I self medicated.  By Valentine’s Day, I knew there was definitely something wrong. We spent our Valentine’s Day in a walk in centre in Bolton. The first thing the GP asked me was “when last did you have your period?” My heart sank. I knew I was pregnant. At this point, my boyfriend was visibly shaken, probably worse than I was because immediately I thought I was pregnant, I had already made up my mind that I wasn’t keeping it.

Flash back to 2 years ago. I had this abortion conversation with my friends and swore with every living cell in my body that I’d never do it. “Over my dead body!” I said… but look how quickly I made the decision once I was in the situation. The GP ran the necessary tests and yes, I was pregnant. Everything else she said was a blur. My boyfriend kept consoling me. He said we’d have the baby and get married later. I was 24, he was 25. We were probably at the right age. Was it the right time? The right circumstance (pregnant before marriage)?  No. I knew my mom would kill me. I quietly rang my GP and made the appointment.

On the appointed date, I woke up early, my boyfriend and I said a prayer, he rang a taxi and we went to the clinic. It was the worst day of my life. They didn’t let my boyfriend in. I was alone. He had to sit in the waiting area for the next 5-6hrs. I filled out paperwork concurring that I was in the right state of mind to kill my unborn baby and had a scan to show that the unborn baby was growing healthily.  The nurse took a sample of my blood and kept asking if I was sure I wanted to do it. I had to see a therapist who explained the series of emotions I might go through after the abortion. I got stripped down to my panties and then they gave me a hospital dress and wheeled me into the theatre. This was the first time I cried. I swear I wasn’t emotional; I was just numb so I don’t understand where the tears came from. I kept asking if I could see my boyfriend, they said no. I prayed again, told God I was sorry but needed him to understand.

Once I was in the theatre, the doctors smiled and told me to stop crying. They’d seen my type so many times. At this point, I was being injected with anaesthetics. I was saying the Hail Mary…and woke up 15mins later in a recovery room, my clothes next to the bed along with a note explaining I might be dizzy but to put on my clothes when I felt ok. A nurse came in later and gave me a glass of orange juice and some biscuits. I dressed up as fast as I could and made my way down to the waiting room. He was there, waiting. He called a taxi, we went back home and both cried for the next hour. We had nothing to say so we cried. He promised to be with me forever, which I know is true but it can never erase what happened. Right now, we live with the guilt that we’ve done something so terrible.   

Apart from the sinful aspect, it is a very scary process. I was shaken and there was nobody to hold my hand or whatever. I kept wondering “what if I die, what will I tell God? Will he forgive me? Can I still go to heaven?”

The whole thing messes with your mind.

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This a non-fictional account of Adiva’s (real name withheld) experience and I would like to thank her for having the courage to share her story with me and the rest of the world. I am beyond honoured my friend.

If you have an experience you would like to share, please email your story to me @ wailacaan@gmail.com and be assured that your identity will be withheld.

xxx

Waila