Updated: Jan 4
I had an abortion after my divorce. I slept with just about anyone I could because I felt empty. My daughter was gone to her dads most weekends and I was a “free spirit.” I was on the pill. No idea who the dad was. When I didn’t get my period I freaked the fuck out and took a test. I stared at that test for 24 hours as I laid in bed puking and crying. I called a friend who immediately took action. She knew I barely wanted one child and that I definitely didn’t want to raise another alone, not to mention what it would do to my parents. I went to an abortion clinic in Portland. I had to go in alone because they didn’t allow anyone else. This was before cell phones were used widely so my poor friend had to wait for me. I hated the procedure- not because of any guilt about aborting cells from my body but because I felt violated. They were kind and soft spoken but the procedure itself just felt yucky. I never cried over that “baby” because it would have ruined my chances of giving the child I wanted, my daughter today, a life she deserved. I was a poor teacher who couldn’t get her own shit together. I have never told ANYONE about this. I know I should speak out but my daughter is older now and I don’t want to open up old wounds that may change her opinion on me— Not the abortion but the fact I slept around.