For so long, I have thought about what I would say to you if you were somewhere where you could listen and hear me and speak back. Would you be angry to hear my reasoning? Or would you understand? This is an open letter to the child I decided not to have.
Dear baby boy or girl,
I was 22 years old when I found out I was pregnant. I had taken 100 pregnancy tests from the time I was 17 and always saw a negative response on the stick and breathed huge sighs of relief. This time, I thought it would probably be no different until it was. Two pink lines stared at me from my bathroom counter, one strong, the other so faint I thought maybe it really is negative. When I got the blood work done from my doctor and she confirmed what I already knew, that I was pregnant, I am surprised to say, I didn’t feel anything, not a shock, not scared, not happy, not stressed, not anything. I already knew what I was going to do before I got the results. I wasn’t going to keep you.
My Relationship Wasn’t Healthy
My relationship with your father was horrible. We were doing drugs, having sex, a lot of it, and fighting all the time. I was with him because I was bored and trying to get off an ex of 5 years, and he was with me because it’s better than being alone right? We were in no position to have a child. The life I wanted for myself flashed before my eyes and it didn’t include a child with a man who had a criminal record.
I Had No Money And No Job
I was living at home with my parents and had no job or money. I was using your dad’s money which he made from selling drugs and my days were spent at his house drinking, snorting or fighting. I knew getting a job would be easy enough and all I had to do was say I was going to move in with your father, and we could start planning for the family we were starting to create. But, I didn’t want that. I was only 22, still young, still so much to do. Having a child meant I would be stuck in that small town where nothing happens and no one ever does anything with their life. My dreams of going back to college and living in a city far away from here would be ruined, and I would become just like everyone else I went to school with, a mother, in a bad relationship, working the system, and miserable.
I Was Terrified To Tell My Parents
Even though my situation was horrible, the biggest thing I was terrified of doing was telling my parents. I didn’t want their disappointment in me to deepen and I didn’t want to put any more stress on them. I knew they would be supportive and would try to persuade me to keep it, but I wouldn’t be able to do it, and they did not agree with the option I was seeking. I needed to do this without them knowing. Time was running out and I didn’t want to start showing or have people ask questions so my decision had to be put in action right away.
I Did Care And Wonder About The Life We Could Have
When I went to get my ultrasound to find out how far along I really was, I couldn’t look at the screen. It didn’t feel right to look at you when I was going to do what I was going to do. But I wondered. Whether you were a boy or a girl, who would you look like, what would your personality be, how our lives together would be and I still know I needed to do what I was going to do. But I still thought about you and hoped it wouldn’t hurt you.
The Few Weeks Before My Appointment
I spent two or three weeks before the procedure still living my life. I didn’t feel any different about what was going on or what was going to happen. The morning sickness, nausea and all these things I heard people feel when they become pregnant, were not happening for me. It was almost easy to forget for me, what I was about to do. Every time I would look at your father, I would want to open my mouth and tell him, that I and he had made a baby, but I didn’t say a word. He would have wanted me to have you, he wanted a kid, he wanted a family and I knew he would try to talk me out of it, make me feel so bad, and make my life a living hell if I went against what he wants. I needed to make this decision without him because we were never ever going to come to an agreement about this.
The Morning Of
My best friend in the whole world, who you would have loved and adored just as much as I do, picked me up at 5 in the morning. We drove 2 hours into the city to get to the hospital that did these procedures. We didn’t talk much, didn’t know what to say. I was completely selfish and only thinking of myself and how this was good for me, that I still had a life to live. I just wanted to get it over with so I could go about my life, and I swore I would use birth control from then on. She had to drop me off at the back in a hidden doorway because doing this was still so controversial they didn’t advertise that they did this here. I was surprised at how many other girls, a lot around my age, who was sitting there waiting their turn to do what I was so sure about. I remember them handing me some kind of pill to take to relax me, but I think because I was already so relaxed and calm about it before I did it, that the pill had no effect on me. I sat there, with you in my stomach, counting down the seconds until you would be taken, gone, your light faded. Looking back on it now, I should have been sad, crying, shaken up a bit, or guilty at least, but I felt nothing. When all the other people sitting there were visibly upset, I sat there emotionless.
It Was Over In Minutes
Afterward, I sit in the recovery room, feeling no different than I did before. I didn’t feel lighter, or heavier, I just felt relief that I had done it before it was too late and before anyone else found out. The nurses gave me pamphlets to take home, and numbers for hotlines to call if the guilt became too much, and I don’t even think I ended up taking them, I think I left them in the office. By the time my friend dropped me off back at my house, it was like nothing had ever happened.
That was 4 years ago, and I think about you a lot. You would be talking now, running, walking, in preschool, you would be close with your cousin that was 1 when I got pregnant with you. I wonder if you were a boy, girl, tomboy, girly girl, what your voice would be like. What kind of mom I would be, what your dad would have been like. I wonder if we would still be together, where I lived, what my job would be. But mostly, I wonder if I am an evil person for taking away your life before you had a chance to live it. Am I evil for not exploring other options that would have gave you a chance to live your life, am I a coward for doing what I did because I was scared and selfish?
Moving Forward
I try not to feel like a bad person, I try to feel like what I chose to do is OK because it’s my body and my life, but I struggle. I look at my niece who looks so much like me and my heart bursts with how much I love her. I think about how incomplete my life would be without her. I wish this all had happened at a better time, that I had been more stable in my life, in a better relationship, then maybe, it could have worked. But, there is almost never a good time for a pregnancy to happen, it does and you have to choose to do what you think is right at that current time. You will always be in my mind, the child I chose not to have, and I hope, wherever you may be, there is such a thing as forgiveness.
