WOMEN'S FRONTLINE MAGAZINE ISSUE ISSUE NR 11 | Page 31

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I was living in an unfamiliar city, completely estranged from my family and was being manipulated and controlled by a man who I was quickly learning was an alcoholic/drug addict

Magazine/April, 2013 3

My mind was sick, my own thoughts were skewed and they were not my own…it had been that way for some time and would continue to escalate. Once I knew what I had to do, I literally became a robot. It was like the switch turned off in my head and even in my heart.

I don’t remember feeling anything as I called the numbers in the phone book asking questions and making an appointment. I had become numb in an instant somehow….I guess subconsciously, I knew if I was going to get through this, it was what I had to do. I never looked back, never argued, and never stood up for what I wanted or knew was right, never fought for my son’s life…. I just allowed him to slip out of my womb without ever touching his skin.

At the clinic for my “consultation”, I was never told of the affects it would have on me emotionally, spiritually or physically. I was never given the opportunity to see an ultrasound or hear his heartbeat. I was never given any options such as adoption or made aware of any help that was available. Instead, what I was told was that I was nearly 18 wks along and I needed to go ahead and "do this" before it was too late. I honestly do not remember how many days were in between that appointment and the actual day I aborted my son in April of 1996 although, I assume it was only a few. I do however remember the cost being more than we expected because I was so far along that we had pawn a few pieces of jewelry just to gather the money. Wow….looking back now, my stomach twists into knots that only the Lord can undo because my first child, my son’s worth was diminished to a simple transaction at the pawn shop.

No matter how much I‘ve tried, I don't remember much of being at the clinic that day. But what I do is sounds and images that will forever be branded into my mind, my ears, my eyes and my heart. It was routine for them, I was just another name on a chart, another young girl to lie to saying, "It will all be over soon and you will be fine to go on with your life!" One more girl lying on a cot in a room lined with others doing the same while they offered me cookies and juice…I had just had my child ripped from my womb and they offered me cookies and juice!

ONCE AGAIN, MY OWN FEELINGS, PAIN,

NEEDS AND PAIN WERE PUSHED ASIDE FOR THE PRIOIRTY OF OTHERS

Again, I don’t know how long I was in recovery before I was sent on my way to get on with my life, as if nothing had happened….they weren’t alone, as this is also what my boyfriend thought I should do. After 3 days of missing work because of physical pain and depression that had already set in, his exact words to me were "You really need to get over it already!" Once again, my own feelings, pain, needs were pushed aside for the priority of others. So, on the outside getting over it was exactly what I did, going into instant denial and pushing it so far down I thought it was just a nightmare, not reality. So much so that over the years, I literally questioned myself asking…..did I really do that? And at times, the answer was no…actually believing that I really didn’t. Yet inside, no matter the depth of denial…I would never be the same because along with my baby, a part of me died that day.

by Misty Black

WOMEN'S FRONTLINE MAGAZINE

www.womensfrontlinemagazine.org

I was living in an unfamiliar city, completely estranged from my family and was being manipulated and controlled by a man who I was quickly learning was an alcoholic/drug addict

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