Plan C

Topics of abortion laws are in the news yet again! A leaked draft from the Supreme Court sharing information about the possible overturn of Roe v. Wade has hit the streets and people are in an uproar. The fact that this is even a discussion is wild but alas, I am not surprised. It’s almost like the government sits in their offices all day and try to devise ways to make the general population suffer. Ha! What a shit show! Sometimes I cannot believe I am part of this crazy, human made mess of a society. 

The internet is just a circus of people blurting out their opinions and feelings about how the government should handle a woman’s unwanted pregnancy. It’s entirely exhausting. Whether the topic is abortions, gun laws, war or politics, I feel numb to it all. Sometimes I feel like I am not even a part of this chaotic reality. Like I’m just a spectator standing on neutral grounds, waiting for this shit to crumble.

Abortions aren’t fun. We all know that. It’s not like women wake up one day like, “ya know what, I’d love to kill a fetus some day”. No one expects to be in a situation where they have to make that decision. For most of my menstruating years, which is only about 11, I’ve always prided myself on not getting pregnant. It was like a badge of honor to make it out of high school and college without a little “accident”. And that is only because of what I saw around me. Many young mothers from all walks of life. Some single, some stable, some not. I even witnessed girls in my high school pop out babies all the time. Some came back to school. Some did not.

I once had a pregnancy scare in 11th grade. I knew I was rolling dice by not taking birth control and had every intention on getting some but as a 16 year old on my parent’s healthcare, I needed to have that awkward conversation before setting the appointment. When I told my mom in very few words that I was ready for an OBGYN visit she nodded but never followed up. Months later my period was late. This was long before I began tracking my cycle. And even longer before I actually understood the menstrual cycle phases fully. I waited a few days, stressed to the max that I was pregnant, when finally I took myself to Planned Parenthood for a test. I tested negative, was put on birth control and the next day, my period came. My boyfriend and I were both relieved of course. We continued to have unprotected sex while I took birth control pills as smart teenagers do.

Between the age of 16 and now, I went on and off BC 3 times. I experienced a few side effects but nothing major like most of the women I know. I always stuck to the pills because it was easier for me. The thought of any implantations was just too invasive and women in my life that did have IUDs were miserable. 

Eventually, I was able to retain and utilize the information I learned in my anatomy and health classes and started keeping track of my fertile window every month. I knew that I was fertile x amount of days after a period for a certain length of time and I would plan my sexual activity around that. Having this basic knowledge helped me gain my power back over my body and provided me enough confidence to stay off of birth control for 6 years.

I wore my badge of honor, the “no baby badge”, for 10 years and then BOOM! I got pregnant. What an experience. While backpacking in Australia, I met a guy. We had PROTECTED sex. Condom broke. Shit happens. In the past, I’d take my happy ass down to the pharmacy to get a Plan B pill but in this circumstance I did not. The next morning I was boarding a flight to Townsville, Australia where I spent a week and a half exploring. The broken condom had slipped my mind so the search for Plan B did not happen. I was booked and busy. I had snorkeling trips and rainforest excursions to go on. From there, I flew to Bali, Indonesia. On my flight out of Australia, I thought about that night with the broken condom. Nerves rushed my body as I counted back on my calendar when my last period was. Fuck, why didn’t I get Plan B when I got to Townsville? I was cutting it close with my fertility window but there was nothing I could do, it had been well over a week since the sex. 

I arrived in Bali, yearning to explore. I planned a loose itinerary. I was going to spend some time in Indonesia, head over to Malaysia and Singapore and eventually fly back to NJ from Thailand. I spent the previous 12 months backpacking through New Zealand and Australia and had my mind set on making it to Southeast Asia before heading back to the United States. I listened, for months, to fellow travelers talk about their adventures in SEA and worked hard in Australia to afford to make it happen. Bali was spectacular but something was definitely amiss. I was exhausted. Anxiety ate away at my gut, making me question myself. I attributed that to the stress and chaos of being in Asia. It was my first time out of the Western world, maybe I was just overwhelmed. Besides, I had been traveling for an entire year on my own. I spent 2 weeks in Bali making my way from Kuta to Seminyak. From there I went to Gili T island and by the time I got to Uluwatu, ya girl was all fucked up. I was becoming easily irritated and very easily nauseated. The hot smells of petrol, food, sewage and sea were all around me making me sick to my stomach. 

I was beginning to feel defeated. With flights and hostels already booked in Jakarta, Indonesia and beyond for the next 4 weeks, I felt like I had to continue my journey. But instead, I flew back to Melbourne to regroup. I went back to the friends I had just cried and said goodbye with. They welcomed me back in their home while I re-evaluated the second half of my Asia trip. I wasn’t giving up. I booked a yoga/reiki retreat on Krabi Island in Thailand, thinking this would ease my soul before flying back to the US. I spent 10 days in Melbourne and on one of the last days, I took a pregnancy test. My period was late and I felt completely off. 

Positive. It literally said it in blue writing. I shook it like a polaroid hoping it would change the words in the window. I examined it, dipped it in more pee and even took another test. This can’t be right! Positive? I couldn’t believe it. I mean I could because just a few weeks ago, my sex partner’s condom broke but what the fuck? That badge that I wore was set ablaze. I was no longer able to check ‘never been pregnant’ on a health form again. On one hand I was relieved. Finally having an answer to my discomfort, I felt like I could breathe. I knew there was nothing I could do about it in Melbourne because of how early along I was so I carried on to my awaiting retreat in Thailand

After a one flight, a long ass bus ride and two treacherous, rainy boat rides through the Strait of Malacca…and a van ride up the mountain side…I made it to my yoga retreat. And to my surprise, the retreat was nothing like described in the email. The woman was a scammer for sure. There was no food on site and no one told me to bring groceries. The facilities were uncomfortable. Usually I can hang but in my state, I couldn’t do it. I spent the first night in my bungalow hungry and weary from travel. An emotional mess, I was weighing my options. As the rain pelted the tin roof above me, I tried to meditate and calm myself down. Fail. Food wouldn’t be available until the morning, there was no wifi in my room to figure out any next steps and all I could think about was the sack of cells swimming around in my uterus.

That next morning, after a 7am yoga class and a fake ass reiki session, (truly, these people were frauds) I asked for a refund. I told the director this was not what I had in mind and that I just discovered I’m pregnant. She returned my money and arranged for me to catch the first van down the mountain. I learned that day that Krabi had an airport and that I did not need to take two boats, an elephant and a fucking pogo stick to get there the day before. 

I flew to Bangkok and stood in the terminal ready to cry. My flight to the US was not until another few weeks but at that moment I decided to wrap it up. With tears in my eyes I went to the airline desk and changed my flight. I spent 24hrs in Bangkok. A city I have since returned to. During those 24hrs I reflected on what a year it had been. I was a recent college grad on a solo adventure around the world. I matured a lot that year and learned so much about myself and people. I saw the world from a different lens doing something that a lot of people will never do. I felt accomplished but also like a failure because I let myself get pregnant.

As soon as I read that positive test, I treated my pregnancy like a medical condition. I made no connection to the cells growing inside of me. I knew from the gate that I would not be keeping it. I don’t even think I told the sperm donor that it happened. Why would I? I knew I’d never see my Melbourne fling again. The decision came with ease, it was just a matter of executing and healing physically from it. When I saw the city skyline as our plane pulled up to NJ, I felt as if the weight was already lifted but I knew the road ahead was going to be rough. I had 10 days to have an abortion and rest because after that, I was headed to Tennessee for a 6 day music festival with my siblings. #doingthemost #whyamilikethis

You get two option these days (for now). I chose the at-home route. The one where you take a pill in the doctor’s office to stop the fetus’ growth then take a pill 24hrs later at home to induce labor. It’ll come out the size of a tennis ball, they told me. And they were right. Once the contractions hit, I dropped to the floor in pain. There I was, fresh off my worldly excursions, holed up in my best friend’s bathroom, bleeding out in her bathtub. The nurses at Planned Parenthood failed to tell me how horrible the pain would be. Keep some Motrin on hand, they told me. A few pads, too. Fuck pads and Motrin! I needed prescription pain killers and a diaper! The initial few hours were the hardest; the contractions, the fainting and pain. But the end result was worth it. I was no longer an incubator for a baby I didn’t want. It was just a miscarriage, women have them more than we know. Totally natural. Only mine was medically induced, so what? Now this doesn’t mean I am careless and view abortions as my go-to birth control. Absolutely not. That shit takes a lot out of you! I bled for 9 weeks straight after my medically induced miscarriage. 9 weeks. An entire summer. Still one of the best summers of my life, I might add. But to me, nine weeks of blood was a better option than the 19+ years of a job I was not ready for.

I thought about what life would have been like if I proceeded with my pregnancy. No doubt, I would have been a single mom. I’m positive my Aussie fling would not have wanted me to keep it. There was no future for us. We were 2 young people living separate lives and traveling the world. Had I continued my pregnancy, I would have struggled. I returned to the US with no job, $3000 to my name, no car and living with my family. Would I have struggled long? Definitely not. I could have spent that summer working, stabilizing my life for a child but I didn’t want to. I wanted to go on Phish tour and hang out with my friends and family. 

Adoption was an option. But that meant I would have had to carry to term and go through the physical and mental changes of pregnancy. I worried that after nine months, I would have wanted to keep the child. I think I would have had a hard time knowing my child was out there somewhere without me. I did not want to experience those feelings. And that’s ok. Most pro-lifers will call me selfish but that’s ok because it’s about me. It’s my life, my uterus and my mental health. That sack of cells that I flushed down my friend’s toilet is not floating around somewhere, mad and abandoned. That sack of cells did not feel pain or mental anguish when I decided to stop its growth. I had to choose between stepping into a role that would change my life forever or flushing a sack of cells and moving on with the life I currently loved.

As I laid in my best friend’s bathtub contracting, I vowed I’d never, ever get myself in this situation again. But the universe had other plans. Like I said, shit happens. Condoms break. Plan B and birth control are not 100% and will let you down. Just when you think you’re doing alright, your birth control will fail and alter the next few months of your life. And that’s ok. Women should not have to step into a life changing role because of a mistake. Women are the gatekeepers of life, let us handle the tough decisions. Forcing women to carry out pregnancies is monstrous. It’s a clear sign that the lawmakers and men in this country view us as less than and have no regard for our lives. They don’t care whether a pregnancy can be dangerous, is a product of rape or that a child left in the system will most likely live a life of trauma and neglect. It’s crazy and I am afraid of what’s to come. You cannot control women any longer. If this law is overturned, shit is going to hit the fan. 

To my readers just know, I am 100% pro choice. I do not believe a fetus is a person and could give a damn about what the Bible says. Women should be in charge of our own bodies. Period.