“It’s not really an appropriate time to ever bring it up. No one really wants to talk about it. I remember walking in. Fluorescent lights. People sitting with their own stories; their own reasons why they got here. I made up stories about them. How they got here in the same waiting room as me. It got my mind off of my own story. I filled out some papers and waited. Waited with racing thoughts; eager to feel the comfort of knowing I was doing the right thing. That wouldn’t come right away. They called my name. They drew my blood to get my blood type. I’m A negative. This girl took me to this small room. It was cold. No one could come in with me. It’s against the law or something. No one was with me anyway so that didn’t really matter, I guess. ‘You’re anywhere from 4-6 weeks’ she said. ‘Very early.’ I knew I had been pregnant weeks before she said that. Everything had already felt different. Not noticeably different, just this feeling-inside different.

I took the pill from the nurse. I accepted her offering trembling. You know when you’re shaking but no one else can really tell until you hold something. I’ve always wondered what story she told herself about me. I remember looking to her for approval of my decision; a woman I had just met five minutes earlier. She said it wouldn’t be invasive; I felt every part of it leaving my body. Shame. Shame is the loudest thing I remember. And loss. I just closed my eyes, and the only comfort was knowing that time would make this moment feel really far away. And it has.” 

Shared: Anonymously

Transcribed by: Julia Michael

Valeria Alvarez