Today it happened. I decided to end something that would've irrecoverably altered my future. Since then, I keep fading in and out of acceptance -- it's difficult to really believe that I was in surgery this morning. My mind will flash back to it, my mind will try to distract me from it.
How do I feel about it? Well, I feel relieved, shocked, slightly saddened, resolved. Although my decision was made in a desire to keep the status quot, my life will be changing after this. No longer will I wander through the halls of existence waiting for good things to happen, lethargically accepting my life as it comes to me and apathetically whispering good things in the name of a cause. I have to make this sacrifice meaningful. I have to make something of myself that would have been impossible if I had been burdened with a child. I have to make myself into a person that can be at peace with this decision.
The actual experience was by far the worst part. I lay on an operating table, my closest friend sitting a few feet away; the doctor puts on his gloves and slides in the spectrum; from that moment on, excruciating pain. Torture that left me shaking uncontrollably. I couldn't speak -- I reached out my hand to my soul mate and she grabbed it, crying -- staring at the ceiling I willed myself to relax as I felt large needles tearing through my cervix, a suctioning device forcing it's way into my womb. However, throughout it all, the doctor's calm voice anchored me to the ground. "Now, I'm sure you're sad to hear this, but we're all through," he said, gently teasing as he removes the spectrum and wipes me off. A strange paradox: his tender attitude and warm hands, my paralyzing agony. I blanched with relief, trembling as I pulled on padded underwear, stumbled to the recovery room.
It was only then that I cried. She held me as hot tears trickled down my face. For whom was I crying? Myself, the unborn, the pain? Perhaps a combination of the three.
I know I made the right choice because I am penniless, irresponsible, a drunk, a smoker, a college student, a waitress, an idiot who didn't wear a condom in a foursome with strangers. I know that I know beautiful people because a giving soul paid for the procedure, a well-wisher I hold close to my heart risked domestic unrest to be a shoulder to lean on, a doctor old enough to be my grandfather cared about the reproductive freedom of women, and the best friend I've ever had held my hand.
This sacrifice was not made in vain. I understand the world now better than I had before. I've seen the ugly face of consequences and embraced the scariest thing I've ever known in my entire life. This will not be an event that passes by unnoticed. I will remember the pain, the questions, the trauma, the protesters, the truth of my life: I am strong and I will be the master of my body.
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