Me really wah fight people how everything that is not supposed to be their business… but is their business.
I’ve had more than one abortion. Not 27…or a 12 or even 5. But more than one. I think 3. One I knowingly had to do at that “16 young and dumb” period in life. Another when the Dr. who did the “16 young and dumb” abortion, botched it and I nearly passed out realizing I was still there pregnant after paying for an abortion weeks before and my last abortion was in my twenties.
Lemme precede this with some information. I don’t know about anyone else, but we’ve been made to think that we’re so horrible for having an abortion, whether for medical reasons or otherwise; that we literally think there is a shitpile of bad luck waiting out there for us. I feel that way. I felt that way for a long time. You know when ppl buck them toe them normally say the devil…like I immediately would think that it’s because “mi dash weh a belly”…bellies? Is it the same belly…I deven know.
So my next abortion now. Hear how mi salt nuh bloodclaat!! My period does not miss and mi very fertile. I started worrying if I was pregnant. I had terrible cramps. And couldn’t go to the bathroom normally. I either had the runs or I was constipated. At the time my partner and I (together for years and my child’s father, had just parted ways. Amicably).
How can I have a baby for someone who doesn’t want to be in a traditional family situation anymore… I thought (if I was indeed pregnant and not just someone with a stomach virus). Thinking that I could be pregnant but hoping I wasn’t. I literally was undecided but I was really saying that I could have the baby. Because its not like I didn’t know who I was pregnant by or anything like that. I finally decide to go to the doctor just to see what’s going on. Long story fucking short…the Dr. squeezed the cold jelly on my belly and start running the thingy around looking for the baby. Looking for the baby…. looking for baby….guess wah?! No bloodclaat baby nuh inna me uterus! But mi have a a positive pregnancy test. Immediately me start feel like me ago be one a them eedyat headline deh inna Star “ Duppy Baby Grows Inside Woman”
You know by this time me really lay down inna da radiology office deh a wonder if me did tek somebody man, or make dem lose dem work or stop somebody from a get a promotion. Some rass ting. Cause this cya real. In a nutshell, the radiologist was so baffled by the whole thing that he called his intern to explain. (I’m now the centerpiece at the Medical Oddities Affair). The baby was growing outside of my reproductive zone. Completely. Not in my tubes either like a normal ectopic pregnancy. U see that… a normal ectopic pregnancy. Ectopic pregnancies are not normal. But the degree of oddity taking place in my body made it seem like that. A good size baby too.
His options: Abort it or die. I went through that whole ordeal alone. I made an impromptu will (not like me did have nutn fi will at the time) and instructions to take my child to his father. I drove to the hospital and parked my car. I checked myself in. Told my parents I had a business event. The stakes were high. High. As. Bloodclaat. I could die on the table. Every nursing student come look pan mi… every doctor come talk to me. At one point I slept with my gown up under my breasts because every other 15 minutes somebody wanted to listen to something or press dung pan mi belly 🙄. I never told anyone because if I went into the details of what was really happening, me wudda well and dead based on their un- medical opinions. A wudda just bawling and fish n bread eating BEFORE mi dead. Couldn’t manage that energy so I did it alone.
Obviously I survived. I overheard doctors and nurses talking about the baby obstructing digestive organs. About the baby being a girl. About them preserving the feotus in formaldehyde as a teaching tool or something like that. Bwoy, I have to look back and count my blessings ( or curses… depending on how you look at it).
I think probably need to talk to a therapist in my lifetime. Probably soon. Until then, me just bury it with a to do list, and my child’s achievements, my achievements and relationship stuff like every other WOMAN. One more difficult decision that had to be made while these fucking idiots sit and talk about things that don’t affect them.