These are starting to remind me of Anna's Monday Make Overs

I have written details about my experience at the "clinic" before. But as fiction. Once in my other less known about journal and once as a part of the Journal Land Novel but that one had a different outcome, the outcome I wish I would of had.  For the post aborted women the memories of the clinic and the act its self are the most painful and the most suppressed.  It is not something I look back on fondly and for along time just shoved it down deep. It is one of the most emotional and physically painful events in my life. Despite it's fancy decor and half smiling faces, I don't even think the workers like being there themselves.

So I guess this is my attempt to write about it openly, not as fiction but truthfully from my memory.  If any women reads this and is also post aborted, you may find this painful because it may remind you of your own abortion.  I beg you not to shove your memories down but to face them.  There is help out there for you to deal with this traumatic event in your life, where you can find forgiveness and start to heal.  Many crisis pregnancy centers offer post abortion counseling. Look in your phone book and find one. Believe me once you face your feelings, your hidden guilt and shame and grief, you can start to heal. Or e-mail me and we can talk more.

I was spared the hassle of calling around and finding a clinic myself and doing the pricing.  I am sure if I was told I had to go about doing that myself I would of right then and there said NO Way.  I am shy to this day about calling around to companies and asserting my needs, think how I was when I was 15. I wonder if there were Crisis Pregnancy Centers listed in the phone book back then like they are today right before the abortion clinics are.  I wonder if my mom or my aunt, I am not even sure who looked it up, saw them and paused at them.  I was totaly ignorant to how much it coast and all of those kind of details.

It seemed after it was decided that I was going to get an abortion it went fast.  Less than a week I think.  My Aunt drove up from out of state to take us.  I wasn't told what to expect or how it would go, just that this was a good thing. I seem to remember my Aunt saying my life will be all the better because of it.  My Aunt being a RN insisted she could be in there with me for the whole thing and hold my hand.  That thought comforted me alot and made it seem less scarry. Like I said in previous posts, I looked up to her and respected her greatly.

We lived in Northern Wisconsin and the clinic we went to was in Green Bay, I think. I don't remember it's name and wish I could talk to my mom about it, it would be interesting to see if I could get my records but I doubt they would give them to me.  I don't remember the exact date either. Just that it was the start of summer. It was a couple hour drive to the clinic from where we lived. My aunt drove us in her car and my mom was in the passenger front seat, I was alone in the back seat.  The radio played oldies rock n roll, the oldies station my mom liked so much.  I remember wishing I had brought my tape player imitation Walkman so I could listen to the only music that soothed me that whole summer, The Black Crowes.  I don't remember any chit chat or talk between my mom and aunt or me. It was a quiet ride except for the oldies music.

I remember it was a bright sunny day but on the inside of me it was raining. I wore sunglasses and felt so dramatic. Like I was going to a funeral and was in mourning. Did I think the sunglasses would hid my tears that were ready to fall at the drop of a hat?  After the long drive we finally pulled up to the clinic, the place where the appointment was set. My heart was already a steady thumb as we parked the car and walked around to the door of the brink building.  Ring Bell for Service a sign had said and a security camera looked down at us. Or was it more like a two way intercom, like they have in locked lobby apartment complexes? Either way it was a locked door and we had to be let in.

At first I did not notice them. I did not hear them as we walked around the building.  I was in a fog, telling myself it will all be over and done with soon.  There was a small handful of people a few yards from the building on the side walk.  The few seconds before a buzzer sound from the door let us in I glanced over at them but hurriedly looked away.  I just saw ordinary people with pleading signs and then in a booming male voice that still sometimes comes to me, crying out "DON'T KILL YOUR BABY. PLEASE DONT DO THAT TO YOUR BABY!"  My heart stopped at the sound of that voice, who was telling the truth, begging for my baby's life. I immediately started to cry. I didn't want to hear it, it cut me to the core and maybe if I had time to ingest that statement I could of found the courage to run.  My aunt mumbled under her breath but I could hear her, with hate in her voice she said "I was afraid this would happen." (nice of her to warn me that there were ppl like that but then she would have to explain why they were there wouldn't she) And then the door opened and we seemed to escape what at the time felt like insults and unsympathetic protestors.

My memory is dim on how the lighting and how the decor was in the clinic. It seems so grey to me now but I am sure it wasn't like that. I remember the plastic chairs that seemed like the kind you would find in a school gym during an assembly.  The waiting room seemed full of people. I sat as my mom signed us in and got proper forms. Not to far from me was a girl with pleading eyes next to what I assume was a boyfriend in flannel. Across from me was a young women with a mop top of dark blond curls with red eyes and a red nose from crying.  I don't remember any smiling customers in this place.  I remember being called up to the lady behind the bullet proof Plexiglas and slide more forms for Me to sign under the slit in the glass. The lady was very professional and I remember a sign that said NO Checks Accepted. All business.

 It felt like forever before I was called back behind another locked door that opened to a buzzer. Blood was drawn by a friendly chatty nurse who explained why they needed to take my blood and what tests needed to be run on it. HIV, RH Factor, Iron, and ofcourse to see if I was really pregnant. She stuck me like a pin cushion and then I was ushered back to the lobby for more waiting.  When it was time for me to go for the procedure I took my aunts hand and she walked with me to the doors that lead to the back hospital smell rooms. But once we got to the doors the lady explained ONLY patients was allowed back there and no one else, even if they where RNs.  My heart sank and I felt betrayed but I went threw those doors anyhow.

First I was brought into an office and "counseled" but I don't remember what was said, just that I wanted to get it done with at that point, the waiting was unbearable and the lady didn't try one way or another to sway me.  Just going threw the motions it felt like. Then again I was lead to what would look like any OBGYN's exam room and told to undress and put the gown on.  I had never had "women" exam before, so that added to my anxiety.

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I have been trying to write this for over 3 hours. It is slow going and I know I know... I don't have to write about it, but I want to, need to. I will finish up later.  This is starting to feel like an epic novel, sorry to leave you hanging.