Trigger warning: This journal covers a sexual assault

Welcome to Abortion Journals, where we are exploring a deeper conversation around abortion. We’re giving real people an anonymous platform to share their stories about having their abortion, and delving into all the layers of this complex experience. 

Age: 32
Occupation: Design Operations Manager
Relationship Status: In a domestic partnership
Politics: Liberal
Pronouns: She/her

I had an abortion the summer of 2010, around the time when I turned 21. I was living in Chicago with my boyfriend at the time, and we’d been together for about a year. We lived in a coach house in Pilsen with three roommates and my cat. I was on birth control and, admittedly, was not the best at remembering to take it, especially at the same time every day.  It did, however, keep my periods regulated. So when my period didn’t come during its usual week, I went out to get a pregnancy test. As the line showed up positive, I don’t remember feeling panic or worry or really anything. This is probably because I lived in a place and during a time where abortions were readily available. 

I never for a second considered keeping it; I was young and worked a minimum-wage job in the service industry. I was barely learning to take care of myself, there was absolutely no way I could ever be responsible for anything else that wasn’t a low maintenance pet. I immediately went to the store to get a bottle of tequila. I remembered that a friend back in Texas had claimed to force a miscarriage by drinking a lot of tequila, so I impulsively opted to go this nonsensical route (which doubled up as a way to temporarily escape a really big problem.)

As soon as I could, I called up Planned Parenthood to make an appointment. They had availability a couple weeks down the line, and by the time I had my appointment, I found out I was six weeks pregnant.  At one point during this first visit, I was brought into a room where someone tried to convince me not to have the abortion. This was unexpected and awkward, as my stance on the whole situation was unwavering. I was then given a rundown of my options: surgical or medical. Since I will avoid a surgical procedure at all costs, I opted for the abortion pill. They scheduled a second appointment for me to come in and have the medication administered; there was the initial dose that they would give me at the clinic, then I would take a second dose sometime later that day from home.

On the day of that second appointment, they took me to an area that I hadn’t been in before. It was a room filled with women that had just undergone surgical abortions. They were all sleeping on cots. There was such a dark feeling in that room, I couldn’t wait to leave. I went home and had myself set up with a ton of movies I’d rented (I exclusively watched VHS at that time, no streaming services) along with some Gatorade, popsicles, weed, and tons of heavy duty pads to get me through however long it was going to take. I was warned that there could be blood clots the size of lemons, which was a little terrifying. I tried to nap because I was feeling super nauseous right off the bat, and was nervous that if I threw up I’d get rid of the first dose and ruin the abortion. I did end up throwing up, but not until several hours later. The nausea and vomiting persisted throughout the day, it simultaneously felt like someone was drilling through my uterus. The cramps were unreal; I think that’s what was making me so nauseous. I have a pretty high pain tolerance but that was next level. The bleeding, too. They were not wrong about the lemon-sized blood clots. It was definitely a horror show in my bathroom that day.

Unfortunately, my boyfriend (who should have been in this 50/50 with me, but wouldn’t even pay for part of the abortion) didn’t want to take off work that day to take care of me, so I was deliriously enduring this nausea-bleeding-cramping cycle by myself until the evening. He had a friend in town staying with us that night who had nowhere else to go, and by the time they got back to our house, I felt totally fine. I felt good enough to drink a couple beers with them, not discussing what I’d been through that day as it was none of his friend’s business. 

Eventually, I was hit with the exhaustion from what my body had just been through, so I retreated to the bedroom while they continued hanging out. They invited some more friends over and went to our rooftop to hang out and drink. It was getting pretty late and they were being super loud, keeping my miserably tired and sore self from falling asleep. At one point it was too much, so I went up to the roof and poked my head out of the door, asking them if they could keep it down just a little bit. As I was walking back down the stairs, I heard one girl (someone I’d never met before) ask my boyfriend, “Why is your girlfriend such a bitch?” They continued being loud, but at some point I was able to fall asleep. The next day I woke up feeling fine and went about my day as if nothing ever happened - which is exactly how I wanted this whole situation to work out. 

Almost immediately I scheduled an appointment for an IUD, because I no longer felt comfortable taking the pill. I kept wondering how I even got pregnant, since we’d always been using condoms, he’d even pull out while wearing one. It didn’t make any sense, especially knowing that I had been reckless in the past with other partners, not using condoms and not taking any form of birth control. Later on down the line, my boyfriend admitted that he once had sex with me while I was asleep.* I sleep like a rock, especially after a night of drinking, so while I wasn’t surprised that he was able to do this, I could not believe that he did it in the first place. I was also shocked that he finally fessed up to it after I’d been so confused. The night that he did this timed up with when I would’ve gotten pregnant, so the mystery was solved.  

Overall, I have zero regrets about having my abortion. I have endless appreciation for Planned Parenthood and how quick and easy the process was for me, and I recognize how lucky I was to be able to receive that care.

**Consent is defined as an agreement between participants to engage in sexual activity. Consent should be clearly and freely communicated. Since our writer was asleep, she did not give consent for this to happen. Sex with someone who is not able to communicate consent is assault. Learn more about consent here and here.