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Submission: (I’m on mobile.) My “abortion” wasn’t typical. I slept with my abusive boyfriend to keep him happy and I did use birth control. Problem was, I found out I was pregnant at 2 months. He let me keep it another month before punching me in the lower belly 21 times to make me lose the baby. I almost bled to death and now I have ovarian and intestinal cysts.

I was recently forced into having an abortion. Pressured, coerced, manipulated, he used every tactic in the book. He has moved on without a care for what he has done to me, I have not. I am still upset everyday, and time hasn’t made it that much better. He has never apologized either, not that anything he could say would change what he did. This was 2 months ago. I found myself in tears this past mother’s day.

To other women out there: be strong and talk to others if you feel backed in to a corner, I wish I had spoken up sooner.

Sitting at urgent care for a sprained ankle. I am not happy.

I’m doing it backwards….

Went to the er Friday…now at urgent care today….wat?

I had a late-term abortion at 22 weeks because I had a severe case of pre-eclampsia. The night I had the abortion, I was seizing so badly and had a 105 fever, so my husband made a hard decision. The doctor told him it was either me or the child, so he chose me and the gave me an emergency c-section. I since had a little girl who is now 4 months old, and the anti-choicers have called me a murderer saying I should have died and let my “baby” live

So, this isn’t exactly an abortion story per say, but it’s relevant.
My friend was volunteering as an escort for Planned Parenthood, and she was walking this girl in. Obviously, the protesters were telling the girl “DON’T KILL YOUR BABY!!!!! DON’T LET THIS ESCORT BRAINWASH YOU!!!!”
Surprisingly, the girl started laughing. The protesters were outraged, now screaming “YOU THINK MURDER IS FUNNY?!?!?!” and stuff along those lines. When the girl finally stopped laughing, she said “No. I just find it funny that you’re begging me not to kill my baby when I’m a virgin. I’m just here to get Gardasil.”
For anyone who doesn’t know, Gardasil is an HPV vaccine. 

I’ve ignored this blog so much. :( 

Sorry loves! 

Im still here I promise. Just send in stories, or talk! :)

I was 13 years old when I had my abortion. I was living in Florida at the time with my mom and I had been seeing a boy named Matt for ten months. I remember it exactly. We had had unprotected sex on the 21st of March, 2010. I was supposed to start my period on the 27th. I had never ever missed a period, or been late at all. My mom hadn’t known that I had been having sex and had never had a sex talk with me. On the 28th of March I had a friend from school buy me a pregnancy test, me being too ashamed. She happened to live only a few minutes walking distance from Matt. I peed on the test, and a few minutes later, I found out that I was pregnant. I remember crying harder than I had ever cried before. I took the second one and it didn’t say any different. I remember sprinting to Matt’s house and crying in his stepmothers arms. After I told my mom, she was so angry. I remember going through one night of saying that there was no way I would give up my baby, but I knew they wouldn’t let me. Now, I’m grateful that I did, because I’ve come such a long way in the past two years. 

If you want to talk to a certain person because their story is similar to yours, just put an ask with “To the *Story name* can I talk to you?” or something to that effect, and im sure the person will come forward to who they are, and are willing to talk. After all, this is what this blog is about.

All are welcomed. 

So, right at the beginning of this fall semester, going into my fourth and final year of my degree, I took a quick gander down to the Option clinic (Option for sexual health clinics are what we have here in my province in Canada) I was only expecting it to be short visit to get a pap and switch contraceptives. My breasts at the time where being really sore and my period was late but nothing really added up in my head, I just thought it was just me winding up for the impending shark week. I got a pregnancy test done at the clinic anyways though. And surprise surprise! It came back positive. I was 5 weeks pregnant and not pleased at all. Although thank god for being in Canada where abortions are free and you only have to pay a small fee (80$). The nurse was so nice and gave me all the info. I then spent a small fortune on a long distance call to my parents and I made a appointment for two days later. The “cell clump” was in it’s early stages so I got to get a medical abortion instead of a surgical one. One problem… I feint at the sight of needles, and the sight of blood. (I’m just so fragile and feminine!) So, I go to the blood tests the next day and promptly pass out.Twice.

And here’s where things get kind of silly.

The Nurse then writes me down as unfit for needles (a medical abortion is done by 2 injections) So when I head back up to the clinic the Doctor walks in with a glass of orange juice. She took the medication out of both the needles and pours them into the orange juice. I then proceeded to drink the most delicious abortion ever. I literally drank abort-juice. I thought it quite amusing. So then I proceeded to go through the most physically painful two days ever. The pills that make you bleed out the fetus and it’s bloody wrappings also give you the maddest cramps ever and then the heaviest and longest lasting flow ever. In the end buying the larges granny pads ever and re-buying all my ruined pretty underwear cost more than the actual procedure.

So moral of the story, not all abortions are scary and horrible and traumatizing and difficult, mine was easy, emotionally painless and I feel no guilt or shame or anything. Pregnancy is something that happened to me and I dealt with it as I saw fit. Also, a womans body and what she does with it is no business to anyone but herself, especially not the penis who’s only contribution to the whole thing was it’s sperm. 

P.S. Sleep with as many men as you want, fuck all of them if you wish. No shame. And everyone deserves safe free abortions no matter how many penises they’ve slept with.

*From Prochoicetruth 

I know I don’t post much or reblog much. That’s because I wanted to have submission based post, not a ton of reblogs. 

This is a place to find comfort if you are facing the decision of an abortion or if you had one and want to hear words of comfort. 

If you are facing one and you need someone to talk to, feel free to send me a msg or an ask and I will help you. It’ll be okay. 

Thank you to all of my followers. You’re all wonderful people :) 

This is not my abortion story. I truly wish it were.

This is a story about having my autonomy taken from me, and the consequences of that situation.

I was nineteen years old in February of 2009. I was a college sophomore studying abroad in a small village in Co. Kerry, Ireland. I was 3000 miles and 5 time zones away from my entire family, my boyfriend, and all of my friends. I had been out of the United States for two or three weeks when I started throwing up, and then my period didn’t start when I hit that birth control pack’s week of sugar pills.

And it didn’t start.

And it didn’t start.

The reality was that I was one of six American students in a town of around 300 people. I’d messed about about three months in the previous birth control pack. The only place in town to buy a pregnancy test was at the chemist down the street from my school. I was ashamed, I was afraid, and I thought that if I bought a pregnancy test in Ireland that everyone in town would know that I was just another slutty American for the rest of my trip.

So I waited. We had a trip planned to Scotland and London the week of Valentine’s Day, and I figured it would be much easier to get lost and pick up a pregnancy test in London than it would be in my tiny Irish town.

But what if the test was positive? What would I do? Abortion was, and is, illegal in Ireland, so if the test was positive I would be coming back to the United States five months pregnant. And nothing I could do would change that. How would I tell my parents? How would I get prenatal care?

So I did what I think any frightened nineteen year old would do when placed in an impossible situation – I found the silver lining. I convinced myself that it would be okay – that my friends would be excited for me, that my family would help, and that if I transferred schools I might even be able to finish my degree closer to home.

I accepted the fact that with sore boobs, the worst case of heartburn I’d ever had in my life, and a period that was MIA for over two weeks even though I had been on birth control, I was pregnant and needed to plan for the best. Taking a pregnancy test was only a formality.

Just before we left for Scotland, I had some spotting. I did some research and found out that that could be normal in a first pregnancy, so I put on a pad, said a quick prayer, and hoped for the best. I’d know whether or not I was pregnant for sure in four days, anyway. Then I could call my boyfriend and give him the good news.

My spotting was a little bit heavier and I was feeling a little crampy on our first full day in Scotland, but I was anxious to see the sights and walked to Edinburgh Castle.

I feel sick now remembering it.

Around lunchtime I paused to change the batteries in my camera when I felt a stabbing, pulling pain that bent me double. I felt faint, and had to catch the edge of a nearby bench to stay upright. This was not normal. This was not okay. And then I felt the warm, sticky moisture between my legs.

I went to the bathroom to confirm what I felt. I still remember how much blood there was. I was haunted by it for years. It would wake me in a cold sweat for months and give me horrifying flashbacks every time I saw any blood at all for the next two years.

I walked myself back to the hostel, took three benadryl and three iburprofen, and went to sleep. I lost my baby by myself, 3000 miles from home, that night. A small grey lump, no bigger than my fingernail, drowned in a sea of red.

It took almost a week before I could bring myself to tell my boyfriend, that “If I [had been] pregnant before, I [wasn’t] anymore.” It would be another three days before I used the word “miscarriage.” We named the baby “Avalon.”

I spent the week in London by myself. After we got back, I was so deep in my grief that I didn’t eat, or sleep, or bathe. The director of my program was worried, and he sat me down in his office one Wednesday after class. I told him everything, and in exchange he brought me to a doctor in town. The doctor was unsympathetic and he told me that maybe if I had used contraception this wouldn’t have happened. I left his office more deeply convinced that this miscarriage was all my fault. I continued to not eat or sleep regularly for another month.

I’ve come a long way since that time, but I am sad to say that my life has now been divided into two phases: before the miscarriage and after the miscarriage. Life after the miscarriage is hard, but getting easier to understand every day. I struggled for many months with the idea that I was not allowed to grieve because I would have elected to have an abortion if the choice had been available. Now, I understand things a little differently. Even though I would have ended my pregnancy anyway, I wish I could have ended it on my own terms so that I could have avoided the trauma. If I had been able to have an abortion, I could have avoided the nightmares, flashbacks, and crippling anxiety attacks. I wouldn’t have had three incompletes over two semesters because I was emotionally unable to leave my dorm room. Perhaps most importantly, if I had been able to have an abortion, I might not have been so alone.  

Sorry I’ve been MIA. :( Im back now, but there’s no stories to share with you. 

abortionconfessions:

http://abortionconfessions.tumblr.com/post/16999786860/my-story-from-the-admin-of-abortion-confessions

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You’re all lovely. You’re all strong. You’re all wonderful. 

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This blog cannot function without the wonderful followers and story submission I get. 

So please, share a story. :) 

As I have said before, ALL stories are welcomed. 

When I was 19 I started seeing my partner, whom I am still seeing to this day. Our days and nights would consist of getting drunk on cheap wine and having sex. Not all the time with condoms.
I started getting sick but passed it off to being hung-over. I decided to get my act together and signed up to do charity fundraising around the country. When I was in a different city, after throwing up all day (to what I assumed was travel sickness), I did a pregnancy test on my lunch-break just to rule out the possibilty.

I was pregnant.

I phoned my boyfriend and cried down the phone to him. I had no way of getting back to my home city as the fundraising agency I was with was not able to give me any money as I had only been there for 5 days. I was not in the right state of mind to carry on working for another week and two days in order to be eligible to get paid, so I called around my friend’s to see who could lend me the £30-ish to get back.
I managed to get back the next day, and told my mother who gave me a fierce hug and said she’d support me no matter what, but she hoped that I would be able to carry to full-term and give the baby up for adoption. At that time in my life I had an abnormal fear of pregnancy and giving birth, something that I had had from youth, but to which I no longer suffer from.

I went to my doctors’ who referred me to a hospital to proceed with the abortion. It took a week before I could get an appointment, and then I found out I was 9 weeks gone. I was able to see an ultrasound, which was pretty neat, and then given a tablet. On the way home, sickness kicked in, and I only just managed to get off the bus before being vomitting in front of the shocked driver and passengers.

The next day I went in at 10am to have another round of drugs, and I had to stay in the hospital until the foetus came out. I had told my partner that I was OK going in alone, so I took my notebook and a few books to keep me company. I was put into a room with four beds, three of them occupied by women with their partner’s and friends.
I was the only one on my own.

The nurses were very kind, and you are entitled to one meal, which I unfortunately vomitted up. Since we were in hospital gowns, and there was no telling when the abortion would occur, we were not allowed to leave the room to go to the canteen, so I went all day without food.
Everytime we went to the bathroom we had to take a cardboard pan and either urinate or defecate in it, and then alert a nurse who would check it to see if the foetus had come out. I remember when mine came, I just looked at it in shock. It looked liked a malformed puppy with a muzzle for a face, not the image that the pro-lifers used (not that I believed that hype).

When the nurse came and took it away, I was free to go.

Although I do not regret the decision to have an abortion, at times I find myself day-dreaming about the What If’s, as in, What If we hadn’t had an abortion -  it would now be going onto it’s 3rd birthday. But then I remember all that I’ve done in the past 3 years, and it doesn’t seem as bad. I just see it as postponing the inevitable. I am going to have children, just when it is planned for, and is financially feasible.

(I give permission to use my name)

I love you, I whoever you would’ve been.

I had my abortion a little over a year ago, when I was fifteen years old. I am still, to this day, dealing with the pain it’s caused me. The child’s father, my boyfriend of just a few months at the time, told he me would support me either way. My father assumed I was keeping it. My mother pressured me and insisted that I get an abortion. She had me when she was sixteen years old and said she wanted better for me. She said we would be kicked out of our house by her significant other if I kept the baby and we’d probably end up on the streets. She said I would be selfish if I kept my child. So I found myself at the abortion clinic.

When I arrived, there were no protesters there. It was a really hot, humid day so I supposed that was why. The other people there were horrible and obnoxious. I was the youngest person. There were a group of girls dressed in short-shorts and tight-fitting shirts with their cleavage showing. Although I’m all for people dressing however they want, it just seemed very unfit for the location, and it made me extremely uncomfortable. There was one lady who kept loudly playing music on her phone, not seeming to care that she was sitting in the waiting room at an abortion clinic. No one else was crying except me. And I cried the entire time from the moment my mother and I walked in the door until we left. The procedure itself wasn’t painful. I chose not to look at the ultrasound image, which I’m not sure if I regret or not. On my way home, I ended up vomiting in the car. I’m not sure if it was the meds I had taken at the clinic or if I had just worked myself up to the point of vomiting.

At first, I don’t think it really hit me. The first few days after I was a bit guilty, but otherwise fine. I don’t know why, but it was a few months after that all of my emotions seemed to hit me. I developed an eating disorder. Although I’ve shown eating disordered behavior my entire life, they came to a head at that point and turned into an actual disorder, and I used that disorder as a way of punishing myself for my abortion. I still do it to this day. 

My father never said a word about my abortion after it happened, until a month or so ago when he got drunk and called me a whore and said he didn’t think I had a right to feel sad about it because I was the one who had spread my legs and let myself get pregnant to begin with. We’re no longer speaking. My abortion ruined my relationship with myself and my father. I will always regret my decision and would do anything to take it back, but since I can’t, I do feel like I need to punish myself for it. I don’t feel like it would be right for me to ever get over it. I think about my baby every day.

I am still and always will be pro-choice. But never let another person, be it family, friends, or a significant other, influence your decision. Don’t go through with it until you’re positive it’s what you truly want to do. In my case, my abortion has greatly effected my life in a negative way. But I think that for some people, it is the best decision and it’s not something they’ll regret. Despite my feelings about my own abortion, I will always support a woman’s right to terminate her pregnancy if she wants/needs to.

Yours

your grandmas

your moms

your dads

your sisters

your friends

your aunts

your uncles

your cousins

*Of course, have their permission or ask to be completely anon when submitting*

You’re all lovely. You’re all strong. You’re all wonderful. 

Send me your stories. :D

For those that read the story “Scared” and are wondering how the young girl is doing, she’s okay. She needs a support system, so for those that want to provide support, send her a message. 

-Admin

I’m 19 and attending college, I decided to move in with my aunt and uncle for the summer to work 3 jobs to save money for school. With working so many jobs a few weeks ago I decided to unwind with some coworkers, I drank too much and ended up hooking up with someone I barley knew. I had a bad feeling over the next few weeks and kept noticing signs about pregnancy, tv shows, movies, posters, and things like that so after my period was a week late I decided to take a pregnancy test to get the thought out of my head. Of course it made things feel even worse, I took only 2 tests but both were positive. I am still currently pregnant, and according to the online calculators I’m roughly 6 weeks along.  I made an appointment 3 days ago for an abortion scheduled for August 3rd. I’ve always told myself since I became sexually active, if this were to happen to me at the wrong point in my life I would have an abortion because I am pro choice and believe it should be everyone’s decision. But now that I am in the situation and it’s only a week away, I am getting so scared. I know as of where I am in my life I cannot support myself let alone another human being and I do not have enough family support to help either, I also know I could never go through with adoption because I had a bad childhood and I want to be the best mom I can be, but when the time is right. I feel just disgusted with myself and I can’t even look in the mirror, I try to not let the prolife comments everywhere get me down but it’s making me feel bad, even though I know this is what I want/need to do. I guess I’m just looking for some advice to prepare myself for this life changing situation that is happening in only a few days. I think every girl who has had to go through with this for whatever reason is so incredibly strong, and I just hope I can be strong too.

When i found out i was pregnant my boyfriend and i went into complete shock. We both thought we were so careful, but i guess it only takes one slip up. We immediately started looking up abortion clinics and scheduled a consultation for the following monday. Me as a 15 year old and him being only 2 years older both in highschool, neither having a job or anything stable, abortion was the only option. I’ve always been sorta against abortion, but in our case it was for the better. I’ve taken a new understanding to teen pregnancy. I’ll never forget the look on this lady’s face in the waiting room at the gynecologist, it was pure disgust. We found out i was about 6 weeks pregnant at the time and honestly that was so shocking since i had got my period less then 5 weeks before that. The nurse recommended the abortion pill since it would be less traumatic. Lets not forget about this precious child i was about to kill… i cried every night. I wanted to keep him or her so bad but it simply wasn’t an option. I never told my boyfriend this but i’m really heartbroken. On that wednesday i took the second step of the pill. The pain was terrible, it felt like my period but 100x worse. Probably one of the worst days of my life. That was only 4 days ago and i’m worried i might be a statistic, one of those 9 out of 100 women in which medical abortion doesn’t work. On the 15th we have another appointment to see how everything went and i’m completely scared it didn’t work. I am now a statistic regardless of the abortion process. I got pregnant at 15 years old, i’m one of “those” girls. Honestly this is not a joke. The pain and depression i have felt is like no other. In the end i’m glad we’re not keeping the baby. Hopefully in a few years we can try again. I don’t regret my choice at all.

Come connect with others

There was this guy I met when I was 15 and we knew right away there was a connection. He was 7 years older than me so we didn’t want a relationship, esp. since he had a son to take care of.

Fast forward to April 2011. We hung out one weekend when I was home from college. We smoked a blunt with a friend of his and getting back to his place, I put the moves on him. Now that I was 18, he was willing. Like a lot of girls/women, I knew right away I was pregnant. Just in denial.

Not knowing for sure, I still partied and such with my friends back at school. I drank at least 3 nights a week and smoked about 5 days a week, both cigarettes and weed.

It wasn’t until the semester was almost over when I was nauseous a lot that pregnancy reentered my mind. And it wasn’t until I was back home and vomiting constantly that I realized I needed to find out for sure.

After finding out (funny enough, through my first Tumblr) that I was thinking about taking a pregnancy test, the guy I slept with (we were not dating) contacted me and through the next couple of days, the decisions were made: I wanted adoption, he wanted abortion. If I didn’t abort, he would take custody of the baby and never allow me to see it. When I found out for sure I was pregnant, I broke. Scared that I didn’t really have anyone to talk to. My mum was concerned, but didn’t offer much. My best friend of now 18 years had no idea, and neither did anyone else. This one kid, who I had been friends with in high school, hung out with me every day from the moment I suspected it. He brought me to the movies, bought me foods I was craving, pulled back my hair when I was throwing up, all of it. He even helped me with my payment so I could start at the college I go to now.

I soon realized that I was sick too severely to be normal. I wasn’t able to keep down any anti-nausea medications my doctor prescribed and nothing seemed to help. I stopped eating all together. From that alone, I knew that I needed to end the pregnancy. At 10weeks, I made the decision. At 11 weeks I made the appointment. At 12 weeks and 2 days, I ended it. If I hadn’t, who knows what could have happened to either myself or the fetus. I knew it wouldn’t be good.

I owe that decision not only my life, but my education, my new friends, my family (the ones who didn’t stop talking to me), and my boyfriend and soon-to-be-fiancé (surprisingly, not the boy who helped me with the pregnancy).

This was last June. My baby would be about 5 months now. I get sad, yes. I’m certainly more maternal now, and I can’t look at children without wanting to cry. However, I knew it was the right thing to do. It’s not right in all situations, but I guess that’s all a matter of opinion.

If any of my followers need support, you can always come to me. 

I will also be making a page where you can go and talk to others that have had an abortion. 

Everyone is welcomed. 

I had been in an emotionally and sexually abusive relationship for almost 3 years.    We broke up in the middle of August before our senior year of high school after I had discovered various sexual relationships he had been having behind my back.  In high school I was a varsity swimmer, and all through August and September I began feeling very sick during the intense workouts.  Practices became increasingly hard, I was nauseous on a daily basis, and my times were suffering.  Worried that I might be pregnant, I tried reaching out to my ex.  However, he just laughed it off and told me I was imagining things.  After that, I took three pregnancy tests during the course of a week, and all three told me I wasn’t pregnant.  When the nausea wouldn’t subside, I went to the school nurse, who had me take another test after explaining everything.  This one came out positive.  My ex was brought to the nurse’s office, and we were left alone to discuss my situation.  Word for word, I remember him saying “I don’t want a child showing up on my door 18 years later asking if I’m his father.”  Similarly, he later told me that his parents laughed at the idea of me keeping the child, saying I would be a bad parent and telling him he shouldn’t worry because I’d “end up getting rid of it anyway”.  With no support from him or his family, I eventually told my parents.  My dad was very calm about everything, but my mother was furious.  She cried and screamed and yelled, having my father call Planned Parenthood that same day to set up an abortion.  She also refused to let me go to school between when I told them (a Monday) and the appointment (Thursday).  I will never forget the things she told me would happen if I kept the baby, even for adoption.  According to her, my family would ostracize me, I would receive no support emotionally or financially from any relatives(most of whom are strict Catholics) and  I would be forced to drop out of my school and move to a home for unwed mothers in a city that’s over an hour from my hometown.  In other words, I would lose my family, friends, education, and financial stability.  I went to the clinic with my father and had an abortion on October 1, 2009 at 7 weeks 3 days.

Having had time to reflect on everything and heal, I do not regret my abortion despite the fact that I felt as though I was forced into it.  Had I not had an abortion, I would definitely not be in college right now preparing for my dream job or have a wonderfully loving, respectful boyfriend (who knows this entire story and more but has never once judged me or thought less of me because of it).  I believe my abortion gave me the chance to have a better life.  For me, it was definitely the right choice.

What my mother did was wrong, however, as no one should be forced into an abortion through fear.  She still continues to harass me for everything that happened (i.e. call me a stupid slut/whore, tell me I killed her first grandchild, tell me I’m never allowed to talk about the procedure to anyone ever, tell me I’m lucky any guy wants me, etc.).  Ironically, she has also become anti-abortion because she doesn’t want “anyone else going through what [I] had to go through”.  It’s sad because she fails to realize that my suffering was not caused by the abortion – it was caused by her.

Come Share your story. 

Let our voices be heard. 

When i was 16 i got pregnant by someone i had just meet from over the weekend. Weird as it sounds i knew i was pregnant after we had sex.  We kept in contact and both wanted to keep it . My mother found out and forced me into getting an abortion.. in the long run i know it was best for her but i wish i had the choice to make my self i wanted to keep my child… R.I.P Yogi u will never be forgotten