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I live in constant fear of failure. Every decision I make is marked by high levels of anxiety and months (sometimes years) of afterthought. “Did I make the right choice? Will this lead to my inevitable doom? Will my future be marred with unhappiness and regret.”

Having an abortion was the only decision I never second guessed.

Six weeks (and an embarrassing amount of symptoms) went by before I even contemplated the idea of being pregnant. Two tests down, I couldn’t deny it any further. A deep-seated dread filled me. In my whole life I have never been more afraid.

What if I couldn’t get rid of it? I felt like I was drowning in panic, but silently, on the train to work.

I prayed for a miscarriage and I considered the stairs but luckily for me, the NHS is fucking awesome. I got all my appointments booked and confirmed within 7 days of taking my at-home-test. All I had to do was wait three more weeks. But when you’re pregnant – three weeks is a long time and believe me, every single moment SUCKED.

My body wasn’t my own anymore, and if it was, the bastard was betraying me.  This alien-like creature was sapping my life force and torturing me at the same time.

Once, when I was young, I discovered I had worms. I immediately ran to my mum and begged her to “get them out of me!” I wished I could run to my mum now. The thought of something inside my belly without my permission made me feel sick. But to be honest, I felt sick anyway.

I was so bloated and nauseous I couldn’t eat. And believe me, I tried. Underneath the nausea, I was starving. That empty hollow feeling where you feel like you’re going to faint. But any time I brought food to my mouth, my throat would close up and I couldn’t bear to push anything past my lips.  Tomato soup was one of the few things I could manage, along with nibbles of cream crackers, and chocolate ice cream (a tub at a time).

My boobs were agony. They, along with my extremely bloated belly meant that I could no longer sleep on my stomach or side. When I could get comfortable, it never lasted long because I suddenly had the incessant need to pee every hour.

This all felt entirely unfair because I was so extraordinarily tired. It is hard to explain just how exhausted I was all of the time. Most of those three weeks I spent in bed, feeling miserable and disgusting.

I remember crying into my pillow one night after google searching “Stomach cramps in early pregnancy” and reading “Remember your uterus is going through some major changes and has basically been invaded by something that is growing larger inside of it. So most likely what you are experiencing is the stretching of your uterus. Congrats and good luck!” I didn’t want my uterus to stretch!! I didn’t want this thing to grow inside me. There was no joy for me. There was no luck. I wanted it out and I wanted it out NOW.

Being pregnant was something I always dreamt about. How wonderful I imagined it would feel to grow and bond with my own baby inside me. But I hadn’t planned this baby. It didn’t feel wonderful. I didn’t bond with it.

Written Anonymously


The following links are for NHS centres, charities and Maria Stope centres where you can find help and advice on pregnancy and abortion, well being and aftercare.

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