I’m sorry Miss Jackson, I am for reeaaalllllll
I had my follow up appointment at good old Planned Parenthood today. A very nice woman with tattoos and an incredibly sassy attitude probed me with the robot ultrasound machine and gave me the news. Turns out the pill was 100% successful and I am no longer pregnant. Not even a smidgeon of baby matter remains.
She was having trouble getting me to relax into the stirrups. I told her it was because a stranger was inserting an object into my vagina. She looked me dead in the eye and said “well since we’re being this intimate, I think it means we’re friends.”
I was so perplexed by her odd response that my legs immediately went slack and she was able to get the images she needed.
I knew in my heart it was over for sure when that tiny little lump of flesh came out of me two weeks ago, but it was nice to see the image on the screen come back clear. It was a weight lifted to be sure, but is also felt like the turning of a page in a story that I’m not ready to stop reading yet. I can’t shake this feeling that I have screwed myself out of some biological right by not having a house, or savings, or dedicated partner. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve wanted those things, but I was lazy and having too much fun. The end result was that when those two little pink lines showed up, I hadn’t prepared myself in any way. I had nothing to provide and just couldn’t swing it. I know it’s my fault because of the choices I’ve made and that just makes it so much worse. I might not have money, but I’ve got a shit load of love to give.
Maybe it’s time to work on relationships, or maybe it’s just time to give up on life.
One of the many things that my pregnancy brain did was make me feel emotions again. I’ve been dealing with my depression for so long that I was numb to everything. I still laugh and joke and have fun, but at the end of the day it’s all just an act. Being pregnant was like someone turning that light switch back on and suddenly everything was in technicolor. I actually felt happy when I laughed and felt sad when I cried. I no longer felt like a cyborg trying to act human for the sake of other humans.
Since the abortion I’ve slowly been slipping back into cyborg mode. I noticed it yesterday when Justin and I were making plans to meet up. I just didn’t have that giddy feeling in my tummy. All I could feel was tired from working all day. I wanted nothing more than to just go back into my apartment, close the door and not deal with it.
In the week that passed since the last time I saw him, he had turned back into another abstract thought in my brain. Like he was just a memory and no longer real, just like all the other guys I’ve been crazy about in my 30+ years. People that made me feel good for a while, but never stuck around.
I hung out with him anyways and had a great time, but something was definitely different. I think I’m losing myself back to the fog because I just can’t go through this whole “broken heart” thing again. It’s too hard and takes too much out of me.
Pregnancy brain me would say “put yourself out there, it’s ok to feel things”. Non pregnancy brain me is saying “fuck it and watch Game of Thrones instead.”
If you’ll excuse me, winter is coming…