I was 27 when I found out I was pregnant. It was right after I finished a silent retreat where a few women on the course were very pregnant. I overheard the course instructor mention something to a small group of people about how interesting and auspicious it is the way new souls find their way onto these courses. I was spotting, my boobs were sore, and I just knew my flow was on the way. Yet his words still pierced me, and stay with me until this day.
At the time, I thought I was home-free for another month of not getting pregnant, even after having copious amounts of amazing sex with my then-partner, without protection. Alas, I was not. The pregnancy Goddess finally caught up with me.
At first I didn’t know what was going on, I just knew that I felt very off. My body felt different, I was more tired than usual, my head felt cloudy, and my mood melancholy. One morning I got up feeling particularly sluggish and decided to get some chai and drive to a scenic overlook park. Once there, I prayed and chanted for clarity around what was happening to me and why I felt the way I did. Something in me already knew before I had the evidence to prove it.
After two at-home pregnancy tests and two different doctors visits, it was confirmed that I was pregnant with my first child. I was shocked, in awe, excited, and also full of dread. It all happened so fast and in slow-mo simultaneously. I could feel my ears ringing, heart palpitating, and the distant voice of the doctor telling me her pregnancy story. While the contradictory emotions swirled around within me, I was immediately faced with a very important and powerful decision, between life and death.
It wasn’t an easy decision to make. I always said if I was “old enough” and it happened, I’d go for it. And I surely felt old enough. Yet, why did I still not feel “ready”? As a former Buddhist practitioner, how could I even consider choosing not to protect life?
While my mind rode the emotional waves of guilt, shame, confusion, and sadness, my body began its own ride into the physical waves of extreme exhaustion, cravings, and trying to hold up the heaviest breasts in the world. I felt like I was being completely weighed down one moment and then emotionally skyrocketing the next.
Every human I looked at brought wells of tears in my eyes. I saw them as a miracle of their mother’s choice. Her choice to say “yes, I will sacrifice my body for this human you’re looking at right now.” “Yes, I chose to risk my own life to give birth to this precious being who is holding the door open for you.” “Yes, I was scared and didn’t feel ready but I did it anyway.”
The “yes” I saw in the eyes of every human face I encountered at that time was
sobering. It was only then that I realised just how lucky I am that my mom also said yes. Even with this realisation, every other day I changed my mind from yes to no. I felt selfish for not wanting what was happening to my body, while other women yearned for it. I’d guilt myself into all the logical and spiritual reasons why I should proceed with the pregnancy. It was a very intense and vulnerable few weeks before I finally made my embodied, without-a-doubt decision.
The person who unexpectedly helped me the most without judgement was my sister. She had my nephew at 22 but also said “no” to a few other souls that wanted to portal through her. When I told her my doubts, she said “Look, it’s your choice. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks or says, they will be your responsibility … for life.”
I chose to get an abortion.
Her words gave me permission to trust what I truly wanted in my body versus what I felt expected to do. I thought about all the mothers who didn’t have a choice in their pregnancy and birth. They did it because they had to or were forced. I also thought about the trauma a child must endure in knowing and feeling that their mother didn’t want them. I didn’t want my child to go through that or the potential trauma they’d receive from me and their dad’s unstable foundation. I couldn’t imagine co-parenting with their father for the rest of my life. I had a hard enough time unravelling from the co-dependent, empath-narcissist, emotionally-and-financially-manipulative rollercoaster relationship, even without the adhesive of an offspring.
Overall, I do not regret my decision. I am grateful that I had the sovereign right to make the best choice for my body and circumstances at the time. Nonetheless, I’d be lying if I told you I never think about it. I do. Especially around Mother’s Day, my mind likes to play the “what if…” game. Moments of remorse arise along with the collective grief, shame and guilt that weaves us women together in untold stories. When they show up in waves, I meet them with tears. Followed by prayerful apologies, love, gratitude and now creative expression, by sharing my own story.
What I wish I knew then, what I know now:
Support is important. Do not let your partner silence or shame you. Speak up, seek support and love from your community, and share your story with those that feel safe.
More rest. You rushed back into “doing” when what you really needed was rest,
solitude and hibernation. Your postpartum; give your body time to process and
integrate this experience. Incorporate herbs and nourishing foods to replenish your womb.
You’re not a bad person for choosing you.
They’re okay. The soul received what it needed and is not holding a grudge over you on the other side. They are at peace and you deserve to be too.
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