“I was 16 and I was in love. I found I was 8 weeks pregnant in December 2009. I am Spanish and I am not coming from a very Catholic background. However, my home country is still very influenced by the Catholic church and in the deep inside of its culture, we are very Catholic.
At the time, abortion was mostly illegal except for three circumstances: 1. risk of death for both fetus and mother, 2. Malformations on the fetus 3. life-threatening physical and physiological conditions for the mother. So, getting and abortion was not able for everybody on economic terms. At the time you must go to the abortion clinic if you were lucky enough to being able to afford it. Luckily for me, I was.
When I was 16 I did not know what an abortion implies and I did not know what was really about to come. I had a boyfriend who at that time was a nice guy. The condom broke a few times and on the last time I want for the emergency pill, both the chemist and my boyfriend told me to not to take the emergency pill. So, I listened. So, I thought both were right, maybe I was still under effects as the emergency pill is a very strong drug.
I thought my period would come then. But It did not come. My mother, who is a woman full of wisdom, after seeing my period was never coming, sat down with me and talked to me. I was scared, and she told me she was going to buy a pregnancy test. Later that day I did it. It was positive.
I started to cry and cry. I did not sleep that day. I did not know what to do. I needed some space to think, to talk, to ask questions, to seek advice. But I didn't have the space, the time to think to realize what was really going on. Three days later I came back from high school and my mother told me next week I had an appointment at the abortion clinic.
I went there with my mom the next week. She was all quiet, she did not say too much, neither did my father. He just gave me a hug the day he found out. I had surgical abortion. I was fully asleep during the procedure. I remember waking up and I was all alone in the recovery room none of my parents or my boyfriend were there. There was a woman crying in the bed next to me. She also had an abortion. She was on the edge of the bed crying uncontrollably in a fetal position.
I was looking at the ceiling. I was bleeding. The nurse came and cleaned the blood and took some gauzes out of my vagina full of blood. She put a pad on me. I was still wordless looking at the ceiling. After an hour, or maybe a few, I walked out of the clinic and my mother and my boyfriend were there. When I went home, I lay down in bed and I fell asleep for a few hours.
I continued bleeding and eventually that night it stopped. For a while due to the political situation in Spain at that moment many things in the news were related to abortion. The government wanted to change the law to a more open one. During months you could only hear in the news people telling people like me I was a murderer and people telling me I was brave, and I made the right decision. I was very confused. I did not make the decision by my own. My mother made the appointment for me without asking or talk to me about it.
I was told to not to tell or talk to anyone about it by both, my parents and boyfriend. My relationship was full of psychological abuse suddenly. My boyfriend was telling me that the baby was not his, and next time it would happen he would tell everybody because obviously I would have cheated on him again. I was told suddenly I was a whore. I was not good enough. He told me to stop study because I was not going to get into any universities. I was stupid. I was banned from make up or drinking.
One day we broke up. He told me he loved me the most and that nobody ever would love me the same way. I stopped being wordless and I said ‘Well, thank God!’ And I left. I suddenly realized of the magnitude of all those facts and moments and what having an abortion implied and the way he treated me. I started therapy and I went to University. But I felt that the decision of going through an abortion was made by my mother at first chance.
Everything went into a rush, all very quickly. I realized that all the following years, studying at Uni, travelling, living abroad, settling in London, being just me and happy wouldn't have been the same. None of the things that happened to me in the following 9 years would have happened otherwise. So, I decided to live a life of joy, laugh and full of ‘I am doing this because I want to and I can’.
It has taken me 9 years of my life to be able to speak up about my story, I still have nightmares, and flashbacks about that day. I will probably live with this trauma the rest of my life. That is fine now. I have never been angry about my mother because of what she did. I think she was doing it with a very sad heart thinking it was for the best. And I love her no matter what. We don't talk about it and I am happier and healthier living far away from the place in where all that happened.
One day my ex-boyfriend asked me for forgiveness. I did. I believe we all deserve a second chance. We are not friends and we won't be ever again, but in the end of the day he is not important. I spent more than a year being unable to feel pleasure or any sexual activity after we broke up. It has taken me 9 years to open to the world, to get to know my body in sexual terms. Hopefully one day I will create a family and have children, I would love to if the circumstances are the correct ones. Hopefully one day all the women that go through this have the spaces to talk, to seek for advice and to not to feel guilty without any reasons.” —Anonymous