A lesbian in Italy: a story less known

My story is a little different. I think perhaps that is why I have not told anyone in the three years since my abortion. The stigma I feel is tied to my privilege.

Girls of my privileged upbringing and 'bright future' don't get abortions, because they're smart - they don't get pregnant. 

Girls of my privileged upbringing who live in an expensive neighbourhood, with double University degrees, awards and high school prefect-status littering our CVs, aren't gay. These types of girls tease other girls and spread rumours at their all-girls high school - that's the only time they ever dare utter the word Lesbian.

But I did, and I am.

After graduation, I traveled with my girlfriend for 10 days before we broke up. It was traumatic, but I continued my travels. Although my head was a mess and my heart was in shreds, I was making friends with fellow hostel-goers and the endless nights of wine and strangers were a welcome escape. 

In a fun drunken haze of a night out, I did it, I slept with a Man. He got a room in a hotel the next morning, and all that next day in a hungover lethargy he fucked me, in between my naps of exhaustion and self-disgust. I didn't think. 

I had only had sex with a man once before.

Once I realized that I was 90% gay at age 21, I never contemplated contraception. Unlike all my friends who, in relationships or not, were on the pill since the age of 17. I was university educated, but had paid very, very little attention in health class in high school. So, after a day of unprotected sex, the Man and I went to an afterhours pharmacy to get the morning after pill (ECP). I didn't think.

In my country it is easy to obtain as an over-the-counter medicine. But I was in Italy. I didn't think. 

The Italian pharmacist sent me to an Italian doctor. The male doctor shook the Man's hand. It felt like I was a bystander to their business meeting. The doctor gave me the ECP. Almost exactly 24 hours after the first time we had sex, I swallowed the ECP and thought nothing else of it. I didn't think.

Three weeks later I was staying with extended family in the UK, and just didn't feel right. I was sleeping too much, I was exhausted, I was eating like crazy, and I felt bloated. I was pregnant. 

I tried everything - I drank wine all day, every day; I ate unpasteurised cheeses I had left unrefrigerated; I made a parsley tea; I tried a homemade a pessary (would not recommend!); I would punch my stomach, chain smoke cigarettes, intentionally try to get sick, dressing cold and eating seafood. I was so desperate. I was ready to cut myself to show just how much of a danger to my mental health it was if an abortion was not granted. 

Having been unable to get an abortion before my flight home, I spent the remaining 10 days continuing my attempt at a “natural” abortion. Once home, I felt like a naughty teenager. Living in the house of my parents, making up lies for where I was going and how long I would be away. Jetlag, the excuse for my tiredness, was wearing thin after a week and a half.

At the various preliminary appointments, the staff would smile, and ask,: “is it your first?”. I had nothing to say, so I nodded. I wanted to say, it doesn’t exist, I have no partner, I am GAY, this is all so ridiculous, it’s all a complete mix up. 

14 weeks after Italy, back in my home country, the day of my surgical abortion arrived. I have never been more excited or relieved in my life!

I woke up in the recovery room feeling groggy, confused, and relieved. I got up to go to the toilet and I fainted before I could reach the bathroom. Blood had gone through my nappy-like pad and was visible to all to see through my jeans.

With my cardigan tied around my waist, I arrived home that evening and joined in with Normal Life. We watched TV, I chatted to mum as she cooked dinner, and when it reached an acceptable hour, I took myself off to bed. Mum made a comment, why was I so tired and sleeping all the time. I said I had bad period pain, and that was that.

Relieved to have the choice

I was 19 and had become pregnant after a one night stand on a holiday I was taking with my best friend. I flew home the next day and took the morning after pill and thought no more about it, assuming I was ok.

Two weeks later I flew out to Central America to meet up with a friend and travel for the remaining summer months. I had been having awful headaches and was very tired with pelvic pain for the last fortnight, but didn’t think I was pregnant. I had been to the doctors before I flew to ask them to give me a check-up as I felt so strange. They were dismissive and told me I was just worried about the trip and to go and have a nice time. 

Whilst in Central America my symptoms continued. My period was 2 weeks late and I jokingly said to my friend that if it was any later I would be pregnant,

My period didn’t come, so I worked out how to ask for a pregnancy test in Spanish and bought one. To my complete shock it came back positive. We were in a fairly remote jungle in Costa Rica at the time and when we found a doctor I asked him what I could do. I wanted an abortion, but I was in such shock that it didn’t even cross my mind that it would of course not be even near possible out there. He just gave me my due date and offered me prenatal vitamins and said I had a kidney infection. My pelvic pain worsened and I thought that I might be having a miscarriage daily. I made the decision to go home to the UK to have an abortion, leaving my friend on her own in Nicaragua. 

I went to the hospital as soon as I returned and it turned out I had an infection in my womb as well as the foetus. I was put on medication and told to wait 2 weeks until I finished it. I didn’t enjoy being pregnant as I was sick every day so when it came to having the abortion I was so relieved that the nausea and tiredness would be stopping. I had a surgical abortion at 8 weeks, which I was able to get free on the NHS and it was very quick and well managed.

I have not once regretted or felt ashamed about having my abortion. I always knew that it was the right decision and I had so much loving support from my friends and family that I felt very safe and held throughout the process (The man I slept with knew but was out of the country so I never saw him again). The hardest physical part was travelling around and back from Central America whilst being very unwell. 

I did not, however, take into account how I would feel emotionally after the termination. I woke up feeling relieved, but also heartbroken, which surprised me. It took a year for me to come to terms with the fact that I wanted the abortion but also allowing myself to feel a loss and sadness for the pregnancy and child I could have had. I am a very maternal person and although I would consider having another abortion it does affects me in a big way emotionally.

6 years on there is no pain or sadness, just occasional reminders. Sometimes I think about how old the child would be if I had kept it but I always feel extremely grateful that I got to have a choice over my own reproduction where as women in so many countries do not.

My Daughter's Abortion

My daughter had an abortion.

We found out we were both pregnant last year, except she was almost 3 weeks ahead of me.

She was a young addict in an abusive relationship. I was the same age when I had her. She didn't know what she wanted in her life but she knew that she couldn't provide. So, I offered to provide in her place.

She grew more attached after having her ultrasound. I grew more attached. 

Then it happened – “Mom, my abortion is scheduled for Thursday. Can you send me money to pay for it?”

I couldn’t sleep that night. I kept apologizing to my grandchild..."I'm sorry. It's not your time." 

I gave her the money and a postpartum pack from my bereavement/birth Doula supplies. I explained the sensations and physical experience she would have after the procedure and what to watch for when she went home. I called the clinic and asked if I could accompany her as a Doula. The clinic refused.

Thursday morning arrived: “I'm sorry little one. I can't save you. You'll come back when the time is right. She's getting her life together. She is my child. I support her. I love her.”

No Regrets

I have had two abortions, one at 24 and the other at 26. Both times I was using contraception, the first time condoms, the second the contraceptive patch. Both times I fell pregnant with the same man who was my long term boyfriend and who also could've probably provided for me and a baby financially. So, why did I have an abortion not just once, but twice? Well I just didn't feel ready. Mentally or emotionally I wasn't prepared to give a child what I thought it needed, and I suspected my partner wasn't either. I felt certain of my decision the first time. The second time, not knowing if perhaps this would be my last chance to have a child, some doubt did creep in, but after about two days of serious consideration I knew that those factors did not override my feelings of not being mentally ready to take on such a massive commitment. 

The first time I opted for what is called a 'medical' abortion, believing it was a less invasive procedure. Living in the UK, abortions are actually free but there is a waiting list and it can take up to a few weeks. If you want the termination done as soon as possible then you have to pay for it, so that's what I did the first time. On arriving at the clinic I wasn't particularly nervous as I thought the whole process would be easy, just popping a pill and feeling some discomfort and perhaps experience some bleeding. How wrong I was! There were some protesters outside with quite graphic posters chanting nasty messages at us as we went in. It really pissed me off to think that people could be so judgmental and self-righteous.

I took the pill, was advised to take some paracetamol, go home and let things take their course. After a few hours, a sudden crashing wave of cramps rushed through me and I felt what I can honestly only describe as the worst pain I've ever experienced. Then followed hours on the loo feeling like I'd pass out from how cold I felt and intense vomiting and diarrhea, screaming at my partner that I thought I might be dying. After a call to the clinic and being assured that I was just having a strong reaction to the pill but that I would be ok, I had no choice but to just ride out the excruciating pain until I was so exhausted I fell asleep. The experience traumatized me due to the physical pain I went through, but other than that I have no regrets.

With my second abortion, I chose to have the surgical option. All I remember is lying down in the theatre room one second and the next waking up in a wheelchair being pushed to a recovery room. Apart from feeling a little groggy I felt absolutely fine. I was taken to sit in a room of about 8 other girls until the anesthetic wore off. Some were crying which was disconcerting but I personally knew I'd made the right decision. Fast forward 5 years and I'm pregnant for the third time with the same man, but this time it was planned and we are both happy. I can honestly say neither me nor my partner ever felt moments of regret since the terminations. In fact there have been quite a few moments that have proved to me we made the right decision both times.

Now that I'm nearly 9 months gone I believe that in my twenties, neither I nor my relationship with my now fiancé was strong enough to withstand the emotional toll that pregnancy brings with it, let alone the responsibility of what having a child involves. I also think having those abortions has made this experience all the more special this time round and something I know we are both now completely ready to undertake.

Remembering

This year I am the age my mother was when she had me. For some reason that feels significant. As I write this and my eyes unexpectedly well up, I realize that I have not reflected on my abortion since I had it, except to remind my partner what a shit feminist he can be.

I was never good at remembering when my period was due - I have a string of stained pants to prove it. But the month it happened I remember repeating to myself ‘it should’ve arrived by now surely?’ Maybe the moon’s orbit was out of sink or my cycle had twinned with my menopausal mother’s? As I held the test in my wet hand, wishing away the blue lines, I knew it was not a mistake. I had known already somehow. My body had already started to change, subtle but perceptible changes.

My partner was there when I came out of the toilet and hugged me as I curled up in bed. He told me repeatedly that he’d stand by my decision whatever it was. There was no doubt in my mind – I was getting an abortion. Okay, he said, opening his laptop, this is where you need to go. You’ve been here before, I said. Yes, he replied.

I was so angry and disappointed at him. Yes, I’d been careless too but it felt so wrong that after fathering a life once he had not taken more care for it to never happen again. Now, for the second time he was on the precipice of fatherhood yet he felt no emotional connection to the life we had both created. He felt a lot for me and was there for me, yes, but not for his child to be. He didn’t feel the fear, the life, the loss of another abortion. The inequality of it felt stark.

Between my initial appointment with the doctor and booking the procedure, a week passed. At the time, my relationship with my own mother was strained and I was in the process of taking difficult steps away from what she expected of me. I was trying to plough through the thorns and the fear to become my own person. I remember that for that week, my secret motherhood felt powerful and liberating, giving me the strength to stand up on my own two feet.

I was 7 weeks pregnant and decided to go for the surgical procedure, as it sounded like the most full proof. I remember it being described to me as a vacuum cleaner. Having watched too many documentaries about the 1 in so-many-people who despite anesthetics, feel and hear everything, I was terrified. I had nightmarish visions of the surgeons laughing at me and putting my body into ridiculous positions whilst I was asleep. I felt uncomfortable about leaving my unconscious body to them. I remember the face of the grey-haired aesthetician peering at me as I passed out. All I remember is waking up sobbing uncontrollably - apparently a side effect of anesthetics.

My decision to have an abortion didn’t feel difficult. I was disappointed in my partner and myself for not being more careful but I didn’t have to fight off guilt and my conscience was clear. Waking up to myself bawling uncontrollably was a shock. It felt like my subconscious was letting go of all the unsaid and unformed feelings for the life that had been inside me.

When we finally left, we were met outside by a lone-protestor with a placard. He was there to intimidate people like me on the way in and scar our consciences on the way out.

But we won’t be deterred, because we haven’t done anything wrong.

That’s what makes this space so important. It is a space where we are not alone, and will not be silenced or shamed for exercising our right to our womb.