Rating: NNNNN
When I was 14, I met this guy. We dated for five months and then we decided we were ready to have sex. I thought meeting him was the best thing that had ever happened and that it would change my life forever. I was right in a way. Meeting him did change my life, and having sex with him changed my life forever.
We had it all planned. Friday night, his parents went to their cottage and we went to his house. We smoked a joint and then watched a movie. Then we started to kiss and moved into his bedroom. We got to a point we had never gotten to before, new territory. I was scared but totally excited. He kept asking if I was OK with it all. He was great. Finally we did it, and it was OK. I guess I expected rainbows and cloudbursts, even though I knew better.
One of the problems was that the condom was hard to put on and it kinda fell off, but I was sure that was fine. I mean, we were both virgins, so what did we need to worry about? Nothin’, right? Wrong!
Three weeks later, I threw up in the morning. I felt like shit. I had no idea what was wrong.
Same period
I have this friend, Alison. We usually get our periods around the same time. Mine is sometimes a little more irregular, but as my mom says, “It’s normal for a girl your age to have irregular menstrual cycles.” (Why can’t she say “period” instead of “menstrual cycle”?!)
So Alison and I get our periods around the same time and she’d had hers a week ago and I still hadn’t! Alison knew I had just had sex. She was a pro in that department. So I asked her if maybe she thought I could be pregnant. We laughed – I guess partly ’cause it made us nervous and partly ’cause it would be my fuckin’ luck to get pregnant the first time I had sex! But, you know, I still didn’t believe I could be – I just thought it was the flu.
Alison took me to this clinic she goes to to get the pill. I was so worried I would see someone I knew. They got me to pee in a cup, and then I had to wait for what seemed like hours. Well, you can imagine how shocked I was when the nurse came in and sat down with that sad, supportive smile they all have and said I was pregnant. FUCK. FUCK.
OK, so life’s over, end of the world, cannot tell anyone, might as well die right now!
The nurse told me all this shit about my “options.” I was listening, but not really. All I could think was, “I am never having sex again.” When I left, they suggested I come back in a day or two to discuss my “options.” I went home and lay on my bed and just stared into space, blanked out big-time.
The next day, I figured I had to tell my stupid sperm-carrying boyfriend. He was pretty cool about it all, suddenly Mr. Adult. He said he would come to the clinic with me after school.
This time, when she talked about options, I was listening. What I figured out was that I had two: 1) have the baby, be disowned by my mother, quit school, have this child depend on me forever, never go out again… life over, and 2) have an abortion, kill a baby and feel like a murderer for the rest of my life. Great options. Thanx, everyone!
The nurse could see my stress. She asked my sperm-carrying boyfriend to leave us alone for a bit. Then she explained a lot of stuff. We went over the pregnancy-and-having-a-child option, reviewed the costs involved, the places I could live and where I could go to school.
Then she explained abortions. She told me it wasn’t a baby, but an embryo, and that at this point it was just a mass of tissues. She explained the procedure and how I would feel, and then she started to talk about “choice” and that it is important that I have the “choice.” I was learning that “options” and “choice” were two words these people liked a whole lot.
I went away to think again for a day or two. My boyfriend wasn’t a lot of help. He didn’t want to sway me one way or the other, but he also didn’t really want to be involved.
I thought and thought. In the end, I had an abortion. It changed my life forever. I realize now, two years later, it was the right decision, but it still sucks. I will always wonder what would my child be like? Would it be a boy or a girl? Would it have my brown, curly hair or his red, straight hair?
The thing was, we broke up a few weeks later. We would never have lasted as a couple. I was happy in a way, because it supported my decision. I also made the basketball team last year, and that would not have happened if I were a mom.
Made sense
I don’t know. It’s the hardest decision, and I had to make it at 14. Maybe I should have spent more time thinking about the sex that got me to that point. I guess I fucked up, but at least I had a choice (there’s that word again) about what to do.
If I did it all again, what would I do? I don’t know. I never agreed with abortion before, nor does my family, but in the end it made sense.
I wish it were easier, so I could give other girls advice, but it’s not. It’s a really personal, intense thing, and like I said earlier, having options, having the ability to choose what is right for you, is key, and that goes for all sorts of areas in my life. I guess in the end I learned a lotfrom this really shitty situation.
Excerpted from The Little Black Book: A Book On Healthy Sexuality Written By Grrls For Grrls, published by St. Stephen’s Community House
