Abortion Testimony free ebook:

"To live or to kill a life"

- Chapter Two -

 

 


CHAPTER 2


A chapter of my life was about to end before I found out that I was pregnant.
Tired, yet at the same time full of hope for a new beginning, I had invested all my energy in the preparation for the state exam which would enable me to become a lawyer. Years of study, of sacrifices, of renunciation, of continuous efforts to overcome mental tiredness were about to be rewarded. My greatest wish was to fly away and become independent to be free. It was about to happen for real!... and it did happen. 
Having overcome the obstacle, which at times I regarded as insuperable, joy was no longer a feeling that I hoped I would experience as soon as possible, but it had become real: it was the perfect end of an immense effort. Now, everything looked downhill. Such great satisfaction! I was feeling alive, enlivened by great vigour, contented as I had never felt for some time, ready to face the world.
And next to me I had a wonderful man, whom I loved as I had never loved anyone before, who was my support in my daily life and who was my smile and my happiness...
Then...
...darkness.




Alarmed, even though it was only a minor delay, I felt overcome by great despair for some days. My period had always arrived regularly and for that reason my instinct told me that the delay was almost certainly due to pregnancy. And if that was true, what would I do? I chased my thoughts away in the attempt to exorcize them, as if my indifference were able to dissolve them and avert what I was afraid of. But, inevitably, my mind was projecting into the future and I was afraid.
Fear...
Fear of growing up? Of taking my responsibilities? Of forcing destiny’s hand and of getting married out of duty? Of tying up a person whose intentions I hardly knew? Of becoming a burden to Stefano and to my family, since I did not have a job and I was unable to give my child all it would need?
I do not know... I cannot answer...
I “only” know that I would have loved that child immensely, I would have saved all my love for it.
But I was feeling so confused that I couldn’t easily put order in that tangle of conflicting emotions.
There was only one way to end my torment: I had to do the pregnancy test. Doing this required prudence: as I lived in a small mountain village in Italy, I had to be discreet to avoid the gossip and comments that would be unavoidable. I had to go to the chemist’s of a nearby town: yes, that would be the best solution.
The car journey was full of silence. The more we drove, the sooner we approached the moment of truth. And I was so much absorbed in my anguish that I lost the sense of space, 



of time, of Stefano’s proximity. I only remember that we were holding hands and that, in that difficult situation, I was overcome by numbness: there were no colours around, no light, no voice.
I would have wanted children, and I would have liked my beloved Stefano to be their father. I happened to daydream about our family, but there was no stability in my life.
And what about him? What was he really feeling? Would he feel trapped in case of a positive result? He would certainly remain by my side... But all of a sudden it felt as if I didn’t know either him or myself... Inexplicable.
After the purchase, the return journey was the right time to read the information leaflet and to become familiar with the instructions for using that “thermometer for hormones”, which was so small and yet capable of changing the direction of our lives.
More and more certain that I knew the answer without waiting for the colouring of the lines, I was nonetheless hoping that I was wrong. 
Only a three-minute wait was required... Endless moments...
The result was positive. 
Overcome by great despair, I felt suffocating... Never felt such anguish.
It was as if my life had ended in that moment. I was crying and I couldn’t calm down. In a certain sense, my reaction surprised me, too. I repeated, “I don’t want it!”... As if it had been an unwanted present to turn down. But the child was already inside me, was living inside me, was breathing inside me... What was so tragic in the life that I was carrying in my womb? What was so tragic in the absolute and pure innocence of that child? Nothing. Nothing at all!

And yet, I persisted in being unable to understand...
I felt lost. Now nothing could be done – except throw it away! Yes, things must be called by their proper name.
Initially, I didn’t consider the possibility of having an abortion because it was against my principles, the values and teaching that my parents had imparted to me and, therefore, in conflict with my own conscience... 
... My conscience... that same conscience that I intended to keep away from any type of compromise, in any situation I would find myself. But, instead, I had already sullied with my intention that would soon become reality. 
After giving free vent to the anxiety built up in the previous days, as if in a break from the anxiety in my heart and mind, I started to cherish the idea of becoming a mother after nine months... It seemed to me an incredible, wonderful, extraordinary idea, and on the phone with my friend Liliana my tears had unexpectedly turned into a smile.
But the following day, “that idea” became more and more insistent and filled me with a terrible anxiety... The mechanism had gone off. 
With the excuse of wanting to be informed about what would happen if I chose not to keep it, I set out for a journey with no return. But it was all my decision because until the last moment I could have turned away and stopped everything saying, “No, thank you. My child and I are leaving.” My life would be better at present, I have no doubt.
But it didn’t end like this. From then on, everything happened so fast: the first meeting with Doctor X, the gynaecological visit in his study, the ultrasound scan that I didn’t want to see at first, only afterwards, the blood test (obviously carried out in a private clinic). The “preparation” for what would turn out to be the most horrendous and terrible day of my life.

The words spoken by the doctor, but, above all, the unspoken ones still come back to my mind, leaving me as dumbfounded now as on that occasion. I remember that, after a short and detached explanation of the development of the operation, Doctor X added, “ If you go for it, go ahead and don’t turn back.” And then, turning towards me, “You only need to be patient”.
That was the only thing I needed. That was enough.
He never asked me, not even once, “What makes you do it?” or “Do you know what really happens?” or “Are you sure?” or “How are you?” He never tried to talk me out of it. He never mentioned the fact that motherhood could be wonderful, the miracle of life that it shelters. He didn’t help me to reflect, to think rationally (because a woman who thinks of having an abortion doesn’t have the lucidity to understand anything, being overwhelmed with panic and fear). As if killing or giving birth to a child were the same thing... as deciding to wear a pair of black or white trousers... as if it were natural and normal.
That coldness, which I perceived as dominant, isolated me and combined to increase my loneliness... I needed to talk, talk, talk... and to be listened to so as to be understood and helped.

 
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