Killing a miracle

For the first time, I’m actually thankful for terminating the pregnancy. Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter. I finally got the picture in my mind that I needed to be okay with the decision. I just can’t believe I gave that part of myself to someone I knew absolutely nothing about. And only to find out that he stands for everything I’m against. We’re on like opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to pretty much everything that makes a person who they are.

How could I have been so blind? And most importantly, what would my life have looked like if I had a child with him? That would’ve connected me to the ass hole for life! Not that I believe he would’ve been a part of the child’s life in any real way, but I’d still have to allow him to be involved in whatever extent he decided was sufficient to him. So I really would’ve been doing it on my own, raising a child at the age of 40 while on disability and no thought of getting child support. Granted, that picture would’ve been more ideal than the possibility of him actually sticking around.

What kind of hell would this guy have ended up putting me through? Because, of course, I would’ve endured it for the sake of our child. But what kind of a role model would this ass hole be and what kind of a person would my child have become because of it? Yes, it definitely would’ve been better if he just wasn’t involved at all. Hell, he didn’t want to believe it was his baby anyway. I wanted to shove the results of a paternity test down his throat so bad, but that probably would’ve been a bad mistake too. Then he’d have actual rights to the child as opposed to having to fight for them later on if he wasn’t mentioned on the birth certificate and I never forced the paternity test issue.

Who knows if I would’ve even thought of these things in the state I was in and with the crazy hormonal changes to be expected later in the pregnancy? I’m just so damn angry at myself! I never should’ve put myself in the situation that led to making such a heart wrenching life or death choice. I knew it was gonna take me awhile to process and grieve the loss.

Sure enough, over a year later, I’m still working through the emotions. The affect it all had on my mind and my spirit was truly traumatic. It was my rock bottom. I’ll never be the same. In my crazy mind, I still believe that somehow I was injected by a magical dick, but I killed the miracle it created. It’s easier for me than the thought of how many doctors were wrong about my infertility after the bone marrow transplant.

Just for the record, I haven’t had sex since the abortion and I don’t plan on it anytime soon. Sex was meant to be with someone you love. I deserve a man who’s up for the challenge of loving me. Until then, I’ll do just fine with the vibrating things in life.