Brenden turned 11 years old yesterday. I can’t believe it. I remember the day I found I was pregnant with him. I shouldn't’t really say, “the day I found out” because I knew for a long time and was in major denial. I finally had to face the fact that again I was prego. I can’t explain the words for how I felt about it. Vanessa was a year and half old and I still was not over her infant months and the constant crying that went with it. There was no way I could EVER go through that again. I am surprised I did not end up in a mental hospital and this is no joke. She was the worst baby ever and would stay up for 48 hours at a time crying. Insane. I did not like my baby Vanessa until she was about 3 months old and finally stopped crying. How could I do that again? I was scared to death. Besides the fact of how we were ever going to afford another baby.
I took $350 out of the bank and dropped Vanessa off at Jessica’s where my Mom was watching Sal and Samantha and made some excuse about where I was going. I got in the car and headed to the nearest Planned Parenthood. Why do they call it that? Most of the people there are there because they did not plan. I sure did not plan on ever being there. What an atmosphere in that place. Nobody is happy, very quiet and just a feeling of down. My name was called and into an office I went for the lady to talk to me to make sure nobody was forcing me to do this. I was so numb I just wanted to get it over with and answered every question of what I thought she wanted to hear but nothing truly from my heart.
Sitting in the waiting room with five other girls who also were making this same CHOICE was awful. One was chewing her nails another blabbing about all her kids. I felt so different from them and felt I was there for something different than the reason they were. I was not like them. I was thinking just call my name and get it over with, get me the hell out of here.
My name is called and off to the room I go. My feet go in the stirrups and they give me a shot in my uterus to make me numb. Here comes the doctor, out comes the equipment, he steps in front of me. I cannot take it anymore all these feelings of this CHOICE I am making. I sat up and start sobbing “I CANT DO THIS”. They all look at me like they are pissed or something. I jumped off the table and out the door to the waiting area, crying hysterically, saying over and over again, “I cant, I can’t”. Those other five women, if you could have seen their faces. I could never explain the looks.
A counselor came and tried to talk me into it. I just could not do it. I changed so quick into my clothes and was outta there. But not stopping at the desk and asking for my money back. I remember this day A LOT. Every time Brenden tells me he loves me. Or when he cries and I have to comfort him. Or when he comes home with a good grade. He was a crier too as a baby but not as bad as Vanessa. With him, because of what I almost put myself through, it was much easier to deal with. I love him and can’t believe I even thought of doing what I was going to do.
His first Birthday I sent a letter with his picture to the “counselor” who was trying to talk me into to it and told her Thank You for not doing a good job in talking me into it. Thank God for CHOICE. And Thank God for helping us make the choices we choose to go with. Happy Birthday Brenden!
