A U-Haul on the Back of a Chevy Beretta

Beretta? That's a weird name for a car. But onto the story...

In terms of chronological events I left off in May of 2015 telling the story of the second abortion. Since then I have been mainly giving my opinions and thoughts, updating on my healing progress, and some news in regards to pro-life and social issues. I think it is time to visit the aspects of my life after the abortions.
It will be a journey of "one sin begets another" and subconscious behavior based on forgotten trauma.

To recap; I had been living with my mother at the time of the second abortion. We weren't getting along. Getting on each other's nerves. Fighting about the dumbest things. The anger escalated above the offense. From what I have read this is not uncommon, between persons who have had a mutual involvement in an abortion.

So the year would have been about 1997. I think late in the year. Winter was just beginning. Running away from something, something unknown. Packed up what little stuff I had. Stuffed it in a small U-Haul trailer. Hooked it up to that little Chevy Beretta and from Michigan to Texas I went!

My father had come up from Texas to help load the trailer and drive down. He did most of the night driving and through mountainous hilly terrain. I drove during the day on average roads.
Somehow that little car made it, with the trailer on the back. I left Michigan with the mileage past the 100,000 mark.

There is somewhat of a metaphor here. I have spent most of my adult life careening down hill and back up again, with attached baggage I didn't even know was there. Baggage seems to be a metaphor for the problems in our life.
People always talk about others having baggage and they need to get rid of it. I'm sure that is true to an extent. It's not good to carry it around and let it affect you. But at the same time, it never really can fully leave you. It really is a time waster to drive the baggage around looking for the first available dump.
In ways it can shape you, for better or for worse. If one is able to grab that baggage, look into all the contents, and evaluate it it will make you stronger. Just don't obsess over it. Sometimes the contents of the baggage will make you cry. And that's OK.

This all being said I would like to invite you on my continuing journey. The journey that involves men, drinking, funning, and the sins it led to. I will not chronicle every detail, just the basics.

So buckle your seatbelts baby, it's going to be a bumpy ride!...

Do You Know Me?

This is a post I have been having bopping about in my head for a few days.  It could have a few multiple connections to it.  Then in an email exchange my dummy self told my mother about this blog, just not the title or link.  But more about that later.

I try to stay as anonymous online as possible in regards to the abortions.  When writing I try to be as basic as possible while trying to avoid anyone recognizing me.  I make sure that no one knows where I live or where the abortions took place.  I avoid using names in any way.  There are only a rare few couple of persons who know me and this blog, simultaneously.  Telling others of my abortions is something I am unable to do.  Though I am able to speak of it and my thoughts "behind the safety of a computer."
A friend who is the administrator to their church's Facebook page expresses an interest in linking my blog to one of the page's postings.  The selfLESS side of me would allow it,if it would help someone who has had an abortion, those wondering about the life of a post-abortion person and/or someone in a crisis pregnancy.  The selfISH side of me knows that many of my friends read that page.  While I do try to be as careful as possible not to be recognized, I am still afraid that there may be that one minute thing that a friend could pick up on.
I am many persons to many people.  Those who know of my Anastasia and Hanelore account don't know my personal likes and dislikes or basic bio info.  I have a Facebook account on my real name.  Those people know my likes and dislikes along with basic bio info.  And even though they know I am pro-life and post about pro-life news and issues, they do not know about my abortions.  
Sometimes I wonder if my family, friends and co-workers even know me.

Even as myself, I feel as though others don't really know me.  In this fast paced world, we as a society don't take the time to know others.  All we want to do is make small talk with others.  We judge others.  We make up stories about others.  It's easier than to talk and listen to those who are hurting.

We see so many people around us.  Perhaps they seem fine, perhaps not.  Abortion is legal.  Yet there is shame with it.  No one wants to admit to having one.  Maybe it is because deep down, legal or not, our consciousnesses tell us and know it is a sin.
Perhaps the girl standing behind you at the grocery store has had an abortion.  What about the checkout girl at the grocery store you see once or twice a week during your shopping.  You talk to her about her cats, her home, her kids, her spouse, her parents, etc.  But you don't know the pain she may be hiding.  I am in no way advocating that you ask her about her personal details.  Just saying that many people are hiding hurts that many of us could not imagine.

It is not just about abortion either.  Some of it could be sins that the person was directly involved in.  Maybe it was something beyond their control that the sin was committed against them.  Somebody told them they were in the wrong and they feel guilt for no reason.

One of the things that bugs me is middle age men who say to women, "Why don't you smile?".  And yes, it is almost always middle age men that do that.  But not all middle age men do that.  I mean, REALLY?!  They don't even know me!  Be they customers from my job, someone in line at the store, someone from church that I don't even have regular conversations with, or what have you.  I always want to ask, "do you know me?".
That's the thing with modern society.  Everyone is expected to smile, smile, smile!  For no reason.  It would be one thing for someone to walk around with a constant frown.  Even then still, if you don't know the person, leave them alone.  There life is none of your business!  Can't people just have a neutral look on their face without someone bothering them?

The Second Abortion

This is a hard post to write.  After writing about the first abortion, in categorized posts, I was unable to go forward with writing about the second abortion.  Perhaps the reason for that is mental exhaustion, feeling like collapsing after writing about it. Perhaps shame.  I don't know.  Maybe a bit of both.
It took me forever to even remember the abortions.  Though I always knew in the back of my mind, I ignored them.  Though they always affected my life in one way or another.  The way I lived.  The way I reacted around men. The men I chose, or more or less put up with and let choose me.  
All the while I lied even to myself after remembering the abortions.  I only told myself about the first one.  Perhaps it was the differing reactions to finding out about the pregnancies.  During the first pregnancy plans were being made for, Anastasia, my first daughter.  The second time I never even acknowledged, Hanelore, the child within me.  There are even more "blank spots" in this abortion.

Perhaps you may want to start and the beginning and read about the first abortions to know where my story starts and come back when you are finished; My first abortion story.

The following memories are quite fuzzy, possibly more so than those of the first abortion.  So, since having the second abortion I moved away from (my hometown) and to (town my mom lived in).  I was still seeing "Matt" after the move.  I would drive to (his town) see him, or occasionally he would drive to (town) to see me.  Of course we were having sexual relations.  During one of the visits he saw my belly, it was getting bigger.  In fact, I never really even noticed.  He asked me if I were pregnant.  I denied it, not just to him, but to myself also. 
Even if after he pointed it out, I still ignored any thoughts of being pregnant.  Then one day while I was at work I went to use the rest room.  For some reason when I looked down at my belly I noticed that my tummy was bigger.  Then that's when the reality hit that I could be pregnant.  So many thoughts came running through all flashing at the speed of light.
I was scared, I recalled everything that went on during the first pregnancy and abortion.  "Matt's" reaction and attitude.  My mother's attitude and coercion.  I really didn't know what to do.  I hate to admit it, but I could not envision carrying the pregnancy to term.  But I did not like the idea of going through another abortion.

I guess I picked up an at home pregnancy test after work.  I don't know.  I know sometime soon after I did purchase said test.  Maybe it was the next day or during one of my first day off after seeing my large belly.  I do remember when seeing the positive results.  I know it was quite early in the morning.  I was hopelessly frantic.  The first thought was abortion, totally unlike the reaction to the first pregnancy.
Very odd, but the first person I called was a professor from college.  I should probably back track there.  See, even though I was in a relationship with "Matt" I was seeing a professor from the college I was attending.  Seeing as in having a bit of a fling.  The class I met him in had already finished before anything happened between us.  Not that I am excusing anything, just adding the back story.

Gosh, I have no idea how early in the day it was.  Just I know it was quite early.  I think I woke him up when I called.  No "hey, how you doing" I just simply blurted out "I have to have an abortion!".  He just said "I can't talk right now."  My heart just sank.  I felt even more alone than I did before.  I didn't even think he could be the father.  He had been using condoms during our "trysts."  I suppose there could have been a minuscule chance, but I was thinking of Mike being the father.  I guess the reason for calling him may have been deep down I wanted him to convince me not to.
Feeling scared, confused and trapped; I looked in the phone book looking under "abortions."  I found one ad that said something to the effect of  "Pregnant? Feeling scared?  Wanting an abortion? Call us."  So that's what I did.  I called.  Some lady answered.  I blurted out that I was looking to have an abortion.  The lady was really snotty.  She said "We don't do abortions!"  In a very judgmental tone, and hung up.  Not sure which of us hung up first.
I felt even more bad.  I thought I could do this on my own without anyone knowing.  Now what was I going to do?  I was too scared to call anyone after that.  I guessed I was going to have to tell my mother.
Looking back, the place I called with the snotty lady was most likely a pregnancy crisis center.  Fine, they didn't do abortions.  But why couldn't she have tried to talk to me?  Ask me questions?  Ask why I wanted an abortion?  Tried to talk me out of it?
Later in the day Mr. Professor called me.  Said he was sorry he wasn't able to talk to me when I called.  He was telling me I should have the abortion and that it would probably be best.  He told me that he knew others who had abortions.  I still wasn't even thinking about the first abortion.  It's like I remembered it, but didn't.  Looking back, I wonder if he ever wondered if there was a possibility it was his child.

Fast forward to Fourth of July 1996.  My family was planning on having a picnic at my grandmother's.  My mother and I drove in separate cars.  The plan was to meet "Matt" after both of our families had their picnics.  I just couldn't face him.  I didn't want to.  I called him to tell him that I wasn't going to be able to see him.  I broke up with him over the phone.  He accused me of cheating.  I denied it.  Yes, I know, Mr. Professor, and all.  But he didn't know.  There's no way he could know.  OK, so there's no excuse.
I just wanted to be alone, away from people.  I left my grandmother's.  Told my mom I wasn't feeling well.  Drove home.
When my mother got home I broke down and told her.  I told her I wanted an abortion.  She never questioned me or asked if maybe I would want to carry the baby to terms.  She asked if I was certain I was pregnant.  I told her I was sure and that the pregnancy test had two tests in the kit.  Didn't even have to wait the 5 or 10 minutes or however long the instructions said.  I could practically see the results show up as I was peeing on the stick.

At some point a doctor's appointment was made.  It was confirmed I was pregnant.  My mother told the doctor I was for certain going to have an abortion.  The insurance and the doctor was connected the Catholic hospital in town.  He said because of that he couldn't refer me to an abortionist.  Yet, he didn't try to convince me not to have the abortion. 
Eventually I was given a vaginal exam at another doctor's office.  Oddly, while I don't remember the abortionist from the first abortion, I do remember this guy.  He was a short and somewhat chubby.  I don't remember his name.  He was either Mexican, Mid Eastern or India Indian.  Had somewhat of an accent.  Doing some internet searching I think, but not sure, he is someone who has gotten in trouble with the state and a few women have died under his "care."  But again, I can't say for certain  That it is him.  I have no idea how far along I was.  Not one stinking clue.  I was never even told.

Then the time for the abortion came.  It was done at one of the hospitals.  Obviously not the above mentioned Catholic hospital.  The only thing I really recall is an older lady in the waiting room.  She asked what we were there for.  I didn't know what to say.  My mother "chimed in" and said I was having a D & C.  The lady responded that she had that done after having a miscarriage.  And that was it.
I don't remember anything after that.  I was put on full anesthesia.  Out cold.  Don't even know if the doctor from the exam was the one who did the procedure or if it was someone else.  I do not recall waking up from the procedure.  I do not know if they had me rest afterward or for how long.  I really don't remember leaving or the car ride back home with my mom.  The one and only thing I remember is my mom commenting about the lady in the waiting office; saying that she was being nosy or something like that.
I think I had a day or two of recovery.  Maybe more.  I don't know.  I think my mom went back to work after I got home.  I do know that when I went back to work there was some reason I had to grab something from storage.  In part of the post abortion instructions I was told I was not to lift heavy objects.  Considering that no one knew about the abortion I could not just tell the manager that I wasn't going to grab the item for no reason.

The end, but not really...

The Yellow Onesie

Last I finished off with Damn! That Hurt!, the telling of my actual abortion experience.  Now onto the aftermath.  The aftermath is not just a one time incident.  I have since learned that the aftermath is something that has been ongoing in my life for almost 20 years.  Having come to the realization of my abortion; looking back I can see how the planned death of my child affected me throughout my life.  But for now, I will just talk about the immediately following aftermath.

To read previous posts leading up to this one click the links below. 

I Knew, Almost Soon After Conception
"Matt" Didn't Care
Her Views Turned on a Dime
Damn! That Hurt!

After a few days I returned from my mother's either I called "Matt" or he called me.  I did not tell him about the abortion.  He came over to my apartment.  We talked.  He showed me a onesie he bought for our baby, the baby that no longer exists.  It was a typical yellow non gender onesie.  While much of my memory is fuzzy, this is one of the exact things I remember.  I remember exactly the layout of my old apartment.  I remember where in the apartment I was sitting.  I was sitting on "Matt's" lap and told him I had a "miscarriage."  He cried.  Or so I thought.  It could have been crocodile tears.  I am not sure.  I do know that I was unable to cry.  I just put my head upon his shoulder. 
He never asked about any of the details.  Then I was glad, because I didn't want to make anything up nor was I ready to tell him the truth.  But looking back, I wonder did he suspect?  Did he even actually care?
I had a horrible sinking feeling inside.  Hurt because of the abortion.  Felt bad because of lying to him.  Angry because of all that time I was pregnant he never acknowledged that I had a child inside me.  And now that she was gone he acknowledges the situation?!  Where was he when I was pregnant?  Why wasn't he "fighting" for me and our child? 
I did have sex with him that night.  I have since found out that women are told not to have sex for at least 2 weeks after the abortion.  I was never told that.  I was given antibiotics and instructions, but not the no having sex part.  But unless it wasn't written down for me, if I was only told verbally I probably wasn't paying attention in the state of mind I was in. 
"Matt" did find the antibiotics.  I told him I had to take those because of the miscarriage.  Next day or two he told me his sister told him that the antibiotics are only for abortions.  Yeah, after the baby's gone is when he tells any of his family members.  I insisted that it was a miscarriage I had.  After all, my own mother convinced my that abortion and miscarriage are basically the same thing.  Right?  We didn't fight or anything.  He just dropped the subject. 

Then came having to tell my best friend.  This is the friend from the Christian school who did the book report about abortion.  I called and told her that I was no longer going to get married.  And that I had a miscarriage.  She didn't press me on details.  Just gave me sympathy.  I felt worse lying to her than I did to "Matt."  Why didn't I say something to her, before the abortion?  Maybe she would have been able to help me or find someone who could?

Should Men Have a Say?

H/T LifeNews.com

Abortion Is A Mens’ Issue Too, One’s Sex Is Irrelevant

...
Abortion is absolutely not a woman-only issue. It affects men because every child has a father, it affects men because half of children are male, and it affects men because many of the people involved in abortions, such as doctors are men. There has been a scandal recently about sex-selective abortions, terminations carried out because the parents would rather not have a child of that sex. Some left wing publications (that would normally only have positive things to say about so-called reproductive rights) have come out to condemn it...
Read More Here