A Voice for the Darkness

I've found my calling.  I know what it is I feel that I need to do at this point in my life.

It's controversial, but it's something I can feel being pulled inside me to do.

To be an abortion counselor.

Yup.  I said it.  An abortion counselor.

One thing I am not is I'm not quiet about my own abortion.  I'm open about it.  I talk freely about it, using my personal experience with it when fighting about why it needs to be available, to dispel the stigma and myths behind it.  I'm one of thousands who terminated a pregnancy.  I didn't use my termination as birth control.  I did it because it was the right decision at the time.

I am not a baby making receptacle.  This is MY body, and I am in control of what happens with it.  But even still, while I may not have kept that baby, it was still no less mine.  I still mourned it, I still wondered on that "what ifs", and I still think about it every year on the anniversary of that day.

I now have a beautiful son who I love to bits.

My openness about my own abortion has brought out stories of friends, people whose lives I watch flip by on social media or in person, who have made the same choice.  Who commend me for my bravery for being so honest and open.

It's also allowed a gateway to those facing the barrel of that decision to go to someone who has been there.  To know I won't judge, and that no question they could ask about my own experience is too personal.

I present them with the facts.  I tell them which choice I made and why.  I tell them there are a range of emotions that can happen afterward, and each is as normal as the last.  There is no wrong way to process your abortion.  Only whatever way feels right to you.  I tell them what to expect based on my own experience.

And then I give them support.  I leave my inbox and my phone open to their disposal, letting them know I'm always there for them.  If they just want to cry, want to get angry, want to rant, I'll listen.  Any question they have, I'll answer.

There's a darkness, a taboo, a stigma behind terminating a pregnancy.  I want to be part of those who ends that.  Women who are traumatized after their abortions don't seek the necessary help, because the stigma attached is too great.  To bring it up is to bring a barrage of negative criticism.

I want to fight that.  Our bodies belong to us.  Everyone comes to this decision for whatever reason, and we are not one to judge them.  I don't care about why someone's doing it, I just want them to be prepared for it, to go in without any hidden surprises.  And to understand they are doing NOTHING wrong.  This doesn't make them a bad person; it's not a character reflection.

I had a hodgepodge support system after my termination, it was lacking at best.  I was allowed to process, but I didn't really get anyone to lean on.  It left a damage on me that took a while to mend, and it tore apart my relationship in the process.  I don't want to see that happen to anyone else, because of this damned stigma attached to abortion.  I don't want someone to be scared to seek out help and support, feeling like they have no right to it because they made the decision to terminate their pregnancy.

You are always allowed that right.  You are allowed to do what you need to make sure you are where you need to be at mentally.

And I am always just a message away.

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I'm not really quite sure why I start a blog.

I start a blog.

Then never touch it for months at a time.

I started a pregnancy blog.  Then abandoned it halfway through.

I started a mothering blog; it gets sporadic updates at best.

I think my blog list has like five or six I've created.  Only the mothering blog sees any action.

But I need a place for my thoughts.  For whatever random dribble my mind concocts and demands to be written down.  It won't always be good.  In fact, at times it may be downright miserable.  But life is pushing me for need of an outlet.  To de-stress and deconstruct the racing thoughts.

Thoughts that crawl through my skin and make me feel like I can take flight at the first breath of stray wind.

I guess it's part of my sickness.

But I started a blog.

Another blog.

One that may see more use than my others.  But we shall see.