Warning for a little tmi post. I just need to vent and get some advice.
Six months ago I made the decision to terminate an unplanned pregnancy. I was taking the pill at the time which made it all the more difficult. I believed what they told me, that it would just be like a heavy period, and was initially relieved to stop vomiting and be able to eat after becoming very ill, dehydrated and losing weight in a short few weeks. My partner and I both struggle with anxiety and depression, and I relied very heavily on him before discovering I was pregnant. Immediately after my second appointment he told me to leave because he couldn't deal with me needing even more from him when he had nothing left. My family did not know about any of this so I went home to my parent's house, and for the next ten days I shut myself away unable to talk or be with anyone whilst passing the remains of the pregnancy. It was the single most terrifying, lonely, and saddening experience of my life. Since then my partner and I did get back together and he wishes he hadn't left me alone. I feel though, like that has caused me most damage. First I lose this potential chance of a family, then I lose the person I created it with, the person I love.
I keep getting flashbacks, and everything I experience is akin to the symptoms of PTSD.
If we drive in the direction of the clinic, I am reminded. I feel the sickness in my stomach.
If I smell strong savoury food, the smell that made me sick during pregnancy, I am reminded.
I loathe coming off my pill to bleed because all I see are the remains of a lost pregnancy. Those that terrified me as I wondered if they should look like that or be that big.
I felt like I couldn't tell my family because my sister had fallen pregnant just two months prior. How could I tell everyone who was celebrating this new addition that I had killed mine.
Being surrounded by baby items made things worse. Sometimes when I am out shopping I can't help but indulge in the baby aisles, wondering what I would've bought, other times I shy away as it becomes real and painful again.
No matter how much I try and reason with myself I always feel self loathing. As if I killed my child. I feel like a poor excuse for a human. I always knew my decision if this were ever to happen to me. But the reality of the aftermath is getting too much. It sucks me in and I can't escape.