I remember it being just another ordinary Thursday. I didn’t feel a thing. I knew what I had to do, so I drove to meet him at Planned Parenthood not listening to any music for fear of a lyric changing my mind. We sat in the waiting room for hours as he studied, and I stared blankly at the floor. I couldn’t read a magazine or text anyone because I was too afraid of something changing my mind. There were so many girls in that room. One almost bailed, but her boyfriend brought her back. Another girl was probably fifteen years old and she was with her big, scary dad. Another was a beautiful blonde girl. I wondered what their stories were. I guessed they were all unbelievers, just like me.
“Kayla,” the nurse called. I went to have my finger pricked and my blood pressure taken. Back to the waiting room. “Kayla,” the nurse called again. Now for the last ultrasound. She hid the monitor so I couldn’t see, but I’m not really sure why since she asked if I wanted the picture. I just knew she was going to say, “Oh, Kayla, you are too far along. We can’t do it. Sorry.” She didn’t. She did say that it was my last day to take the pill though, so it was a good thing I went in that day. “Yea,” I thought, “good thing.” Back to the waiting room. This time we had to go pay, so he swiped his debit card for $400.
$400… That was the price he paid to kill our child; I wish that was the only price I paid…
I was then called into another room with two other girls where they explained what was about to happen. First, they told us how we were to take the pills and pain medication: I would take the first pill there with the doctor and I would take the second one at home by myself. They said there would be blood, but they didn’t say how much. They said it would be like a period. Actually, they said the pill would make me start my period. I wanted to say something to those women. I wanted to let them know that healing would come if they gave their lives to God, but then, if God really was that faithful, why would I not have believed Him for restoration through the pregnancy? So, I remained silent and watched as these hopeless women signed their babies’ lives away…
I went into another waiting room and tried to play Words with Friends until they called my name to swallow death’s first pill. “Kayla.” I walked in, sat down, and took that pill without another thought. And it was over. The wall blocking death had been breached, and there was no turning back. I walked out of his office and into another office where the nurse asked if this was my decision. Tears streamed down my face as I muttered, “Yes.” She so genuinely tried to help: “Just enjoy life. Live your life and have kids later. They are so much to handle. You don’t want that now.” She was right. I didn’t want that now. This was the right decision. I walked back where he was waiting and told him we could leave. He hugged me and drove back to school. I drove to Kroger, got my pain meds, and went to Wendy’s for my child’s last meal. I ate inside by myself. I felt weird. I was so anxious about just going home, going to bed and waking up on Friday to finish the job. And so I did.
I woke up Friday morning and read the pill bottle that said, “Best if taken without food.” Being the perfectionist I am, I took it without food and proceeded to throw up the rest of the morning. Finally, it was time to take those 4 little pink pills… Oh, child, it’s not your fault. It’s mine… I placed the pills in my mouth and turned on The Sixth Man because I needed something light to take my mind off of what I was doing- at least they told me that’s what I should do. Then the pain started. I have never felt pain like that in my life. Waves of cramps were hitting me every minute. He had come over in the meantime, so we restarted The Sixth Man and waited for our baby to pass. All of the sudden, I felt a rush of blood. My heart was racing as I went into the bathroom. There was so much blood, but nothing I thought was the baby. Back to the couch.
Then I felt it again, and this time my mind was burned with the image of my 9 week old baby floating lifelessly in a pool of blood.
I couldn’t force myself to flush the toilet, so I went back in the living room and told him to do it. He took a deep breath, got up and went to finish the job. Later, he told me that he didn’t see the baby, only blood and tissue.
But I know what I saw, and I will never forget it. My sweet child whom I will never know…