How I Honored My Pregnancy During the Abortion Process

A desire to be a mother has touched every part of my life for years and certainly was exploited by my abuser. When I was younger, I married my first love with the intention of having a family right out of high school. That’s the life I wanted and very nearly got.

Through some learning and living that (thankfully) that first attempt at a family didn't work out, but I had in my mind that I wanted to be a mom so badly that I would make a child at home in my life when ever one came to me. My desire for motherhood was greater than my desire for a life with a successful career or freedom to go out at night and sleep in. There was nothing I’d love more than to sacrifice that life for motherhood.

I was two days out of an abusive relationship with a sociopathic narcissist that had torn me up for months. I found out I was pregnant. My choice was immediate, but the grief was overwhelming.

There was a loss of a child I desperately wanted and the loss of a man who had pretended he would be the perfect father. Once I saw him for who he really was, I escaped. Now, there was a thread to him that could tie us together forever. A thread that would mean I would never escape.

I’d seen what had happened to his children and how he treated them. Outside of a manipulated haze, I could see he was totally unfit to raise children no matter the capacity and I knew he wouldn’t let me cut him out.

The last trauma he put me through was the greatest trauma I’d ever experience. I had the tools and had committed to take care of myself so I honored every moment of it.

Honoring the Baby

I mentioned the pregnancy and choice I was making to those that I thought would honor it. My greatest joy was when a mother that I love and respect so much placed her hand on my stomach. One woman I was sitting with laid her head in my lap and I burst with pride.

When I was in place with good people like Ecstatic Dance or Authentic Relating Games or The Clarity Center, I’d let it know that these were places to hold in high regard and try to remember in life. These were sacred places in a time where there were few left. I know I was hormonal, but I cried when I was in the car telling my uterus how important McDonald’s was to society and what it represented. 

The night before the procedure, I dedicated a ritual to a spirit that I couldn’t feel. I had tried to connect with the potential spirit but it either wasn’t there yet or didn’t want to talk to me. I had a strong feeling part of the Karmic Cycle of this life was to lose a life before living it. At my altar, I told them the story of the father and I told them what would happen the next day in detail so they wouldn’t be surprised. I thanked God for my fertility and my ability to create a life.

It felt silly at first but it was worth it to heal some serious grief for myself.

They tell you in the ultrasound that you don’t have to see it if you don’t want to, but I did. There was no heartbeat yet. I said, “Awe, look at the baby,” and the nurse said, “Well, that’s mostly the sack, it’s not really a baby -even an embryo.”

Oof. That hit me hard. 

Honoring the Body

Nothing has ever slowed me down or hurt me as much as this pregnancy. I was totally zapped of energy and experiencing severe cramps every day. I don’t get period cramps so this was the worst. I would wake up with the sun with morning sickness and have dizzy spells that kept me in bed for hours.

From what I hear, that's pretty normal. Well, shit! The pain and spotting are the only reason I knew so early but it was still a huge adjustment. 

This change in my energy was a huge reflection of the energy in which it was conceived. Manipulation, lies, control. I could feel the intent behind the conception and the relationship I was in.

I didn’t explicitly invite this specific child to come back later “when I was ready”, as some helpful people had suggested because I didn’t trust that it was healthy for me in this life. It felt like a device of what the father had tried to do to me and I didn’t trust it.

Because of this, I forgave it. I didn’t push myself. I took baths and showers and rested. I welcomed the pain and let it scrunch my face and slow me down. It did not feel like punishment but it did have a neutral energy of “consequence”. A karma long passed down and lived out for both my body and myself.

Honoring the Father

While I had done enough healing to realize he’d only been masquerading as a spiritual person, I wanted to offer him the opportunity to honor the pregnancy as well. I am not the first partner of his to have this specific experience with him (which should have been a red flag, but ya know how trauma bonding goes) and I wanted to offer him grief or connection or authentic healing or one of those things he’d pretended was important to him.

I know in my mind that he is a sociopath and none of this mattered to him but that does not change the truth of me. There was a short window and I asked if he wanted to touch me before something he helped create left the world. His response was terrible, of course. He used a phrase that had been triggering for me in the past- something that was typically a device of his abuse.

The inner child that would have been deeply hurt by that was not invited to the conversation, though. Instead, I was feeling deep compassion for his inability to live up to the spiritual, loving, and divine man that I knew he had pretended to be but could not be. I did not float back into a place of reactivity that he continually invited me to.

This meant that our last interaction was something I could be proud of. I did not become a mess he’d intended. This justified my decision to save a child that we would have together from his traumas and the traumas that he would continue to create in me. I would have regretted it for the rest of my life if I hadn’t asked him to participate in the transition but I am so glad he declined so I didn’t have to risk seeing him.


Honoring the Mother

I was confronted with this: Does my desire for motherhood supersede my safety and the safety of my future family? Was I willing to raise a child in conditions that could physically harm both of us? Was I willing to spend my energy and risk trauma in lawsuits and restraining orders and poverty?

The sad part is that I totally was willing to do all of those things to be a mother.

It was the most selfish and dark feeling I’d ever faced in myself. I was putting my desires above the reality of what that life would really look like. I was damning a child for my perceived benefit. I was attempting to control the situation. I would tell myself ways that it could work out and they were all dangerous lies.

That maternal shadow, if I’d never seen and worked on it, would have affected any relationship I had with my future children no matter what the family looked like.Confronting that was one of the most important journeys I've ever been on.

I have learned more valuable lessons in this experience than I’ve learned in my whole life. It is a shame that we learn the most in suffering but it such a wonderful gift to have that knowledge through it all. From the perspective of the Heavens, it must look even more beautiful.