Rape and Abortion

 13. RAPE AND ABORTION 

Hello and welcome back. At this time I invite you to take a short walk with me as I journey to healing as a sexual abuse survivor. Please stay to enjoy my gem of positivity at the end.

Abortion is a delicate topic of conversation. Either you are for it (pro women’s rights) or against it (pro life). There doesn’t seem to be a middle ground. But what if that choice of pro women’s rights is taken away from you.

I have been subjected to many abortions. I say subjected, because they weren’t my choice. The first was when I was thirteen years old. It wasn’t even brought to my attention that it was an abortion until recently, by my therapist Dr H. I described to him how I was sick and what happened to make the sickness go away. It never occurred to me that I had even been pregnant. I was very naive, and in many respects, I still am. This is despite what has happened to me in my life.

What’s more, my parents didn’t know I was pregnant or given an abortion. It was done by the pedophile who groomed me for many years, making me believe that he was my father, although there was no relationship between me and him except victim and criminal. The abortion was carried out by a doctor friend of this man, under chloroform. 

When I was in my twenties, I was again subjected to abortions, and yes I do mean plural. The perpetrator who was living in my house at the time, whom I will only refer to as Alex, would pregnancy test me every morning. Why, might you ask? Because Alex was using me as an unwilling  sex worker to earn money for his elicit drugs and alcohol. I say unwilling because Alex had to restrain me for his “customers”. Hence he was paranoid about me possibly getting pregnant and not being able to “work”.

Every time I tested positive, the same thing would happen. Alex would take me to a family medical clinic, not even an abortion clinic, and bribe the doctor to perform the “procedure”. It was the same doctor every time, and the method was the same. Dragged into the medical centre by Alex, tied down and gagged (so I couldn’t fight or scream), have the abortion, and then be carried out to the car by Alex. I wasn’t given the luxury of anaesthetic, or even just a pain killer.

My first baby aborted in this fashion, was actually born alive. She took just six breaths, then she was gone. The doctor prescribed me antidepressants to help me “get over it”. I never did. What Alex and that doctor did was heinous and cruel. The “byproducts” were always disposed of as “medical waste”. 

I wasn’t given a choice to keep or lose my babies. There were no rights involved. Not mine, not the babies. Mind you, it wasn’t my choice whether I got pregnant or not either. Each pregnancy was the result of nothing more nor less than rape.

I am not going to wade into the rights and wrongs of each side. All I know is for me, each pregnancy and subsequent abortion was a blatant violation of both my rights and that of the babies. To me, those babies were real. They were a part of me for a time. And then they were taken away.

Unfortunately, pregnancy can result from a sexual assault. And abortion is not an easy decision. I don’t know of anyone personally, who would take that course of action lightly. Pregnancy resulting from rape is particularly hard. There are women who believe in the intrinsic right of the child they carry. In which case the baby, when born, is likely to be put up for adoption. There are also women who believe they can’t live with the constant reminder of the assault. I don’t know for sure what my decision would have been. Either way, the sexual abuse continued, in the form of the forced abortions. 

I realise that this post will hit home to many of you readers. The point I’m trying to make is that abortion is real. Abortion is a trauma in and of itself, whether or not you are doing it by choice. And for many rape survivors, the violation of rights started when you were first raped. 

For me, although it was not my choice, I’m trying to forgive myself for the loss of those children. What makes it all the worse for me, I can no longer fall pregnant and have a child now. The damage was done. Irreparable damage. Not just to my body either, but to my psyche as well. I struggle to even be around babies and small children. It’s just too much of a reminder of what I’ve lost. But that doesn’t mean I still can’t heal. I can, and I am.

I’ve had trouble finding a suitable gem of positivity for this post. This time I have chosen an affirmation:

I am a unique, special, and valuable person.

Despite everything, abortions and all, that have happened in my life, especially the things not of my own choosing, I need to remember this, now more than ever. Despite every single trauma, I am still unique, I am still special. But more than anything, I am still valuable. And you are too.

How do you celebrate your uniqueness? I invite you to leave a comment on how unique, special, and valuable you are. And until next time, just breathe and believe.