In group therapy we got onto the topic of sex and pregnancy. One of the girls thought she may be pregnant, and after 10 min of talking about these topics it came around to me. I was asked how I felt about this subject. It’s a subject I hate talking about, but will. Because every time I talk about it I start to shake and almost cry. 

When I was 18 my eating disorder was at its worst, but it was also still a secret. So my periods stopped and me being slightly stupid also assumed I just wouldn’t be able to get pregnant. Low and behold I got pregnant. I told none of my family and very few friends. In the end we both decided (I and my boyfriend) to have an abortion. I had my reasons and he supported the decision. It was hard to go through and I cried daily for months. To say I felt like scummy shit would be an massive understatement. 

Skip a year ahead. I’m still with the same man after almost 2 years. We both have good jobs, a house and are pretty stable and enjoying life. Just before I went to visit my family in London for a weekend we found out I was pregnant. After the shock I was rather happy. It wasn’t planned, but we decided to keep him or her. I was going to be a mum. And I was going to try my hardest to not let that child go through what I had. 

After my lovely weekend of fun and family I was running to catch the coach home, except I didn’t run fast enough and missed it. I called Jay (let’s call him that shall we) and was explaining how sorry I was for missing the coach but I’d get the next one in an hour. He told me not to bother 

…what? Why not? It’s okay Jay I’m only an hour behind, I’m really sorry I missed it 

Just don’t bother coming home, stay with your mum for a few weeks. 

We argued like that for a few min till I eventually burst into tears, my best friend was with me and I will be greatful always for her friendship and support. He told me he wasn’t sure he loved me anymore. I couldn’t work out what had gone wrong. What I’d done wrong. I had trusted him, I’d loved him, I’d tried my hardest to be who he wanted me to be. He was old fashioned, I did all the ‘house chores’ and if he wanted sex I gave him sex. If he wanted food I gave him food. But I did it because I loved him. I put up with his shit because I loved him. 

However he then abused my trust. There was girl named Harriet. She was also in a relationship, but apparently he was a ‘shit’ boyfriend (I personally think Jay needs to look in the mirror) so he spent a lot of time with her. And I honestly thought nothing of it. That they were just friends and he simply wanted to be a nice friend. 

[Back to me standing with my friend crying my eyes out at Victoria coach station] I hung up the phone and told her everything. It’d started dawning on me, that it was Harriet, he was leaving me for Harriet. I was heart broken and furious. I called work and explained how I had been kicked out of my own home by my boyfriend and was stuck in London. And they were helpful and   Understanding about it. I went home to my sisters because I couldn’t face my mum and E. I only told her that I’d missed my coach home. After crying some more I relasised I was going to be a single mum. I didn’t think I’d be able to go through a second abortion. And I thought that maybe I didn’t try hard enough the first time. That maybe I could’ve done it, I could’ve raised a child then and that I should make it work for this one. 

After a few days it slowly came out what was happening. They’d hear the arguments over the phone. The crying, the screaming and all he could say was ‘I don’t love you anymore’ that I wasn’t wanted back in our home, or even in Wales. That I should stay in London and stay away from him and his family until the baby is born and then he’d see him/her when he could/wanted. 

He also told me he’d break my legs if I took our cats with me and hurled abusive threats at me for weeks over minor things.

After I moved my things from the house she moved in, at one point she’d said ‘that crazy bitch is gone at last’ 

When my family found out about the pregnancy it didn’t go down well at all. Especially when they found out I was keeping the baby. I came home one day and walked into what’s pretty much known as an intervention. It was a pretty shit moment when I realised not one family member other than my sister Victoria was there for me. Not even my mum or dad. At one point her partner E offered me £10,000 to have an abortion. So you can see after weeks of hearing all this from my own family that my mind began to change. I thought they’re right I can’t do it, and it’d be unfair on the baby. By this point I’d told them about the first abortion. I’d broke down again and told them how I couldn’t go through with a second. 

But that was my own fault for getting into this situation apparently. And I started to believe it. So after cancelling my midwife appointment I booked an appointment to have an abortion… again. They did a scan and I was asked if I wanted to see him or her. I said no but stupidly peeked anyway. I was 11 weeks and 5 days. It was done on the 24th November 2014. 

I woke up after it was all over and cried. My mum and sister then took me out for dinner as a small celebration. I of course was sickened by the idea. I cried for months. And I hate myself for the whole thing. It’s on my list of reasons why I hate me.  

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