My Body, My (limited, lousy, consequence-ridden) Choice. But its ALL MINE.

I'd say I handled things pretty well, am handling things well - especially in consideration of my experiences with patriarchy and control. But I definitely found myself thinking more than once that, "being a woman is the best and WORST thing I could ever be."

I researched, a lot.

At first it was difficult because, as a woman, all of my options are terrible. Just awful. The few times he tried to empathize I became angry, and expressed it, because my cost is so much greater if I take responsibility and so much greater if I don't, then his will ever be. Of all the people to direct anger towards, he is not the one - he's understanding, and compassionate - and he doesn't like any of this either. But in that moment I was angry at how unfair the whole thing is, I was angry that because I'm a woman, in this culture - things are the way they are, and really - I was angry because I was afraid.

And when I made the decision for which method I was going to try, I knew it was going to be difficult.
I anticipated physical pain, a lot of it. And I very carefully evaluated my mental stability as well.
Would this trigger any traumas for me?
Is this something I actually am choosing to do, or feel forced to do?
How would this make me feel?

I decided, rather than allowing this to be yet another form of control over my body - that I was going to use it to liberate myself. (It helped that I appreciate the heart of the clinic that I went to.)
Yeah, my options suck - but I chose one because I know what I want to do with my body, and I know what I DON'T want to happen if I do what I want with my body.

So, I took matters into my own hands.
I made my consultation appointment, and asked tons of questions. I was super direct with my doctor in asking her practice style and informing her of my expectations because of past traumas. And then I had two weeks to wait.
I spent those two weeks practicing deep breathing exercises - so that during the procedure it would be easier for me to enter a peaceful and calm state. I planned for the right support during and after the procedure. I talked about it, often, because I wanted to normalize and accept that it was coming. I set up everything that I could need for recovery and took time off of work.
And that morning - I was fine. My stomach was a little jittery in anticipation, but I was still calm enough to breathe. I made jokes in the beginning of the appointment, and just focused on remaining really calm.

I had done everything within my power to be prepared, so imagine my disappointment when the pain became so unbearable that the my doctor refused to continue with the procedure. I had not expected that.
She tried to go over other options with me, but I didn't want to deal with any of that, I was too upset.
I felt so disappointed in myself - I had hoped to liberate myself, and couldn't in that way - so I felt like I had failed. Like I was weak. Why couldn't I have just pushed through the pain?! And I cried. I thought everyone that was a part of it was ashamed of me, because I was ashamed of me - it took me a while to be okay with admitting what had happened.
See, I grew up learning a very wrong idea of what strong is - and in those moments, those unhealthy beliefs and fear took charge.
And to top it all off, I still didn't have a solution - let alone the solution I had thought was best.
He suggested I try again, because he knows how much I had been wanting my decision to work out - but that just made me angry, because the physical pain was far too great.

My options B & C are... alright. I have gotten used to the idea of them, though I still liked option A, a lot. This time I'm less dead-set on either. I'm just trying one out for now, seeing how it works & then I'll go from there.


I may not have things figured out - but I will say, I am strong. Damn strong, a different kind of strong.
And though I still may rant about how horrible everything is - I'm no where near about to give up.