Saturday
29Jul2006
Ghost Child (shades of gray)
You would be 12 years old. You would be finished with elementary school, excited to begin junior high. You would be crushing on various boys/girls, dreading taking a shower in gym class. You would have a favorite band. A favorite pop star. A favorite television program. You would be here.
You would be a person. With a name. Whether or not you were raised by me, you would be here, on earth. You would know who Britney Spears is. You would maybe vote for the next American Idol on your cell phone. You would have an opinion on Paris Hilton. You would have a favorite color. A favorite movie. A favorite food. You would have a favorite t-shirt and a favorite pair of jeans.
I killed you. Didn't I? DID I? Is there a "you"?
That's what they say.
"One thing that comes to mind when I think of abortion--murder. What gives us the right to take another life? Maybe it's the lack of responsibility or just simply the lack of knowledge."
I'm a murderer?
I knew what I was doing. I was no innocent. Or was I? At 17, I knew what abortion meant, I think. But I wasn't fully capable of understanding the psychological consequences.
Experts say that at the end of 8 weeks "your baby will be about a third of an inch long. Bones are beginning to form and fingers, toes, ankles and wrists are developing. By now, you'll probably 'feel' pregnant and may be experiencing some of the early side effects, like morning sickness. Your weight may also have increased slightly and your breasts may be sore and tender. Until the end of week 8 your baby is known as an embryo."
I aborted you at week 8. They sucked you from my body using their specialized vacuums that didn't feel very specialized and then they tossed you in the trash like so much garbage. Now, I spend the rest of my life marking ghost anniversaries, reconciling choice vs. abortion. And wondering.
But I am older now. Wiser. And if I could go back, I would do the same thing. If they took away my right to govern my own body I would and will fight them tooth and nail. Because I believe in a woman's right to choose. I do. But I also know that each woman that makes the mother of all decisions is forever haunted by her choice. There is no black, no white... just ten shades of gray.
I found out I was pregnant on July 26, 1994. I had an abortion on August 9, 1994. They made me wait 2 weeks because they wouldn't permit me to "terminate the pregnancy" until I was at least 8 weeks along.
I wouldn't permit myself to think of the life growing inside of me as a human. Ever. Some people say you weren't human. That you were just a mass of tissue and cells. Me? I don't know what to think. Either way I talked to you during the long drives to nowhere. I drove and I listened to U2 and Soul Asylum (this song). I used to drive into the Wasatch mountains and talk to you. I would throw up, listen to music. throw up some more... and attempt to explain myself. And apologize for what I was about to do.
"I am a mess. I can't be a mother. I can't even take care of myself." I would sob to the mass of cells multiplying inside of me. Secretly, I felt like I should put you up for adoption. After all, my best friend Natalie was adopted and she has the greatest parents ever. I successfully justified my decision to abort with very adult sounding talk of future and education and what's best for everyone but deep inside I just felt selfish and afraid.
So tired that I couldnt even sleep
So many secrets I couldnt keep
I promised myself I wouldnt weep
One more promise I couldnt keep
It seems no one can help me now,
Im in too deep; theres no way out
This time I have really led myself astray...
Is there a "you"?
"PRO-CHOICE!" is the bold rally cry for that side of the debate. No one should be able to impose their morals on my body. I do believe those sentiments but will always struggle with this; that's not why I did what I did. At 17 I wasn't a feminist. I didn't give politics any thought. I just wanted it all to go away. I didn't want to be gossiped about. I didn't want to be pregnant and prove the Mormon neighbors right. I wanted to show those fuckers that Monica Butler was going places. Now here this, you fat bitch Sister Okey and your asshole sons that call my Mom a slut and make fun of my family for being on welfare, I am going places!
I dreamt of colleges, bricks stitched with ivy and handsome young professors sporting argyle sweaters and tweed jackets with elbow patches, engaged in discussions about important events! I dreamt of getting away from welfare and judgement and sex-is-badbadbadbadBAD. And so I did it. I got rid of you. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to reconcile my decision with my heart...
For me, the right to choose is important.. but the blanket term "Pro-Choice" falls short of defining my stance. It's a fist pumper of a mantra for empowerment that is becoming inextricably linked with feminism. And I'm proud of the women who fought to allow me to make the choice I made... yet "Pro-Choice" does little to comfort me when I think about you, if you exist. Ten shades of gray.
Abortion. Termination. It means the end of something. A conclusion. But my decision to terminate was the beginning. The beginning of thousands of what ifs. The beginning of being haunted.
Where are you? Are you in Heaven? Does Heaven exist? Were you allowed to be born to someone else? A good mother? A righteous mother who earned the honor to welcome you into her life? Are you on the planet somewhere, living the life that I denied you? Or are you tethered to Heaven, waiting to confront me when I die? Will I ever meet you? Are you even a person?
Where ARE you?
Note: I am not interested in a debate on abortion. There is no comment you can make that hasn't already been made a million times either for or against.
You would be a person. With a name. Whether or not you were raised by me, you would be here, on earth. You would know who Britney Spears is. You would maybe vote for the next American Idol on your cell phone. You would have an opinion on Paris Hilton. You would have a favorite color. A favorite movie. A favorite food. You would have a favorite t-shirt and a favorite pair of jeans.
I killed you. Didn't I? DID I? Is there a "you"?
That's what they say.
"One thing that comes to mind when I think of abortion--murder. What gives us the right to take another life? Maybe it's the lack of responsibility or just simply the lack of knowledge."
I'm a murderer?
I knew what I was doing. I was no innocent. Or was I? At 17, I knew what abortion meant, I think. But I wasn't fully capable of understanding the psychological consequences.
Experts say that at the end of 8 weeks "your baby will be about a third of an inch long. Bones are beginning to form and fingers, toes, ankles and wrists are developing. By now, you'll probably 'feel' pregnant and may be experiencing some of the early side effects, like morning sickness. Your weight may also have increased slightly and your breasts may be sore and tender. Until the end of week 8 your baby is known as an embryo."
I aborted you at week 8. They sucked you from my body using their specialized vacuums that didn't feel very specialized and then they tossed you in the trash like so much garbage. Now, I spend the rest of my life marking ghost anniversaries, reconciling choice vs. abortion. And wondering.
But I am older now. Wiser. And if I could go back, I would do the same thing. If they took away my right to govern my own body I would and will fight them tooth and nail. Because I believe in a woman's right to choose. I do. But I also know that each woman that makes the mother of all decisions is forever haunted by her choice. There is no black, no white... just ten shades of gray.
I found out I was pregnant on July 26, 1994. I had an abortion on August 9, 1994. They made me wait 2 weeks because they wouldn't permit me to "terminate the pregnancy" until I was at least 8 weeks along.
I wouldn't permit myself to think of the life growing inside of me as a human. Ever. Some people say you weren't human. That you were just a mass of tissue and cells. Me? I don't know what to think. Either way I talked to you during the long drives to nowhere. I drove and I listened to U2 and Soul Asylum (this song). I used to drive into the Wasatch mountains and talk to you. I would throw up, listen to music. throw up some more... and attempt to explain myself. And apologize for what I was about to do.
"I am a mess. I can't be a mother. I can't even take care of myself." I would sob to the mass of cells multiplying inside of me. Secretly, I felt like I should put you up for adoption. After all, my best friend Natalie was adopted and she has the greatest parents ever. I successfully justified my decision to abort with very adult sounding talk of future and education and what's best for everyone but deep inside I just felt selfish and afraid.
So tired that I couldnt even sleep
So many secrets I couldnt keep
I promised myself I wouldnt weep
One more promise I couldnt keep
It seems no one can help me now,
Im in too deep; theres no way out
This time I have really led myself astray...
Is there a "you"?
"PRO-CHOICE!" is the bold rally cry for that side of the debate. No one should be able to impose their morals on my body. I do believe those sentiments but will always struggle with this; that's not why I did what I did. At 17 I wasn't a feminist. I didn't give politics any thought. I just wanted it all to go away. I didn't want to be gossiped about. I didn't want to be pregnant and prove the Mormon neighbors right. I wanted to show those fuckers that Monica Butler was going places. Now here this, you fat bitch Sister Okey and your asshole sons that call my Mom a slut and make fun of my family for being on welfare, I am going places!
I dreamt of colleges, bricks stitched with ivy and handsome young professors sporting argyle sweaters and tweed jackets with elbow patches, engaged in discussions about important events! I dreamt of getting away from welfare and judgement and sex-is-badbadbadbadBAD. And so I did it. I got rid of you. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to reconcile my decision with my heart...
For me, the right to choose is important.. but the blanket term "Pro-Choice" falls short of defining my stance. It's a fist pumper of a mantra for empowerment that is becoming inextricably linked with feminism. And I'm proud of the women who fought to allow me to make the choice I made... yet "Pro-Choice" does little to comfort me when I think about you, if you exist. Ten shades of gray.
Abortion. Termination. It means the end of something. A conclusion. But my decision to terminate was the beginning. The beginning of thousands of what ifs. The beginning of being haunted.
Where are you? Are you in Heaven? Does Heaven exist? Were you allowed to be born to someone else? A good mother? A righteous mother who earned the honor to welcome you into her life? Are you on the planet somewhere, living the life that I denied you? Or are you tethered to Heaven, waiting to confront me when I die? Will I ever meet you? Are you even a person?
Where ARE you?
Note: I am not interested in a debate on abortion. There is no comment you can make that hasn't already been made a million times either for or against.





Jul 29, 2006
Reader Comments (46)
I think you are strong because you will admit that you still wonder about that child. Wouldn't it be easier to just ignore everything that is associated with that time in your life? Uh huh.
Making the choice to have an abortion is such a hard decision for all women facing it.... I will protest in the streets when the politicos start to chip away at that important right.
I've nothing else to say.
That is what we are! :)
janet
Janet, i agree with what you say about parenting. This is why I have such admiration for women who were not perfect mothers, but did the best they could at the time.
This was so powerful, I don't even know how to respond. I'm still processing it.
Monica, please keep writing. When you do this it is like nothing I've ever read before.
Or don't, I just want you to know I am moved by it.
It is beautiful.
You've described a difficult situation very well. I agree with you about the right to choose what to do about something or someone that is in your body, but even though Im pro choice I've thought about how hard it would be to actually make that choice for myself if I ever found myself in that situation. What a hard thing to go through--no matter what decision one ends up making.
I like that your post puts a human face on an issue that, like you said, is often reduced to two very black and white extremes. The conflicted emotions you describe are often not mentioned at all in discussions about abortion.
I hope you have the support you need to help you around this aspect of your life. Though maybe the pain will always be there in some form I hope you also are not beating yourself up about the choice you made that you felt was right for you. First, you were very young, and second, you did what you thought was best. Regret is only useful if it helps you avoid future problems; otherwise, it only makes you feel bad without serving any other real purpose. At least that's how I see it. Thanks for sharing your experience.
i think it is great to talk about this stuff. there has been similar conversations on another blog recently, and it is striking me how many people have had abortions but never talk about it. when i had mine, i told a lot of people, i was determined to try and not feel shame ('try' being the operative word). it was amazing how many women shared their own stories with me - some of them were women i had known for ages but had no idea they had been through the same thing. i think sharing these stories can be really healing.
it is a strange kind of grief, grieving for something that might have been, grieving for being put in the situation where the decision had to be made. i know it is a grief that will be with me forever, and that feels ok.
i call myself pro-choice - but what a choice it is. when you are pregnant and you don't want to be, it doesn't feel like freedom to have to make such a choice.
thanks for talking about this monica.
We'd been married for 3 years, were definately not ready to become parents yet and I had a concert tour coming up. All selfish reasons. Had my husband wanted the baby, I would have definately not gone through with it. I wasn't strong enough by myself though and that's why my guilt is so extreme. The whole process was appalling and I remember wishing that my husband would miraculously burst in and save me and our baby. Pathetic really. Waking up, the pain and emptiness was shocking and I couldn't speak for hours. Didn't want to. I mourned that baby for years, until our first child was born. That pregnancy was also ridden with guilt because I just felt so terrible that this child was wanted and loved but the other one not.
I still can't hear Pachelbel's Canon without feeling a deep sadness because this is the piece I played over and over to our baby to say goodbye.
THAT, Neidlchen, is amazing. After my abortion I played Pachelbel's Canon over and over again. I don't even know how I came upon it... But I had it on a CD and put it on repeat when I went to sleep, when I got ready for work.. ALL the time. Wow.
I got goosebumps reading what you just wrote Monica. Really very strange.
janet
p.s. I hate the semantics of this issue -- I think those who believe that abortion should be outlawed are not pro-life, but the women who choose to have a child they can love and nurture and provide for -- they are the pro-life, pro-lives people.
Still, I was almost 12 weeks at the time and to see my second child on the ultrasound at this same time, so perfect in every way, see him moving and feel him moving just 4 weeks later....this type of guilt will not leave me.
Stephanie
Mine would be 7.
I am not sad about my choice, but I do wonder about the path I didn't take and the child I didn't have.
Mine would be 6