Think. Choose. Stay Safe

My life pretty much used to be a case of ‘speeding down the highway without your brains’ if I am not being too critical about who I was then. Just recently, a memory came to me that left me very sad, I couldn’t believe that was me. But it was. The memory was of me in the public washroom of a gas station, with 3 pregnancy test kits lined up on the dirty sink showing exactly what I was praying not to see. Could two give me a single bar at least? Six red bars stared back at me and I wanted to die right there in that smelly place. I felt miserable, my ever-overthinking mind started racing ahead, thinking of what exactly to do.

The kind of vigilance a woman has when she suspects she might be pregnant is attached to some sort of pain when that suspected pregnancy is unplanned and unwanted. She monitors herself, noticing yet refusing to notice her changing body, inside-out.  I remember weeks back, I stayed glued on the water closet for close to an hour after I’d noticed yet another sign that I was most probably pregnant. That unexplained bleeding, sort of a smear of it that your doctor will tell you is implantation bleeding? Yes, that one. Proof, that something had lodged itself in me, and that thing was not just another human, but also a big mistake.

So that morning, I had an interview to attend, but my first experience of morning sickness led me straight to the pharmacy for the pregnancy test kits the moment I stepped out. I didn’t have the heart to wait till I got back to do it, and besides, I did not want to do it at home anyway.  I had to know, I had to be sure. So I walked to the gas station close by and proceeded to their public washroom. And there, weak from all the retching I’d done earlier, and absolutely no food in my stomach, I managed to pee on the sticks. Positive. Positive. Positive.

My thoughts were scattered. This was not the plan! I could not be pregnant. How was I going to explain to my parents that “well, yes I am pregnant but I do not have a boyfriend or anything. You see, he’s just a friend, but we also happen to have sex sometimes, which is okay with us, it’s no big deal.” It was not the plan! But now I think back and ask…if that was not the plan, then what was? And was I, were we, abiding by the rules of that other plan? The ‘Don’t get pregnant’ plan?

Being sexually active comes with an added need to be careful and thorough about your choices. There I was, pregnant and not sure how to break the news to this friend I couldn’t clearly define, and regretting all the carelessness I had employed in that relationship. Thinking further back to the unprotected encounter that got me pregnant, I was sure it was safe. I remember he asked and I said it was. Nevertheless, after, my instincts told me to take some emergency pills, but I didn’t.

I wasn’t on regular pills, injectables, or any modern contraceptive. Not even condoms. Nothing. Reckless, is the word. It was not just him I was occasionally with too, there were others, of equal undefinable statuses.

I did break the news to him eventually, and well, it was not pleasant as suspected. ‘Father’ was not in his plans just as ‘mother’ was not in mine. The next thing that happened was a shut down. I shut down completely, closing myself off from everyone, beating myself up for how foolish I’d been. I hardly ate, I binge-drank... Two weeks and some days later, I miscarried. I will spare you the details… 

But no woman, no woman should ever go through that!

I am sharing this today because I made some new choices along the line that have changed me. OUR CHOICES MAKE US. Another reason is that I am in a better position to assess that me and her actions, as well as the consequences those actions came with. Also, recently, thinking back left me unsure how to feel. Staring at the degree of risks I had exposed myself to because I did not live according to my choices, and by that I mean not staying safe in whatever choice I had made, left me weak in the knees.

The me now, is celibate because of the choices she has made. Religious choices. I will remain celibate because I had choices, and I chose this. And whoever has made a similar choice should be respected, just as the one who has made the choice to be sexually active with partner A or partner B or partners ABC, also should. However, my advice is to be fully aware what any choice at all comes with. If I had stayed ‘woke’, I would have protected myself. Getting pregnant, going through all those emotions, telling my folks, the emotional trauma of a life suddenly changed, the decision-making process (to keep or not to keep), the acceptance of that change, the bonding, and then the shock of losing it, and having to explain beyond doubt that you had nothing to do with it, the pain, the near-death experience, all of that, could have been avoided. Belatedly, I thought of all the diseases I exposed myself to. Yes, I’ve had an STI once, thank God it was curable. That did not teach me to ‘get used to condoms’ anyway. Bottom line is, I was not living my choices with my safety in mind, I wasn’t living my choices loving myself, and I almost died because of it.

By all means, make a choice. Empowerment is in you having choices, and the freedom to pick one and not the other. This, over another. So by all means, make a conscious choice. CONSCIOUS choice, I say. Made by you, well thought out by you! And when you do start living that choice, love yourself in the process. You’d protect yourself, if you love yourself, you’d know when A or B can harm you and so stay away, if you love yourself.

So…

THINK. CHOOSE. STAY SAFE.

About the Author:

The Author of this post wishes to remain anonymous, and Sista respects her decision.