Quote:
Originally Posted by
swingersx2
A person of your calibre easily earns at least $5k per month. It is difficult to believe that someone earning $800 per month can possibly write and express himself or herself so well.
I like writing. I like expressing myself through words. I think I write fairly well. But I didn’t study when I had the opportunity to. I gave up the chance to study because I just didn’t want to. So I don’t even have a diploma or a degree. I am stuck working in a stingy relative’s company who thinks that since we are family, I should not be calculative about money matters so I am paid by the hour, with no CPF or medisave contribution.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Xia406
I’m sorry to hear that kristin18, but whoever this K fellow is.. he is not a man. And since he is a friend of A, I suppose he is in his 30s too?
Yes, he is in his 30s too.
The days that followed were both a mental & physical torture. As I entered my ninth week of pregnancy, the morning sickness just got worse. I took my medicine on time, but it was of no use at all. I was tired very easily & would often head to bed early, though I would be left tossing & turning as sleep did not come easy for me. It didn’t help that my parents were growing more suspicious by day, questioning why I had become such a homely person when it was not like me at all. I cited the excuse that I was unwell, but how long could I be unwell for? How long more could I lie to them?
There was once the morning sickness got so bad that I nearly passed out. Randomly, suddenly, my world just started spinning & my vision started to blur. I was perspiring cold sweat & my whole body felt weak. Within the next few seconds I dashed to the nearest staircase lobby to sit down. I felt so fucking awful. I thought of all ways to make myself have a miscarriage. I even hoped that I would suddenly find myself bleeding but that didn’t happen.
I was also an emotional wreck. For no rhyme or reason, I’d text H & E telling them about how fucked up this felt, how none of them would understand how I feel, how desperate I am to just head to a private clinic & get the abortion done asap. They didn’t bother to comfort me much, but then again, what did I expect? They weren’t obliged to, anyway. They asked me, since I wanted so badly for the abortion to be done quickly, why don’t I just head to a private clinic instead of whining about it. I told them, because I don’t fucking have the money to do the abortion privately, but I was so desperate at that moment that I would do anything for money so that I can get this over & done with asap.
H & E are not rich, but they are both financially stable & hold jobs that are quite well-paying. They are able to spend at least 3-4k a month on leisure & entertainment. I didn’t know how to open my mouth to ask them for a loan, so I hinted to them that the private surgery would cost around less than 1k. I didn’t have that kind of cash, of course. They kept quiet. I told them that I was just this close to borrowing from loansharks already. It was not something I wanted but I had no choice. They asked me why couldn’t I wait out till three weeks later to have the abortion at the government hospital.
I was going crazy. Why couldn’t they understand where I was coming from? Why couldn’t they understand how painful this was for me & how waiting would be cruelly torturous to me? Why couldn’t they just spare me a few hundreds? I would be eternally grateful if they were both able to just lend me $200 or even $100. But they weren’t willing. Instead, they chose to keep quiet when I complained to them. They insisted that I should wait for my appointment with the government hospital.
That was when I knew that they were just fair weather friends – nothing more. When they needed money for their own leisure & entertainment, I did not hesitate in transferring the money to them. Even though it was only $100 to them, to me it was considered a lot. But I took them as true friends. & now that I needed money urgently, they could not even be bothered. That added to my misery. I cried every night alone in my bedroom. Although H & E said that they would be there for me throughout this ordeal, I knew that I was actually all alone in this. Although they said they would help me in any possible way they could, I knew those were words said just to reassure me.
I lay in bed every night, thinking of how to raise the money. I don’t know if this is possible or if it was just a mere hallucination, but every night when I put my hand to my tummy, I would feel my baby’s heartbeat. I felt two hearts beating simultaneously, which was why I was positive that one was mine, & the other, my baby’s. I still spoke to my baby every night. I wondered how he/she would turn out to be like. I imagined having he/she with me, going through the rest of my life with me. I liked the thought of that, but it just wasn’t possible & I knew it. I realized that there was now a deeper connection between me & the little thing growing inside me, because of the daily one-sided conversations I was having with him/her. & that pained me even more because I knew that soon I was gonna take away this little life. I was gonna kill my own baby.
Up till today, I don’t know how I managed to go through the seven days after my last appointment at the government hospital. To be frank, it was the longest seven days of my life. Thankfully, that week was also my payday, but I only had $8xx to spare. I started to research online for an abortion with a private clinic which would cost me less than $800.
There were hardly any clinics that did an abortion for that kind of price. Most allowed partial payment via medisave, & even though my sister had kindly given her permission for me to use her medisave, the clinics informed me that I could only use either my parents’ or husband’s medisave. So that wasn’t a considerable option for me.
I found a clinic which stated that an abortion below nine weeks would cost $450, all-inclusive. I contacted the clinic, but they had already revised their price to $550 for a pregnancy under nine weeks, all-inclusive. A pregnancy at nine weeks would cost $650, at ten weeks it would be $750, & so on. So I made an appointment at that clinic. They ensured that they would be able to carry out the surgery on the same day as the abortion. I was relieved.
So one week after my appointment at the government hospital, I finally went through with the abortion surgery.
Sorry for the late update. I was hesitant to post this update because it meant that I had to recall the memories & it still hurt, a little, today. But it’s not right for me to keep you guys hanging as well. So here it goes.
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I reached the private clinic at 9:00am even though my appointment was at 9:30am. I hadn’t had anything to eat for the whole morning because I was told to fast. I wasn’t feeling hungry, but I was thirsty for sure. I loitered outside the clinic for awhile, & at 9:15am, I entered the clinic.
There were three or four middle-aged women behind the reception counter. One of them asked me what I was here for, & I responded that I had an appointment that morning at 9:30am. They immediately knew I was here for an abortion. They explained the procedure to me, explained the cost to me, took my blood pressure & weight, then passed me two medicines – one was panadol for the pain relief, the other was an antibiotic. After all of that, I was asked to wait because the doctor wasn’t in yet.
There was another Malay girl in the clinic as well. I deduced that she was also here for an abortion based on the conversation she had with the nurse/receptionist. A few others came into the clinic after me. I was surprised that there were, in total, five ladies who were there for an abortion. One was a China lady, one was an ah lian, one was a minah, one was me & the other was the Malay lady. The difference between me & them? They all had someone there to accompany them. I was alone. I texted H, who was still sleeping. She’d initially agreed to be with me on this day but I guess she’d overslept. Well, she wasn’t obliged to accompany me anyway, so I decided to just gather all the courage I had to face this alone.
It was a long wait for the doctor. I was nervous, hungry, thirsty & cranky. I waited four hours for the doctor because he was caught up at the hospital. By the time it was my turn, H had already arrived (she forgot about the appointment & overslept but managed to be there in time because the clinic was near her place). The consultation with the doctor was a fast one. He asked some standard questions, then proceeded to do a quick ultrasound scan to confirm that I was indeed nine weeks pregnant. I saw my foetus for the second time. My heart broke a little inside. This time, when the doctor asked me if I wanted a photo of the ultrasound scan, I was quick to say no.
The doctor explained to me how the abortion would be carried out before I left his room. The nurses outside passed me two painkillers to take & asked me if I was going to go for local anaesthesia or general anaesthesia. General meant that I would be asleep throughout the whole procedure; local meant that I would be awake & conscious but I will be given a jab down under to make sure I don’t feel pain. I asked the nurse whether being on local would be painful. She said the entire procedure would just feel like menses cramps, but I knew she was just trying to convince me that it wouldn’t be painful. The nurse told me that if I were to go on GA, I would have to rest/sleep in the clinic for a good four hours or so before I could be well enough to go home. H told me she didn’t want to wait so long for me. She asked me to go on LA instead.
H: “(to the nurse) Okay lah she will go on LA lah, no need to ask anymore. (to me) Quickly go up & get it done lah.”
With nothing left to say, I made my way upstairs where the surgery would take place.
It was quite dark upstairs. There were two rooms – one was the surgery room which looked somewhat like a dentist’s room. The other was the “recovery room” where patients were to rest after the surgery before going home. The rest of the girls were already in the recovery room waiting. I chose a bed to lie down on while waiting for the doctor. This was the longest wait of my life. I shivered a little, unsure of what to expect. The rest of them looked calm as hell. Only the China girl looked as uneasy as I felt. (I learnt earlier that they were both China students & could not afford to get pregnant, hence an abortion was necessary)
I waited for half an hour. While the rest of the girls brought their phones up to use while waiting, I didn’t know that we were allowed to so I left all my belongings downstairs with H. For the last time, I spoke to my baby. I put my hand to my tummy. “Baby, I know this is probably the worst decision I could ever make. Mummy knows that no matter how many times I apologise, it is not going to be enough. But that is all I can offer you as Mummy is not ready to keep you right now. Sorry baby…….. Mummy is really sorry………”
My heart ached. I really just wanted to get this over & done with as soon as possible. The wait was killing me.
Amidst all the random PMs I’ve got asking me to club together, or to meet up for some fun, I have received PMs from some readers who have left me some really nice messages. Although I don’t reply much, I do read them, so thank you for the endless encouragement =)
Before I continue with the story of what happened during the surgery, I just thought I’d share what’s been happening lately.
K reappeared all of a sudden. Out of the blue, he liked one of my photos on Facebook. & it was the photo of me taken with a few kids (none of them my own, of course). Ever since we became friends on Facebook, there was never any interactions between us, except when I tagged him in a few party photos we took at the clubs. So I was obviously shocked when I saw that notification, but thought nothing of it anyway.
Then this morning, I woke up to a Facebook message from K. He requested for me to remove a photo on Facebook. That was a photo taken sometime back, when we were still close, before this whole shit happened, with just both of us in the picture (quite close actually). Many of his friends left comments like “you and your girlfriend look so cute in this photo”. We ignored all the comments back then of course because we weren’t even a couple.
But this morning he sent me a message saying that there was something about this photo that made him feel sort of uncomfortable deep in his heart, & asked if I could do him a favour by removing it.
I contemplated replying him with a “why should I?” or maybe something more spiteful like “so what if you feel uncomfortable? I don’t care”……. Many different possible replies ran through my mind. I even wanted to update my status with something like “why should I care about how you feel about my photo(s) when you never ever cared about how I felt? & why should I listen to you or help/do you a favour when you want me to?” I was so, so angry. I couldn’t concentrate on work at all. I thought about it for a long time, & ultimately decided to just ignore the message completely. There was no need to reply him, I figured.
But what happened this morning kind of dampened my spirits a little. Don’t know why, & don’t know how best to explain how I’m feeling either……. Just haven’t been feeling too good ever since receiving his message this morning. Maybe it’s just the anger that’s making me feel moody……..
Dun fret over it…he isn’t worth a sec of your emotion.
And if you really must reply. Just send him the same sad face that he sent you when you first told him abt your pregnancy.
look at the front… dont think back… the sun still rises.. the world wont stop turning just becos of us
hope you can walk out of the nightmare, i believe there will be someone in your life to lift you up when you are down.
take care
Continuing my story on the day of the surgery………..
Forty minutes later, the nurse finally came upstairs. She looked at all five of us before pointing to me, telling me “okay, you’ll go first.” I don’t know if that was a good or bad thing, but I guess in a way it was good because I didn’t need to wait anymore. The wait was really agonizing.
She led me to the surgery room. I didn’t even need to take off my skirt, she just asked me to remove my underwear & lie down. My legs were spread open, & were resting on two “raised arms” (I don’t know how to describe it). The nurse held down one of my legs, & the other one was tied to the “arm”, probably to prevent me from moving/fidgeting & hence affecting the surgery.
This was when the fear really started to kick in. This was when I really wished I was on GA instead. It felt exactly like a scene from a drama serial, except that this was ten times more real. The doctor came in & got the surgical instruments ready. I stole a glance at the surgical instruments & I nearly fainted. Took many deep breaths & told myself to stay strong while I felt the touch of a cold metal surface at my vagina. I shivered a little. The nurse asked me to relax.
I suddenly felt a tug at my vagina. The doctor explained that he was just cleaning up my vagina, which meant that the actual procedure hadn’t started yet. But I was already starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. A couple of minutes later, I felt a sharp pain – this was the LA jab. Then the procedure started. There was something inserted in my vagina, but I didn’t know what it was. Though my vision was not blocked, I could not bring myself to see anything. I closed my eyes throughout. The nurse reassured me that this whole thing would be over in five minutes.
A machine was turned on. This machine sounded exactly like that of a vacuum cleaner. No, it sounded scarier than that. & this machine was what was sucking my baby out of me. Up till today, I cannot forget how it sounded like. I felt my womb contract. I felt the most painful cramps any girl could ever go through. This wasn’t menses cramps, this was nowhere near the pain of menses cramps. It was so painful that I couldn’t even cry; I couldn’t even make any noise. I can only remember repeating to myself “relax, take deep breaths, relax, take deep breaths”. But nothing helped. By then I was shivering very badly. My whole body was quivering, I could hardly stay still & the nurse had to hold my legs down. Thinking I was cold, she got me something to cover myself with. But I wasn’t cold. I was scared, & I was in so much pain.
“We’re halfway there…… 50% done…….”, said the doctor. I nearly passed out from the pain. It felt as if my uterus was being pulled at, tugged at, & squeezed very, very tightly.
“75% done…….”, said the doctor. I wanted to reply him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t form any words. I opened my mouth but nothing came out of it. I could only groan in pain. My breathing became uneven. I felt as if I wasn’t in control of my own body anymore because it was reacting to the pain, & even though I kept trying to take steady, deep breaths, my body just wouldn’t listen to me.
“90% done……. Just clearing the last bit & making sure that it is really empty…..”, said the doctor. The pain increased in intensity. I felt like I was gonna die. After what seemed like eternity, the machine was turned off. I felt the surgical instrument leave my vagina. The nurse put on a pad which seemed somewhat like a diaper for me & helped me up. I was giddy, in a daze, & very weak. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the surgical instruments used & the contents of the dustbin. Very bloody. Very disturbing.
I forced my eyes away. Slowly put on my underwear. The nurse instructed me to rest in the recovery room & only make my way downstairs when I was feeling better. I staggered into the recovery room & collapsed on the bed, letting out soft groans of pain. I curled up onto the bed. The cramps were really bad. I couldn’t even cry, as much as I wanted to. The other girls stared at me. I wanted to tell them that they made the right choice by going under GA. That was truly the longest five minutes of my life, ever.
I tossed & turned in pain for the next fifteen minutes before making my way downstairs, where I collapsed onto H. She asked me how was it, & I could only reply with one word: “pain”. I guess at that point I should have been relieved that it was all finally over & my life could finally go back to normal, but even though the foetus was no longer inside me, there was still a dull ache in my heart that hadn’t gone away……..
sad to hear your story sis. but nonetheless it’s a good story. hope to read future updates on a happier note.