CARRYOVER HERE'S SITE: therapeutic abortion in Anglo-Saxon EXPERIENCE OF A WOMAN, THE EXAMPLE OF HOW IT IS HANDLED IN A CIVIL an abortion in second trimester of pregnancy. DIARY OF AN ABORTION
From "republic of women" of 09/06/2003.
A woman realizes that the child who waits is affected by Down syndrome. It decided to terminate the pregnancy, the twenty-third week of gestation. Here is his story, from the first ultrasound suspected the painful return to everyday life.
On January 18 my son was born dead after 23 weeks of gestation. It was tiny, perfectly formed and affected by Down syndrome. The decision to terminate the pregnancy we took me and my partner together. Our nightmare began when I was in the classic U.S. mail, to the twentieth week of pregnancy. (...) Finally, the doctor has completed the review and told me that some measures of the child was well below average. And then there were two dots on the heart, two "tentative signs" of Down syndrome. They gave me a brochure and advised to return after four days for a consulto.Sono out of the hospital in shock. My son could have Down syndrome. Or at least a heart condition. All my plans began to collapse. The nursery that I chose for my first-born of two years, maternity leave, the bunk beds, suitable for summer vacations a baby. At a time so that, in my life, I had tried to arrange .... ... Elliot has spent the weekend trying to convince myself that everything would be fine. And the baby was kicking so hard that I started to believe it too. My belly grew and I felt fine. If it were not for those excruciating doubts and persistent.
Then came the fateful Monday and Elliot and I went to the hospital.
The doctor reassured us immediately: would repeat the examination and he was sure it would have been all right. (...) But the committee found elsewhere on the little heart and a few days before the measurements were confirmed. There was reason to worry. Even so, the doctor thought it would be all right. He immediately recommended an amniocentesis to rule out any chromosomal problems. I never thought to undergo an amniocentesis. I was young, I did not think I would servita.Se I had been given before, I'm sure I would have talked for hours, before making a decision. Instead, within ten minutes I found myself lying on a bed, waiting. No discussion, no debate. I'd just done. I felt a horrible feeling. All my instincts may help protect the stomach, but I let someone with a big bucarmela August I had to force myself not to tear away with violence. It did not seem right. The results are disclosed gradually. The first, which tells you if your child suffers from Down syndrome, is ready after only three days, or any other chromosomal problems can not be ruled out before three weeks. So we went home: I have set aside, to avert a possible miscarriage, while Elliot was trying to cheer both. (...) The third day we received a phone call. I was sitting on the couch I was working. Samuel was at nursery and Elliot in the bathroom. It was another doctor who told me: "I am afraid I have bad news. Does your child suffers from Down syndrome. " Somehow, I managed to get up and reach the toilet and break the news to Elliot. We had to rush to hospital immediately. Have collapsed. (...) I was able to tell my mother, who immediately offered to come to the hospital with us. Upon arrival, showed us a small room. I noticed the box of tissues on the table was not a good sign. The doctor showed us the letter with the results of laboratory tests. There was really written "Down syndrome".
was all true. The doctor told us it was just a matter of luck because, as far as I know, there was nothing genetic. Then he told us what it would mean for the child. Life expectancy: 30 or 40 years. It was never able to take care of himself. Probably would always have health problems. Then he switched to explain what he meant to Samuel, who until then had been a healthy child happy with a little brother like that, his childhood would have been completely disrupted. Even Elliot and I'd have a very different life than we had ever imagined.
I understood immediately what was the right decision to make. And I assumed that Elliot would have agreed with me.
had to terminate the pregnancy. (...) I did not consider mechanisms related to the termination of a pregnancy already well advanced, but we thought it was an intervention. I would have done anesthesia and wake up I would never been pregnant. But no. I should have taken some pills, under the supervision of a nurse. Then, three days later, I had to go in the delivery room , the same one where I was supposed to go after two and a half months. And there I gave birth to my baby. obliged to send off that horrible pill was the hardest thing I've ever gotten to do. (...) I sent compressed down that evil and we went home, taking a long walk. The baby was kicking happy, not knowing what I had done. The ultimate betrayal. We did not know how to drag for the next two days. It was as if I and elliptical we were in a kind of limbo. We could not talk about what was happening. We could not say I lost the baby because he was still inside me that was kicking, but we could not even pretend that everything was fine. We holed up at home. I tried not to sit motionless for too long, not realizing she was carrying dell'esserino. The nights, then, were impossible. We talked until dawn, watching any crap on TV. To all the time our son has continued to surge, and I felt like an assassin waiting to strike the fatal blow. I had always considered to be kicked in the belly as one of the strongest emotions never experienced. In those days, however, every move was tantamount to a tortura.Il power available to us was making us crazy. Elliot and I could decide not to live that creature. We were denying him the right to life. It was a power too great for us, we were not.
Who did not know what was really happening was sure we were doing the right thing.
(...) We were saving pain and suffering to my son. Abortion would nevertheless have prevented a worse tragedy. It would be a blow to me and Elliot, nothing more. But it was really the right choice? I had no clue. For five months my body had known that something was wrong, but I had always felt great: I was not so sure I can trust my instincts. I just knew that I was a dog. Then came Saturday. My mother has made very early to take care of Samuel Elliot and I we took a taxi to go to hospital. As I walked into the delivery room, I was hoping to meet someone who told me: "Go home, six of sixteen weeks in advance." But nobody told me anything. Instead, an obstetrician accompanied us in a room not far from the delivery room and told us what would have happened. The poor girl had tears in my eyes and I felt responsible. Soon after came the gynecologist with the tablets that would induce the birth. He then listed the different types of pain that I could choose, I opted for a morphine drip.
And so began the best day of my life absurd. The contractions were begun almost immediately and within an hour I broke the water.
hoping that everything will be resolved quickly but in fact I had to wait another 11 hours before the baby was born. I know I could give birth in fourth time, but I could not stand the idea that his body abandoned mine. I could not push. As it was painful and traumatic childbirth, it would be better than what I expected after that. So I stayed in bed next to me with Elliot. Have occurred and three midwives I spoke with each of them the same things. We had to decide what to do with little body soon after birth. Both me and my partner we thought it would be a good idea to take something positive from an experience so traumatic, perhaps using the body for scientific purposes. But none of us could openly express the concept. We were not able to use those terms. (...) At
seven in the evening I had not given birth. After a while, 'the midwife whispered softly, "I think at this point we should give birth to the child." I knew I had no way out. It took 20 minutes to push it out, and all this time Elliot and I have done nothing but cry, unable to control us. (...)
Later I saw the baby and close the arms. Elliot kept us very much. I did not know what was right or wrong and I listened.
Now I thank God I did. Our baby was beautiful. He looked like a lot to Samuel from piccolo.Gli I immediately loved him and I would never want to leave. We returned home a couple of hours later. Come to think of now, I do not know how we did. Probably the morphine I did assist. The following weeks were very strange. We did cremate the baby. Nobody was there and we had no function. We scattered his ashes on some snowdrops. At first, I had to deal with the implications of childbirth. I had arrived even milk, which seemed to last an eternity. In fact, he's gone two weeks after the cremation. Another cruel twist of fate. Now I'm coming to terms with what has happened to me. I just feel very unlucky. I feel a deep hatred for pregnant women and a large respect for infertile couples. For them, life in this world of ours, it must be unbearable. Just look around, and do not see nothing but future mothers. Happily ever after. It 'impossible to escape them, and each one seems to want to emphasize your loss.
(...) I realized that being a good person is a luxury that not everyone can afford. That can be good only if you are happy and generous. You can not show himself to be deeply unhappy and kind to others. Because when you're angry with the world, you are forced to endure such a thing, you begin to hate even the people who inhabit it. And tend to give them the blame for everything. The question "why me?" Is often used. Perché a me e non a te, brutto bastardo? Come ho già detto, in questo periodo non sono un granchè simpatica. Non mi sorprende che le persone non sappiamo come trattarmi.
Mi sono impegnata tantissimo nelle opere di beneficenza, soprattutto a favore dei bambini malati.
Non serve ad alleviare il senso di colpa, ma non saprei cos’altro fare. (...)
So che la ferita è ancora aperta. E so che non posso accelerare il processo di guarigione. Ma è brutto stare sempre così male.Vorrei solo tornare ad avere una vita normale. Non voglio essere etichettata come vittima. Voglio gioire ancora con mio figlio, senza alcuna riserva. Voglio smettere di avere incubi. Voglio tornare a essere felice, buona e gentile. E voglio rimanere di nuovo incinta.
(Testo raccolto da Rolph Gobits The Guardian)
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