• Foxy

Thoughts Post-Abortion: Was I Knocked Up On Purpose?




If you've been keeping up with FoxyBlogs and my Twitter, you'll know that around the end of January, I discovered I was pregnant and had a medication abortion. I had condom-less sex with a guy and his withdrawal game that night left....a LOT to be desired, I'll put it that way. Anyway, I subsequently cut ties with this person because it became clear that while he was more than okay coming over for some pussy and playing child games during text conversations, coming by my apartment for a couple of hours to make sure that, oh I dunno, I didn't bleed to death while the pregnancy passed out of my body?


Too much to ask for. How DARE I even think of asking for a slither of a feather of basic human empathy, right?



So, a bit of exposition: I'd met said guy about a couple months ago, we'll call him..."Fred".


(Mainly, because...I'm actually not sure what his real name is; he told me, but I forgot it because it's not an easy one to remember. It sounds close to "falafel". I can be notoriously BAD with names. ANYWAY!)


"Fred" and I met, hit it off, hooked up a few times, sometimes using condoms, and sometimes not. On the offending night in question, we didn't use condoms, and after he withdrew, I noticed after about five minutes or so that I was wetter downstairs post-sex than usual. My Love Below© is its own mini-nuclear reactor, and if the sex is good, ya girl has to wipe a couple times in the bathroom afterward, it's like walking around with a soggy diaper on! But this wetness felt a bit thicker, viscous almost, so I look down and swipe the kitten and see...that it's semen.


Eyebrow-raised, I look at "Fred" and ask, "....did you nut in me?" And this asshole looks at me sheepishly and mutters, "Yea, a little." And all I could think at that moment was, "....and you couldn't be bothered to tell me this important bit of info, sir?"


The worrywart in me starts to go off because I remember faintly from my Period Tracker Deluxe app that this weekend is a couple of days after my approximate "fertile window", so I let "Fred" know this, tell that I'll be on the lookout for my period and that if something ELSE occurs, I'll tell him. And, as we all know, something ELSE occurred.




After receiving the positive test result, I made the appointment for the abortion, was able to have a friend of mine go with me, and I texted "Fred" the news about the pregnancy and the impending termination. I make plans with him that he come hang with me for a while either the night of the procedure or the next day when the pregnancy is passing from my body to check on me and ensure things are proceeding normally and to get help in case shit goes left, and he agreed. When I got home after taking the first abortion pill, six hours later I took the second pill, and I texted "Fred" to let him know I'm home and he could come by at any time.


Crickets. "Fred" ain't hit me back. He was nowhere to be found.


Now, I wasn't asking for shit that couldn't be done. I wasn't asking someone who wasn't my man to act like my man; it was a friends-with-benefits arrangement. All I asked was for a muthafucka to fulfill the "friends" part, treat me like a human being and check on me, another human being who supposedly you like, and I couldn't even get that during a very vulnerable time. It was a pretty significant blow, and to understand how some are utterly unable to reciprocate a fraction of basic empathy really made me sad. Luckily, I have friends whom I visited who cared on me and gave me the comfort and empathy I needed to feel like a human being and that I matter, but the entire situation got me thinking:


Was it "Fred"'s intention to sabotage my life?



Now, this might-could be a huge leap, but jump with me for a bit! Because this abortion experience made me recall an earlier time in our arrangement when "Fred" came over to my house. I had given him a condom to use, we had sex, and after he finished and went to use my bathroom, I noticed the condom on the side of my bed, as if it had been worn but taken off at some point during sex; he basically stealthed me. I made a mental note of this, but said nothing to "Fred" about it, and now, having dealt with having an abortion, I can't help but think he was trying to get me pregnant on purpose, ensuring I'd have to humor him in my life, if only because we'd have a child together. That is some soap-opera type shit that I, a person dealing with major depression and anxiety, do NOT have the bandwidth or desire to deal with, nor should I, especially since "Fred" has apparently shown that he's not above using reproductive coercion via stealthing. That's not a person I would be able to trust while having sex, let alone trust to be involved in a child's life.


Hell, since he couldn't be bothered to check on me while my body was aborting the potential life HE helped create along with his nonchalance about taking off condoms during sex and not saying shit to me, thinking he was trying to trap me and ruin my life doesn't feel like such a reach; I'm trying to take into account how men and boys are conditioned to perform manhood along with society's negative connotations with condom usage, but this doesn't excuse his actions---intentional or not--- and his absence ain't a loss.

About Foxy

Independent Journa-Blogger.

Black Feminist Nerd.

Your mom's favorite (sorry, it's her choice).

I write stuff. Hire me to write stuff for you.

EMAIL: Foxy@FoxyJazzabelle.com

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