“If you don’t know how to manage pain by dissolving it or letting go, it infects the future”

5

“If you don’t know how to manage pain by dissolving it or letting go, it infects the future”

 

 

            I laid in bed listening to the CD that was playing thinking about Shame. I started to reminisce on how we met and the things that we did. I can’t believe I’m in this position of having this baby or not having it. I have always believed that you had to have respect and morals for yourself. And me, I have those same values.  Selfish as it sounds… I have a good head on my shoulders and I believe that Shame could be a good father. I mean, I have noticed his love for kids. He has shared so many of his dreams with me and I have faith in everything that he wants to do. But last night, last night it seemed as if everything in my world collapsed. My dreams revolving around Shame were beginning to fade. I so much wanted to feel him and make love to him. I wanted everything to be okay between us… I thought to myself as tears trickled down my face while looking at our picture.

            “We have come a long way baby” I said to myself. Just to let you know, our journey is still not at the end. The miles that we will travel; I know our road will never end. Our life together may have just begun, but the decision of me keeping this baby hasn’t. I’m holding on to this secret for eternity I sighed as I thought to myself placing the picture back on my dresser.

            “You ready?” Kenya said as she walked into my bedroom.

“I guess I am… I mean.  I know once I get there, there will be no turning back.”

            “You know you don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to Mya.” Kenya said.

            Sighing, I got up from the bed and grabbed my overnight bag. “No Kenya, this is what I want. I can’t deal with Shame and sharing the father of my child with his crazy ass ex. I just can’t put my child through the bullshit… neither can I put myself through it. It’s not of its worth.” I said walking out of my bedroom ahead of her.

            Looking at me for reassurance, Kenya turned off my lights and TV and headed for the front door. “Well— I’ll be in the car” she stated closing the door behind her.

—–

            After we arrived in Atlanta, Kenya pulled up to the abortion clinic on Mercer University Drive; minutes after finding an available parking spot, we got out the car and walked up to the building.

            “You know you can always change your mind Yemya” Kenya whispered as we walked through the glass doors into the lobby.

            “I didn’t make it this far for no reason Kenya” I said as I walked to the front desk. “I do appreciate you for coming and supporting me on making this decision.

            “I’m just saying” she stated.

“Really, I appreciate it and I’m going to go through with this Kenya” I said approaching the front desk, I stood at the open window waiting to be assisted.

            “Hi can I help you today” the blonder hair and blue eyed nurse said.

Clearing my throat “Umm yes, I had an appointment with Dr. Susan McCullough today at 2:15”

            “Name please?”

“Yemya Smith”

            “Ooh-kay. Date of birth.” She asked as she keyed in my information.

“June 29th, 1988” I stated as I watch her key in my birthdate. “How long with the wait be?” I questioned.

            “Dr. McCullough is usually quick with her procedures. You shouldn’t have to wait no more than thirty-minutes. How far a long are you Miss Smith?”

            “I’m thirteen weeks…” Just by hearing myself say how many weeks I am pregnant made me realize what I am about to face. Here I am in Atlanta in an abortion clinic registering to kill a baby that I’ve been carrying for thirteen weeks…

            “Okay Miss. Smith just fill-out this paper work” She said as she handed me the clip board “And also sign this consent form please then Dr. McCullough will be right with you.”

            “Okay thanks” I said as I turned to walk towards the sitting area.  After filling out the paper work and turning the clip board back in. I sat next to Kenya in the waiting room waiting on my name to be called.

            “Yemya Smith” the nurse came into lobby saying my name.

Getting up, Kenya and I both walked to where she was standing and followed her into the rooms inside the clinic.

            Walking into a clean small room in the hospital; looking around, I noticed the posters hanging with pictures of women organs and information on a fetus. Noticing the gloves that were placed on the counters along with the necessary items needed; I turned and looked at the chubby nurse as she cleared her throat and said “Miss Smith, can you please strip down and put on this robe. Have you eaten today?”

            “No ma’am… I haven’t”

“Ok, good. Dr. McCullough will be with you shortly to discuss any further information with you about an abortion. Is there anyone here with you who will be here after the procedure?” She asked looking at me then at Kenya.

            “Umm yea, my sister JaKenya Griffin” I said as I pointed at Kenya.

“Nice to meet you” Kenya stated shaking the nurse hand.

            “Great, well Miss Griffin, when it’s time to take her to the back for surgery; you can take a seat to the lobby and someone will come get you when she is taken to recovery.”

            “Will do” Kenya stated closing the door behind the short stubby nurse as she stepped out of the room. “Sooo”

            “So what?” I said as I slowly started to peel away my clothes, folding them up and placing them in a nearby chair.

            Stepping towards me, Kenya bent down and began to rub my belly. “Ugh I can’t believe you are not keeping it” she said as she placed her hand on my bare belly. “Goodbye lil one.”

            I sighed at the thought of going through what I am about to go through with. I fought back my tears not wanting Kenya to notice my true feelings. Then she’ll try to talk me into keeping it for sure. Stepping away from Kenya’s hand, I pulled on the robe and tied it up. “Kenya please don’t do that…”

            “Do what? I was just telling the baby bye…” she said sarcastically.

“You make me feel bad by doing that…” I stated as I sat back on the hospital bed.

            “You will only feel bad if you feel guilty about doing something that you feel is wrong Yemya… So do you?”

            “Do I what?” I asked.

“Do you feel guilty? You are about to go through an abortion in a matter of minutes Mya. There’s no turning back…”

            “I know that Kenya. Damn I thought you were here for moral support… not to nag me and make me feel bad. Yes I feel guilty by me just…”

            Before I was about to get emotional Dr. McCullough knocked on the door and let herself in. Standing about 5’8 with dark hair and a shade of emerald green eyes; she looked as if she was in her early 40’s. “Hi Miss. Smith, I’m Susan McCullough I’ll be the doctor doing the aborting procedure today. How are you?”

            “I fine” I stated “This is my sister JaKenya Griffin”

“Kenya please” Kenya nonchalantly stated.

            “Hi Kenya” She said as she held her hand out to shake Kenya hand. Looking over my charts and information she had, she sat on the stool next to me. “Miss. Smith, it says here that this will be your first abortion. Is that correct?”

            “Yes ma’am it is.” I said nervously.

“Usually we wouldn’t want people as young as you are to go through an abortion. Reason being, in your case, you haven’t had your first child yet. Are you sure that this is something that you want to do?” She asked.

            “I am positive…” I was starting to get annoyed by being question on my decision. If this was something that I didn’t want then I wouldn’t be here.

            After going over the procedure, Dr. Susan informed me on the pain medication and misoprostol in preparation of the procedure. Minutes after removing my clothes and putting on the gown that was given to me. I sat in the hospital room contemplating. I thought about Shame and the things that I was going through in order to make our relationship work. Those gut feelings that every woman have made me feel otherwise. As much as I wanted to bring a child into this world, I felt as if I was going to be alone. Shame still has some growing up to do as a man. Having two kids and no future… it will only be harder on me.

            “I’m doing the right thing…” I whispered to myself.

“You okay” Kenya asked, looking as if she could read my mind. Bending over, she gave me the tightest hug. And that was when my tears fell. “Let it out baby girl… let it all out” she said as she caressed my back.

            “I don’t want to go through with this Kenya. But I have to; I have to do it for me.” I said in between my sobs.

            Walking to the nearby counter Kenya grabbed a few pieces of cleanex from the box and brought them over to me. “You are a strong woman Yemya. You have been raped, you have been lied to, and you have been hurt. You have endured a lot as a teenager. Don’t you ever feel like your situations and decisions only bring you to mistakes. Let this better you. You hear me… this is coming from your sister. Regardless if you decided to keep it or not God loves you.”

            I looked at my sister as I dabbed my eyes with the cleanex. I was prepared to make the biggest decision of my life. Without anyone knowing that I was pregnant. After today, I was going to live my life as different woman by letting go of my past.

            Knocking on the door and then entering, Dr. McCullough asked Kenya to leave the room and will let her know when I was in recovery.

            “You will lie on your back with your feet in stirrups and a speculum is inserted to open the vagina. Stacy who is our anesthetic is here to administer to your cervix. This is a tenaculum” Dr. Susan said as she held the silver tool up for me to see. “It is used to hold the cervix in place for the cervix to be dilated by cone shaped rods. When the cervix is wide enough, a cannula, which is a long plastic tube connected to a suction device, is inserted into the uterus to suction out the fetus and placenta. Do you understand… Miss Smith.”

            Nodding my head in agreement, I laid back with my legs propped up on the table feeling a since of shame and guilt. I inhaled deep. “The procedure usually lasts 10-15 minutes, but recovery may require staying at the clinic for a few hours. A nurse will notify you sister when you are in recovery.

            “Ok…” I said. “What are the side effects?” I inquired.

“Well, the common side effects the most women experience is cramping. You may feel a bit nauseated and a little faint but it will eventually ware off.” Clearing her throat and sitting her chart down on the nearby counter. Dr. Susan prepared to get ready to prep me for surgery as she continued to speak about the side effects. “Then there are the side effects that are less frequent…”

            “And those are…?” I asked. Afraid of what her answer would be. From the way it sounds, it puts me in mind of my vagina getting slaughtered.

            “Well these effects can possibly heavy bleeding, damage to the cervix… We are going to scrape away the fetus. The head would be grabbed by the stirrups and will use the stirrups to crush the fetus head. Afterwards, we will suck away the remaining particles of the fetus.”

            Minutes later, Dr. Susan voice seemed to fade away. I felt myself seep and out of conscious Last thing I remember seeing was lights….

—–

April 25th, 2007

      I came to the conclusion that I feel like I can’t live without you. I know that I said that I was going to break things off with you, but that was only a threat. Shame in spite of the struggles and hard times; I wouldn’t choose no one else to go thru them with but you. Baby, I’m not going anywhere… I promise. You have my love regardless of what happens between us, my heart belongs to you. I know that things can get crazy between us. I don’t want you to leave me and I don’t want to leave you. Man I swear this is the best, you’re the best and it can’t get any better than this.

Yemya

 

            Closing my memoir, I decided to hit Shame up. I wanted to make amends with this relationship. Especially after I underwent an abortion behind his back, he deserves to have chance. In reality, I shouldn’t let what other people say determine my relationship with him. That can be a down fall and I am slowly learning to know that. Everyone have so much to say about the next bitch and what she is doing to my man. Even my own damn friends running up and out of the mouth with the he-say she-say shit.

            Picking up my journal and cell phone, I walked to my living room and sat down on my couch. Scanning the room for the remote, I saw it sitting on the end table near the love seat. As much as I thought about getting up to get it, I decided against it. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Shame number hoping that he wouldn’t send me to voice mail. Just when I was about to hang up he answered.

            “Hello…” Shame said into the phone as if he was already annoyed.

“What’s up Shame…?” I asked hoping that the conversation wouldn’t just stop right there.

            “Shit Mya… just chillin over Tony house… wat’s up wit you?” he asked.

“Nothing” I said as I propped my feet up on the couch. “I was just thinking about you… thinking about us you know.”

            “Thinking about us Yemya… you wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout us a couple of days ago when I came to yo’ spot…”

            “Look Shame! You have no idea what it is like to have motherfucka’s in your ear telling you that your man is out digging in broads pussy…” I sighed into the phone.

            “The part I’m trippin ‘bout is dat you believed it…” Shame said with much sarcasm in his voice.

            “I don’t know what to believe Shame… I go days without hearing from you. Nights without you hitting me up to come over or say you are on your way. What the fuck you think I’m supposed to believe? Shit, you hit me up only when it is only convenient for you!”

            “You make me hit you up when it’s convenient… all dat believing in what otha bitches got to say is a turn off Yemya. A turn off… I’ve been pleading my case wit you. Crazy part about it is dat you know dat I love you…”

            Holding phone against my ear… I breathed into the phone; I still didn’t know what to think about us. Unsure that what Shame was saying was convincing or not… I decided against the feeling in my gut and went with the lust in my mind for Shame. “Look Shame, I love you too. I have done enough thinking about us. I just be feeling like I needed to do what is best for me. I mean… I didn’t want to end up like some female falling into misery from lost love over a niggah.”

            I knew that I couldn’t let this relationship with Shame go so easy. I had to maintain my strength as a woman and take back what belonged to me. Question is; do we as women deserve better? Or did I get so comfortable to the point where I felt like I needed Shame? As much as I knew that he was cheating, part of me couldn’t put it past him; and the other half wanted to deal with him and the rumors. Shame was all I knew as far as I was concerned. The only dude I was fucking. I mean I would talk to other niggahs as far as being entertained. But as far as sex, I never let it go beyond a little phone convo.

            “Mya, what do you want me to prove to you baby? I’ll do it. You know I will. You know my baby mama jealous of us but you let her get in the way of us. Look at us…”

            The tears began to fall from my eyes as I watch my relationship fall apart over what someone else said. In all honesty, I wanted to blame myself. Not once have I caught Shame in the act. On top of that I only went by what people had to say. Not only that but me not hearing from him on the day to day basis didn’t make how I felt any better; I was all cried out…

            “Shame… I know that I promised that I was going to be there for you… through whatever”

            “And I told you dat I was neva gone hurt you Mya… Dat I was gone take care of you. Do you promise da same wit me?”

            I thought about Shame’s question. “Fuck everybody baby… I’m focused on us.” I heard myself say through the phone. In disbelief of what I just said, I realized that my heart felt differently. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be with Shame or not. But my mind, my mind thought differently.

            “I’m talkin bout havin a family Yemya. Movin away from dese problems; I’m talkin about us not worryin bout what folks have to say. I need you…”

            And I needed my man. Instead, I have pain and suffering and fucking heartaches. I don’t give a fuck about no other niggah or what to these bitches have to say. But yet the feeling of regret was evading my soul. Part of me really didn’t want to be with Shame… but the other half was confused. Confused on love. “How do you think I feel Shame? Everybody in our business, everyone seems to know what went on about something. And I’m still so damn clueless to what is true or what are lies. Don’t nobody tell me shit Shame! Nobody! They only tell me what they think they know”

            “Yemya, baby… one minute you want to work things out and the next minute you want to go off on a niggah. I love you girl, what part of that you don’t get?” Shame yelled into the phone.

            “Shame… I am your girl. Right? Your woman… You ole lady right? Why the hell people telling me about where you at and what you are doing and with who? I deserve more respect than what you are giving! Someone always running up to me about some dirt that you’ve done. If you gone cheat learn how to not be so damn messy with it!” At this time, I wished it was true when they said sex would make everything better. As much as I wanted Shame, the decisiveness part of him made me hate him to the max. I thought I was that bitch, but I’m just the bitch who niggah is fucking other bitches; then coming home to me wanting to fuck me like I’m just a left over bitch. I was beyond pissed all over again.

            “Look Yemya, apparently you ain’t done enough thinkin… I’m gone have to call you back…”

Click

            That’s was it… the niggah hung up the phone in my face. I thought about calling him back and acting like a ratchet bitch going off. Instead, I played it classy, scrolled through my calling list and dialed my sister Kenya number.

            “What’s up bitch” She said into the phone as if she was out of breath.

“Nothing, just got off the phone with Shame.”

            “Bitch is you serious!?! I’m going to have to have a drink over this conversation” she laughed. “How did it go?”

            “Whelp… he hung up in my face” I laughed into the phone. I thought the statement was rather funny coming from my end. After he hung up, I did feel rather stupid and had a dumb look on my face. I even wanted to call him back, going off— calling him all kinds of names under the sun. And yes… I had that ‘Oh no he didn’t’ look on my face.

            “And you find that funny? Did you tell him about the abortion?”

After telling Kenya how the conversation went between Shame and I. I realized that there is no fixing us. As much as we tried, we would continuously make up to break up… “The conversation started off good. It just ended on a bad note. I guess you can blame that on me and my big mouth. He isn’t worth telling the abortion to anyway… What he don’t know won’t hurt” I sighed into the phone.

            “Look Mya, you have been through this love roller coaster thing with a niggah once before. Don’t let a thuggish attitude and a big dick fool you and get you in some shit. You are better than that lil sis. For real; don’t let just one man get the best of you and have the upper hand. People always said go with that gut feeling girrrl. If you don’t, then you are going to regret it later. It’s not worth it Mya. I’m telling you— if you have to fight a bitch over him; then leave him alone…” Kenya said into the phone. As much as Kenya wanted to see me happy; she didn’t want to see her younger sister hurt over one guy when the world has many to offer. She was right, I am too young and beautiful to be feeling lost out of love over Shame…

            “As much as I don’t want to admit it” I laughed into the phone. “But you are right Kenya… I need to stop trying to win this battle with Shame and just find my own battle to fight”

            “I’m not trying to tell you what to do or anything. I’m just trying to tell you like it is. But! If you are feeling Shame and want to be with him… then go for it. Like I tell everyone I love, just be careful with your heart. You can’t be having everyone in your business. You know how your friends are. First thing they hear they are quick to tell you and you are quick to go off. What’s between you and Shame needs to stay between the two of you…”

            “How can you say that when I don’t know what’s up with him? I question him because of other people Kenya…” I said as I placed the phone on the table putting it on the speaker.

            “Mya, key word other people I know I told you not to get sprung, don’t fuck off and let other people dictate your actions… If he is some girl baby daddy then fuck it— so be it. Is he a man? Does he have a job? If none of that applies to Shame… let him be. Leave these sorry ass niggahs alone because in the long run it’s going to be more trouble than what it’s worth… Then you are going say ‘I should have listened to you Kenya’.” She laughed into the phone.

            When I thought about my situation, I realized that Kenya was right. Shame and I are losing our love and we’re not meant to be together. I’ve gone through this make up to break up him long enough. Along with the baggage of a sour relationship, I also carry the burden of aborting my baby. Something that I try to get over— but I can’t; I toss and turn with restless nights picturing my life with my child that I killed. I would rock myself to sleep as night while my tears would fall. I guess Shame is my only connection of feeling a sense of love. I want it to be that way. Things like this are a life situation is what brings you ups and downs; turning your tears into frowns. It was all starting to make sense to me…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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1 Comment

  1. RAYMOND D. HUNTER

     /  July 21, 2012

    I LIKE THIS

    Reply

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