My Complicated Abortion
I know I made the right choice for me and my family — that doesn’t mean I’m not mourning a loss
It’s the details that make it real: those insignificant gestures, tiny inconsistencies, and forgettable grains of reality that blur into the tapestry of happenings so seamlessly that it’s almost impossible to notice. But if you strip the significant things from all the unimportant little details, you’ll get a sterile, factual description of what’s happening.
For example, this crowd is here to bury my father. Only my brother is missing. The nurses are exceptionally professional in this hospital, and the walls are sand-colored. And lying on the kitchen floor for hours is not a good idea.
If you take away the details, life becomes just headlines and fact sheets. But the smells, sounds, and emotions are so linked together that one cannot exist without the other, and they will trigger each other to make you feel, hear, and smell again. They will drag you back in a split second, whether you want it or not.
Facts are cold, lifeless, and motionless. The details, the memories of smells, and the sounds are vivid, colorful, and realistic.
The fact? I was pregnant with twins. And then I wasn’t.
