Doctor visit

When I realized that I was probably having a miscarriage, I was filled with fear and shock; tears started rolling down my cheeks. I wanted to call Mike, but I knew that he was at work, which meant he wouldn't be able to talk to me. And as badly as I wanted to pick up my phone and call him, I didn't want him to worry or panic unless I knew for sure that I was miscarrying.

Even if I had decided to call him, I wouldn't of been able to dial his phone number because of the way my hands were shaking so badly. I could feel a panic attack coming on - my chest felt heavy and my stomach was in knots. I closed my eyes and started taking deep breaths to calm myself down.

Although my pregnancy was unplanned and I didn't think that I was ready to have a child, there was a part of me that was upset and panicking at the possibility that I could be miscarrying. I was angry with myself, trying to figure out what I did to make this happen. Was it the methadone I took every morning? Was it the few cigarettes I had smoked? The caffeine?

I couldn't stop thinking about it for three days straight, until I was finally able to go into my doctor's office for the appointment I had scheduled when I found out that I was pregnant.

"Hello!" The secretary said, greeting me.

"Hi," I replied.

"Grab the clipboard, sign in, and your doctor will be with you shortly." She spoke with a big, toothy smile.

I signed my name on the clipboard and then took a seat in one of the waiting room chairs. Across from me was a young woman with a child on her lap and a toddler in the seat next to her. I wondered if she was seeing the doctor because she was pregnant, too. In the midst of my thoughts, a nurse called for me and I followed her into the examination room.

"So, what's the reason you are here today?" The nurse asked me.

"I, um, well... I think that I might have miscarried," I replied. I couldn't keep myself from biting on my lip.

The nurse asked me a few more questions and then told me that Dr. West would be with me shortly. I picked at the cuticles of my fingernails while I waited for the doctor to come in the room. When he finally did, he knocked on the door and waited a moment before walking in.

"Hi Victoria, I'm Dr. West," he said as he shook my hand. "How are you today?"

"Good." I tried to smile.

"So, what's going on?" He asked me.

I took a deep breath in and then explained that about two months earlier I had found out I was pregnant. I told him that it was unplanned, but that I decided to keep it. And then I went on to say that the past few days I had been bleeding and cramping in my stomach and back.

"Yeah, that's a miscarriage," Dr. West said.

"I figured it was," I replied softly. I shrugged my shoulders and tried to ignore the feeling of my heart dropping into my stomach.

"Well, we're going to take some blood from you to confirm that you miscarried and then you can set up an appointment to come back and get on birth control," he said. And just like that, he left the room.

The nurse came back in and took blood from the crook of my arm, filling a vial with it. She said that I could expect a phone call within the next couple of days for the results of the blood test. She engaged in small-talk with me as she took off her gloves and washed her hands. When she told me I was good to go, I got my things together and left the doctor's office, relishing a moment of silence as I sat in the driver's seat of my car.

I took out my phone and typed a text message to Mike: Just left the doctor's office. I've been bleeding the past few days and the doctor told me that he's 99% sure I miscarried. I'm really upset so I'll call you later.

Mike replied within minutes: OMG! R u okay? Damn baby. I'm so sorry. Why didn't u tell me sooner? This is awful :(

Sighing heavily, I put my phone on the passenger seat and drove back to my house. Just like with everything else, I thought that if I ignored it, it would go away. But it wasn't going away - I was.

Miscarriage

When I finally got back to my house after people-watching at the clinic, I walked through the kitchen and into the living room. I could smell coffee brewing and knew that my dad was probably awake. Turning on the television, I sat down on the couch and got comfortable.

Flipping through the channels, I wasn't sure what I wanted to watch. My stomach was still hurting me, so I took a pillow from the couch and placed it over my abdomen, applying some pressure. I usually never spent any of my time watching television, so I decided to leave it on a channel that broad casted documentaries.

Hearing footsteps in the kitchen, I turned to see my younger sister Ally. She was looking through the refrigerator for something to eat.

"Why aren't you at school?" I asked her. I lowered the volume on the TV so that I could talk to her.

"Don't feel good," she replied.

She grabbed a snack and a bottled water from the fridge and walked over to where I was watching television, sitting down on the couch right next to me.

"Allergies?" I looked to her.

"Maybe." She shrugged her shoulders.

The two of us were watching the commercials that came on and Ally began to ask me questions about my pregnancy and the relationship between Mike and I.

"Me and Mike are doing alright," I told her.

"How does he feel about you being pregnant?"

"He's actually pretty happy about it," I answered. "Much more happy then I am."

"Do you not want it?"

"No," I said. "It's not that. I'm just really... unprepared."

At this point, not only was I experiencing a dull, continuing ache in my stomach, but I was also getting sharp tinges of pain every so often. I brought my knees to my chest, the pillow squished between my thighs and my torso. I used my legs to add pressure to the pillow.

"What's wrong?" Ally asked.

"My stomach is hurting me," I said in response.

Ally's eyes got big and she said, "That's a symptom of a miscarriage."

"I know," I told her. I knew that the pains I was feeling in my stomach weren't good, but I didn't want to think about it. I took the remote and began changing the channels to distract myself.

"Mom said that you're going to the doctor," said Ally.

"Yeah," I replied. "In a couple of days."

After a while of watching a few boring television shows, I got up from the couch and grabbed my purse from the floor. I sighed loudly and walked through the hallway to the winding staircase, proceeding upstairs and into my room.

I went into my bathroom, looking in the medicine cabinet for some kind of pain reliever to take. There was a small bottle of Aleeve, but it was empty. I threw it in the trash can and continued looking around my bathroom until I found a packet containing two pills of Tylenol. I swallowed them with faucet water.

After taking the Tylenol, I relaxed a little bit and hoped that it would help make my cramps go away. I was planning on laying down for a while, at least until the Tylenol began working, and I had to use the bathroom first. But, when I unbuttoned and pulled down my pants, I realized that I was bleeding.

"Oh, God," I said out loud in distress.

Silently hoping

The previous day, when I had decided to take a "nap," I slept for a lot longer then I had planned on. It had been early in the afternoon, and I told myself that I would rest for an hour or two. Unexpectedly though, I ended up sleeping through the evening and into the night, finally waking during the early morning hours.

I glanced at the clock next to my bed. 5:14 am.

Closing my eyes, I began stretching and then rolled over. My stomach was hurting me, so I laid on it while I breathed deeply into my pillow. At first, it was a small hurt in the pit of my stomach, but once I was fully awake, it became an intense hurt that went into my lower stomach as well.

After trying to sleep for a little bit longer before having to get up and go to the clinic, I forced myself to get out of bed and get dressed. Because I had severely overslept, I was still very groggy and slow-moving. It took me quite a while to slip into my jeans and a t-shirt.

On my way to the clinic, Jae called me. She usually never called me early in the morning, so I had a feeling that either something great had happened to her, or something terrible. I lowered the volume on the radio and answered the phone.

"You'll never believe it," said Jae immediately.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked.

"Well," she began. "Last night, Josh and I were over at my house just watching TV, and my brother had a few of his friends over, drinking and stuff, you know?"

"Mhmm."

"After a while, Josh was drinking more and more, and so were my brother and his friends. So it was getting pretty loud and some guys were starting to act obnoxious..."

"Were you drinking too?" I interrupted.

"Yeah, I was," Jae replied.

"Okay, go on," I told her. I knew that if Jae was drinking, then some kind of crazy drama was bound to happen, as it usually did.

"Anyway," she continued. "One of my brother's friends, this guy named Evan, was acting like a total dick to everyone. So, Josh was telling Evan to shut up and, you know, just talking shit to him."

"Typical Josh," I said.

"The whole time, Evan was getting more and more pissed at Josh, and was calling him a pussy and telling him that he was going to kick his ass. So, Josh got all up in Evan's face and was telling him to bring it on, that he would split his shit, blah blah blah."

"Yeah..."

"All of a sudden, Evan pulls out a fucking knife and holds it to Josh's throat!" Jae exclaimed.

"What the hell?" I replied.

"I know!" Jae said. "My brother broke it up and kicked Evan out of the house, and things kind of settled down after that. But, I was upset with Josh for starting a fight, and I told him that it was rude for him to do that in my house, you know?"

"Mhmm," I agreed.

"So Josh started taking out his anger on me. My brother was right there and saw Josh calling me a drunk bitch, and even saw Josh grabbing me and pushing me around."

"Oh my god," I said. "Did your brother do anything?"

"Of course!" Jae responded. "He was pissed. He made Josh leave my house and told him he would kill him if he ever saw him do that again."

"Damn."

"Yeah, and then Josh called me over and over, saying that we were done and that I was a whore and that he never loved me anyway!"

"Have you talked to him today?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. Everything is fine now," said Jae.

"Well, that's good." I rolled my eyes to myself.

Jae went on to ask how I was, and I told her that I had been doing well with hardly any morning sickness. I let her know that my stomach had been hurting all morning for some reason, and she said that wasn't a good sign. At that point I had pulled into the methadone clinic, so I told her that I would call her back later.

My stomach was hurting and I didn't feel like moving, so after I went into the clinic and got my methadone, I sat in my car. I was watching as everyone walked in and out through the clinic's doors. The people that came into the clinic were all completely different. Some came in suits with slicked-back hair, and others came in pajamas with bags under their eyes. Many of them carried their pain on their faces.

As time went on and the sky became brighter, more people were coming and going. I noticed a few different drug deals that went on in the parking lot. After a while, I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the window while I listened to music. My mind was speeding through different thoughts and worries.

Thinking about how Jae said that my stomach hurting "wasn't a good sign," I crossed my fingers, silently hoping that everything was okay. I couldn't help but feel anxious, like I usually felt about everything. It was probably just nothing at all. Hopefully.

Sleeping too much

Things became a little easier once I had told my parents that I was pregnant. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders; I didn't have to worry about what was going to happen and how I would tell them. I didn't have to bite my nails while talking to them, thinking about the impact of the secret I was keeping.

A few days later, I sat down in the kitchen and started a conversation with my mom.

"So, I think I need to set up a doctor appointment," I said.

"Yes," she replied calmly. "You do."

"I'm kind of scared," I told my mom.

"It's your choice, Tori," my mom said.

"I know."

"You don't have to go through with the pregnancy."

I shook my head and said, "I can't get an abortion. I just can't."

My mom didn't say anything in response, just raised her eyebrows and looked away. Shrugging my shoulders, I got up from the table and picked up the house phone so that I could call and schedule an appointment with my doctor. I wanted to go as soon as possible.

After I set up the appointment, I went upstairs to my room and laid down in my bed. My cell phone was vibrating in my pocket, and I looked at it and saw that Mike was calling me.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey baby," he said. "What's up?"

"Not much, I'm about to take a nap," I told him.

"You've been sleeping too much."

"I can't help it," I replied.

By the time our conversation ended and I laid my phone down on the bed, my eyes were already closed and my body was minutes away from a deep sleep.

A warm feeling

The following is an excerpt taken from one of my journals.

November 4, 2002
(Age 15)

Earlier today, my cell phone was ringing, and it was a phone call from [my older guy friends] Ken and Danny. They told me to "get ready," because they were on their way to pick me up from my house. Of course, I was taken by surprise, so I rushed to do my makeup and get ready. I lied to my parents, telling them that Jae's boyfriend [Danny] was taking Jae and I out to eat.

Everything with my parents went smoothly, and when I saw Danny's car pull up, I climbed into the backseat and Danny sped from the driveway. He pulled out of the community where I lived, and out onto the main road. Apparently, the plan was for the three of us to go out to eat at IHOP. But from the backseat window, I could see that we had passed the IHOP and yet, Danny kept driving and driving.

Finally I spoke up, and asked, "Where are we going?"

"Washington, D.C.," Danny responded.

"Um, why?" I asked, curiously. I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. Why would we go all the way to DC to eat at IHOP?

"Me and Ken are going to pick up some dope," he answered casually.

My jaw immediately dropped in surprise.

I had been hanging out with Ken and Danny a lot recently, and from our conversations, I knew that when they said "dope," that they meant heroin... There had been a couple of times when they asked me if I wanted to snort some, but I had always said no. I had never even seen what it looked like, and now I was going with them to the ghetto at night to buy drugs! I couldn't believe it!

Too stunned and a little intimidated, I sat there in silence while the radio played rap music. When we finally reached D.C., Danny told me to crouch down in the backseat so that no one could see me. I quickly obeyed, my heart beating hard inside my chest, and sat on the floor behind Ken's seat.

"Don't say anything until I tell you to," Danny said.

From my curled-up position with my knees to my chest, I couldn't see where we were going or what was going on. But I could feel the car slow to a stop, and the driver's side window roll down, and then I heard Danny speak to someone.

"What you want, white boy?" An unfamiliar voice spoke.

"Some dope, some H," replied Danny.

"I got you," the other guy said.

"Nah, man! This is crack, this ain't what I want," Danny said after a few seconds of silence.

"What you mean!" The guy said.

"I want some dope," Danny said slowly.

"What the fuck, you a cop or something?" The guy shouted.

"Nah," said Danny.

"Get the fuck outta here! You the police!" The guy said angrily, and I could feel the car speed away as Danny rolled his window up.

"Damn, that dude was all cracked out," said Ken.

I was scared by what had just happened, and I grabbed a big sweatshirt that was laying in the backseat, and then covered myself with it. I tried not to breathe too loudly, and I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that nothing bad would happen.

The car stopped again and I stayed completely still.

"You got dope?" Danny said.

"How many bags you want?" The guy asked.

"Four," said Danny.

After a few short seconds, Danny rolled the window up and hit the gas. When he started laughing, Ken asked him what was so funny.

"I only gave him twenty bucks instead of forty," replied Danny.

Oh my god, I thought to myself. He's going to get us killed.

Once we got back on the highway and were heading back toward home, I felt safe enough to throw the sweatshirt off of me, and sit up in the middle of the backseat. As I fastened my seatbelt, I could see that both Danny and Ken were taking bumps from little bags filled with a light tan powder.

"Here," said Danny as he passed a straw and bag to me.

"No thanks," I replied as I shook my head.

"Just do it!" Danny exclaimed.

"Okay," I said softly. I took the tiny bag and small straw from him, examining it. The bag was clear and had a green imprint of a dollar sign on it. The straw was cut diagonally, so that it could scoop a small amount of dope on the end of it.

"Don't be scared," Ken told me. "You'll like it."

After a minute of debating whether or not I should do it, I took a deep breath and used the straw to collect a large chunk of dope on the end of it. Biting my lip anxiously, I brought the straw to my nose and took a deep sniff.

"Take another bump," instructed Ken.

"Oh, okay," I said out loud. I scooped another chunk of dope out of the bad, and inhaled it into my nostril. Ken held his hand out, and I gave him the bag and the straw, and then sat back in my seat and looked out of the window. I was biting my nails, and thinking to myself. I couldn't believe that I had just done heroin.

All of a sudden, my throat was filled with a nasty, bitter taste. I reached for my bottle of water, and took a couple of gulps from it until the taste went away. Later on, I found out that taste was called a "drip."

And then, I could feel it. It was a warm feeling that filled my chest and my shoulders. Because of heroin's bad reputation, I was expecting the feeling to be strong and powerful, knocking me to my knees. But it wasn't like that... The feeling that I got felt warm and comfortable and soft and happy. In fact, it felt like such an easy and light sensation, that it was hard for me to connect it with the idea of BIG, BAD HEROIN.

But I guess that is what makes it so addicting?

Breaking the news

In the weeks that followed my positive pregnancy test, I spent a lot of time thinking of the best way to tell my parents that I was pregnant. I was very, very apprehensive about telling them because I already knew how they would react and what they would say:

"How could you be so stupid?"

"The last person you should be having a baby with is Mike."

"You've ruined your life, Tori!"

I wasn't looking forward to telling either my mother or father, but I knew that I had to. If I was going to move forward with the pregnancy, than I was going to need their help and support - not just financially, but also emotionally. Still, I could already imagine the disappointment on their faces, the way their hearts would break, the anger that they would feel.

The last thing I wanted was to be pregnant and kicked out of my house. My dad had a special kind of hate for Mike, as he considered Mike to be the reason why I started doing heroin. In fact, my dad never even used his name, preferring instead to call him "the idiot," "the son of a bitch," or "the low-life."

In anticipation of breaking the news to them, I silently went over what I would say and debated on the best way to say it. I practiced how the conversation would be, and the things that my parents might respond with. So, finally, after a long while of mental preparation, I closed my eyes and said a little prayer to God, begging for everything to turn out alright.

It was a Sunday afternoon, so I knew that both of my parents would be in the living room watching a football game and eating chips and salsa. I left my room and walked down the stairs and through the hallway, joining them as I took a seat on the couch.

"Hey, Tori honey," my mom greeted me. I gave a half-hearted smile.

"What's on your mind?" My dad asked, looking over to me.

"Actually," I sighed. "I wanted to talk about something important."

"Oh, god," my mom gasped. "Does it involve drugs?"

"No, no. Not at all," I replied.

"Well, then what is it?" My mom questioned.

"I... I'm pregnant." My voice was shaking.

Even though there was an immediate silence, it seemed as though there was a very loud sense of shock and surprise. My dad had a mixed look of anger and frustration on his face, and my mom was slowly shaking her head back and forth.

"Oh, my goodness, Tori," my mom finally spoke. "What are you going to do?"

"What can I do?" I asked out loud, putting my head in my hands.

"How could you be so stupid to let that asshole get you pregnant?" My dad exclaimed.

"Ken," my mom turned to him, "Don't attack her."

My dad ignored my mom and continued: "Time and time again, you have chose him over your family. Unfortunately, this is going to effect the rest of your life - there is no going back. If I were you, I would be seriously considering an abortion."

I could feel my heart jump up into my throat, choking me. My parents continued to lecture me and ask various questions, but my head was somewhere else. I was angry with myself and upset with my situation. I knew that my dad was right, that there was no going back. But there was no way that I could even consider abortion.

After my parents had finished talking to me, I returned to my room and collapsed onto my bed. My first impulse was to call Mike, but all I could do was cry. It was too much of an effort to even get up, so I stayed in the curled-up position that I was in and didn't move for hours. I only felt better when I could feel sleep envelope me and carry me away.