Loneliest Day Research Paper

Raven Kunz
Ms. Mariano
English 50
17 January 2006
Writing Exercise – Descriptive Essay
The Loneliest Day of My Life I remember every emotion I felt that day. Every tear I shed, every tremble of my body, every ounce of weakness in me. I remember the terror in my heart before I arrived and the deep sorrow I felt when I left. I remember every last detail of my visit to the Summit Family Clinic. I walked through the door, and was greeted with smiling faces. A receptionist at the desk asked my name and appointment time, I obliged, “Raven Kunz, 10:00 am.” I was given a stack of paperwork, and a cup to take in the bathroom with me. I filled the cup, left it in the designated area, and then proceeded to the seat next to my boyfriend, the only person there to see me through the procedure. He and I filled out the paperwork, answering questions about my medical history, my allergies, and I read and signed the risk and consent forms. I held his hand as I trembled, and he squeezed back telling me I was going to be fine.
I was called into a little room on the other side of the wall, for patients only, so Allan had to stay behind.
I hugged him and tried to be strong as I walked away from my support system. I was pricked three times in the finger, trying to test my blood rH. The nurse asked me my age, trying to make small talk, asked me what college I went to. “I just turned 17, and I’m still in high school.” She just looked at me with the saddest eyes, I had seen thus far, and then put her head down trying to become occupied by what she was doing. In the back of my mind, I decided I needed to leave, that I was in the wrong place and I was making an immature irresponsible decision by being there. But I stayed, and I answered the nurse’s questions as I followed to the next room, for the next part of the
process. “Remove your clothes from the waist down, and put this gown over you, the doctor will be right in.” I was scared, I had never had to take my clothes off for a doctor, and I didn’t want to now. I covered myself in every blanket I could find, and curled into a ball. Two knocks on the door before it opened, my heart skipped a beat. The doctor was smiling at me, but I couldn’t smile back, I was ready to cry. I lay down, put my feet up, and the ultra sound started. I was cold, the gel was cold, and I was more uncomfortable than I ever remember being in my whole life. She printed the picture, put it in her little file folder, with the white tab that read, “Kunz, Raven.” I put my clothes on, and proceeded yet again to another room. A counselor and a nurse were sitting with me. “Now, we want to discuss forms of contraception with you.” I listened to my options, and chose one. Now it was the counselors turn. She pulled from her little folder, a piece of paper. She handed it to me, and there she was, my baby girl, thirteen weeks old. My heart dropped and my soul died right at that very moment. I felt every last ounce of life I had in me diminish, and all my strength was gone. I was too weak to cry, too weak to talk, and too weak to get up and walk away. At that exact moment I wanted to grab Allan by the hand and tell him we were leaving. I couldn’t get up, my weakness kept me fixed in that chair, held down by invisible ropes that would not release me. I silently shed tears and I was led into the final room. Once again, I was stripped, prepped, and laid out on a table. Two more smiling faces came strolling into the room. One tied my arm off and began to administer the drugs, the other prepared her tools. I was screaming on the inside and pleading for the strength to leave, I wanted up, but the anesthesia started taking a hold of my body…I cried as I fell into slumber. I awoke suddenly, my heart racing faster than ever before. Where was I? Yet another smiling face tells me I am in the recovery room, and I walked myself there, (though I don’t remember that). I was crushed. It was over, and I couldn’t turn back. She was gone, and a part of me died. I was led to the waiting room through a back door designed for “patient privacy” and Allan was there. He hugged me, told me everything was going to be all right, and then carried my weak and limp body to the car. I then loathed that place and never wanted to return. All those cheerful smiling faces in a place of death and sorrow. I hated myself for being weak, and I hated making such a rushed decision that was not what I wanted. Allan drove me home, carried me to my room, and held my hand as I cried myself to sleep. My little girl was gone forever, and it was my fault, I left her behind, in a Hell hole place called Summit Family Clinic.