Healing After Abortion

I was raised by very amazing women. I was taught to think for myself and I ended up being a pro choice in almost everything. I even have a long list stashed somewhere labeled ‘SHIT MY MOM SAID’. She is pro life BTW. That didn’t stop her from teaching us to be pro choice. She never forced her religious beliefs on us either, I guess that’s what makes her a great mother. She never let anything get on the way of raising us to be better human beings Maybe that’s why we all turned out mostly alright with survival skills and shit. I feel like a letdown among her kids; being a cliché blogger with a basic degree is overly cliché but at least am pro choice.

 When my friends ask for my opinion on pregnancy crisis I always go all pro choice on them giving them perspective on pros and cons of swinging either side. Only once I made someone keep the baby, I literally begged her.Maybe  I just wanted to be an aunt and baby Milan not only saved his mother from going insane but he has been a huge blessing in our life. when he walked into our life he made me believe that babies are magical and I get lost in his brown innocent eyes. He has been our anchor and source of joy. I will seriously spoil him when mama bear is not looking. When he is old enough to walk and clean after himself , I’m seriously considering kidnapping him.  I like it when women take charge of what they want to do with their bodies. It’s okay if she aborts or carries the baby to term. It is okay to bleach. It’s okay to go for plastic surgery. It’s okay to have implants. Whatever her wardrobe choice suits her, I have no fuckin problem. I guess you see where am going. I do not care what the patriarch considers sin or inappropriate or wrong or right, if you are a woman do with your body whatever you feel works for you. 

After abortion there are some things you will feel. First there is relief. Devour this feeling when you still can. It is totally okay to be relieved that you got rid of unwanted pregnancy. Then there will be sadness. Thereafter you have sadness and relief, that will leave you confused; you will wonder how the same thing that gave you relief makes you sad. Here you will spend sleepless nights awake and or even have nightmares. You might even sink into depression. Naturally, your brain will try to block it. It will automatically create a box to hide it and if you not careful, these walls will get too high even for you to scale. No one expects you to grief for an unborn you wanted to get rid of. Today I want you to grief. Weep for your unborn baby. You can write letters or talk to it when you alone or tell your best friend about it. Just grieve. Yes, I know we are supposed to suck it up and move on, after all we are the ones who asked for it. It is like losing a leg when we called for amputation,it still hurts.
 After phase one, phase two is all about sharing. Talk about it with someone other than your best friend. You could tell your online friends or your mother. Just learn how to talk about it, you will feel less alone. It is amazing how many women have gone through what you have and are willing to hold your hand without judgment. Just because you are talking about it doesn’t mean our journey ends here. When you think you have overcome it remember it’s just the beginning. There is a huge chance that the women you share with will not judge you, so it is only natural to judge yourself. This is a dangerous road, the only way out is through it. You will toy with suicide, you will consider getting pregnant again and you might start self-destruction. When you get there, it is time to reach out. Support groups and reading articles on aborthion survivors or even books will get you through it. Getting pregnant is band Aid material, DO NOT DO IT. Suicide is seductive but do not go through with it. Self-destruction, a road I know so well is good for nothing, do not walk this path
Phase 3 is all about letting go. You have enjoyed relief. You survived sadness, confusion, grief, pain and most part of the turmoil that comes with abortion. It is time to let go and cleansing. It is time to take your life back. You need to renew your energy. I know a few techniques that can help you cope. Your womb needs cleansing too. Emotions need letting go. You need to feel alive again. 

After the emotional turmoil, the next step is cleansing your womb. There are different ways you could do it. 

  • You can use traditional African healing arts. Visit a female herbalist and explain to her your problem. they always have herbs and teas for this kind of thing. She will encourage you to do a blood cleansing even. Trust her to take care of you. If you lucky to have a senge or lucky enough to know one, it is time to pay them a visit.
  • You can go Eastern way, Yoni massage is one of the most effective healing arts of the east end. In Kenya, I have seen several Yoni masseuse or those who understand tantric arts. Yoni massage is orgasmic and nothing deserves a good orgasm more than your womb. It has been through so much stress. Let the masseuse take care of the release. I would advise you pick a female masseuse. There is always a deeper understanding between us females. She should be able to create an environment where you feel safe. You should be able to let go of all negative emotions and self-loathing that may have plagued you for months. All negativity under the sun can be released by a good Yoni massage.
  • You could use western arts, sign up for therapy or counseling. Another safe environment to let go, release and renew your energy. Your therapist should be able to guide you to recovery. Sometimes therapy gets hard but it is worth it.
  • You could choose to drown your sorrows with vodka. You all know how things end here, though.

I Want To Have Your Babies

In the 22 years have been roaming this godforsaken planet, I have been unsure about many things. I have had my doubts about religion, governments, the system and a bunch of shit I do not remember. Despite being the biggest doubting Thomas of the century, I have only been sure of one thing; NO KIDS FOR ME. It did not matter what the religion of  mother demanded or the beliefs of my mentor. Even when the pastor from the church dearest dad sometimes attended preached that our purpose on earth was to fill it or words to that effect, I was not swayed. As a little girl, mom said I was never big on cuddles and hugs.  Now as a young adult, the idea of being responsible for another being is scary but it doesn’t scare me if it will be him by my side. That kind of commitment is too much since am a self proclaim flight risk.  Recently my parents had another child and am still appalled by their decision. Anyway, I think they take ‘GO FILL THE EARTH’ literally. However, what do I know? While my friends are getting babies am adopting wine bottles and stone pets. While they are getting married am looking for more TV shows to watch and high heels to rock on their weddings. In addition, while they are settling down and building a simple life for themselves, am caressing the atlas wondering where the roads should take me. I know too well that all I need is a one-way ticket and I will be out of this place in a minute.

Then again, when you think you have everything figured out life sends you a surprised, this time round it was blood and bone wrapped in flesh and smart as fuck. he makes me wanna ditch the maps, throw caution to the wind and just marry him. If he asks me to marry him with nothing a grass made ring. He calms my chaos and fuels my passion. He makes settling down and building a home together seem like an adventure and not entirely giving up maps and the world.

He makes me feel like a natural woman. My womb is craving to carry  the seeds of his loins. Our kids will have my eyes and I hope they get his voice and intelligence. A cross between my vague memory and his detailed mind should amount to something. I hope good grades are gene transmitted  since our kids will need his flawless school record in case I actually take them to school. I hope the laziness gene skips one generation, it is bad enough to have a lazy mother am sure lazy kids will be tragic.  I hope they get his multi lingual capabilities. I hope they have his skin color and my perfect eyebrows. One thing should skip a generation, sarcasm and eye rolling. The last thing I want is for my daughter to roll her eyes at me and my son to drop words that reek of sarcasm every time we have a fight. Mommy should roll eyes and daddy to reek of sarcasm. 

Then again, as much as having his babies seems appealing I do not think it’s the greatest of ideas. I have had better in the past; reverse sea world where dolphins pet humans is much better than us being parents. Unless we raise them homeless, on the road, with no solid roots and decent education.  We will probably make them gay or gypsies. One thing I will make our daughter is to be a free woman. I will show her how to run with the moon and chase wolves. It will be his duty to teach our sons the ways of wolves and the free people. 

IFAS During pregnancy



Background Information

Anemia is a medical condition in which capacity of the blood to transport oxygen is reduced either by low red blood cells level or low haemoglobin. 

According to WHO(World Health Organization) 41.8 % of pregnant women world wide are anemic. At least Half of the anemia burden is believed to be iron deficiency related the other half is caused by folic acid, vitamin A, parasitic infections and inflammatory chronic illnesses like HIV(Human immunodeficiency virus) and cancer. 


  • Low birth weight
  • Increase risk of premature babies
  • Increase risk of neural tube effect. 
  • Increase risk of maternal anaemia


  • Constipation
  • Nausea
  • Vomiting
  • Diarrhea


  • Take your daily dose after a meal, preferably a snack like at ten o’clock or 4 o’clock. 
  • Down it with Orange juice or other citrus products instead of water. 
  • Avoid milk for two hours after your IFAS intake
  • If symptoms persist see a doctor to review your dosage. 


  • Start within the first twenty weeks of pregnancy
  • Take one tablet a day 

Book Quotes From A Book I Once Read

  1. My three goals are to eat, survive and have a good coat
  2. You have the possibility to make your life beautiful, but possibility is not forever and it’s not immediate.
  3. When you love someone they always smell good. 
  4. Sometimes you have to cheat on your wife and sometimes you have to get back to her. 
  5. People watch real life the way they do TV, sitting in an arm chair, drinking beer and talking over commercials. 
  6. Being hateful is satisfying. That way people watch you closely and then they want to soothe your sorrows and make you a better person. 
  7. People never change their Mondus Operandi. 

    MONARCH,Killing My God


    For the forgotten, thanks for the memories.
    For Maria, whether you know it or not, this story is because of you. Grazie mille.

    I’ve walked this road for hours

    To the white hills and the oceans

    I search for solace in this toxic land of sin

    asking alexandria, dear insanity  
    I shave, sir. I have a driver’s license, I have won a couple of fist fights; I saved a life, I’ve lain with a woman, I’ve been hustled at pool, I’ve defied my father’s wishes, I have broken hearts and I have been heartbroken, so by all the markers of this society, I am a grown man

    dr. clark edison, bones season 3 episode 13,

    “My memory,” I replied, “is perfect. I remember everything from when I first had the consciousness to understand that this was recollection. I cannot remember being born; perhaps the brain is simply not developed enough to understand the event. But I remember dying. I remember the moment when it stops.”
    Claire North, The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August 


    Birth isn’t just one thing, never just one moment. No, I refuse to believe anything else, ignore everything contrary. Birth is a process, a state of being, a transition from one thing to another. Now that, that is an idea I can get behind. We don’t get born, we become.

    My earliest memory was of my birth, of my becoming, my startling transition from before to after. I woke up to noise and pollution. People were staring, pointing, taking pictures. It goes without saying, I was born famous. My first impression of the world around me was of filth. 

    The way I hear it told, I was born a king, a child offered to the skies by a heap of rubbish and other similar discarded toys, like me, broken, unwanted. They held me up proudly, exposed to the world beneath us, the world that had so callously discarded us. I didn’t mind then. It didn’t occur to me to mind anything then.

    My clothes were tattered, torn in different places, whether by accident or by design I don’t remember. I remember blood, blotches of red and pink against my tattered shirt. Every joint in my body ached, making any slight movement torture. As such, I couldn’t really investigate the extent of the damage to my person. The flies buzzed all over me, a slight nuisance over the deafening morbid curiosity of the throng gathered to witness my coronation. I moved, sitting upright and they gasped, matching the stab of pain that ran through my body. For a long extended moment, I said nothing, and neither did they. We remained in an impasse, them staring at me while I looked back, unblinking, unaware.

    It took a while but finally somebody broke through the crowd. She was clothed in white, head to toe, her hair covered. The ground beneath her feet seemed tainted by her very presence, not that she seemed to mind. She got close enough to me and offered her hand. In response, I stared back at her, incomprehensive. I tilted my head to the side, an unconscious gesture. In response she opened her mouth and said something, I don’t remember what. A part of me was pretty sure I should understand her, get what she was saying yet for some reason I didn’t. I tilted my head some more and she smiled in reply, her hand still outstretched towards me.

    I don’t remember what prompted me to stand up, or whatever made me think it was a good idea to begin with. Maybe it was her smile, brilliant and inviting. Maybe it was the crowd beneath us, staring, their silence screaming at me. I don’t suppose it matters what it was. I was on my feet before I knew what it was I was doing, before I fully understood the consequences of my own actions. I stood for a fraction of a second before teetering over. One moment the ground, my kindred souls among them, was rushing towards me, the next I was in her arms. The last thing I remembered before passing out was how unfortunate it was her clothes were no longer white.

    I woke up for the second time in my life in yet another strange environment.  The rooms were white; clean to the point I could swear I saw my reflection on it. I was lying on something soft and comfortable, the most comfort I had felt in my young life as it was. I looked around, my eyes still heavy from something I am sure they had given me. I had no point of comparison so I couldn’t be certain how big the room was. There was a chair beside the bed. The woman from the before was seated there, book in hand (yes, I knew what a book was), attention completely held by it. She looked up the moment I twitched, her book forgotten. There was worry and concern in her face, and for a moment another image threatened to superimpose itself on hers. Only for a moment. 

    “Are you okay?” 

    This time I heard her speak. I understood her, every word she was saying. I didn’t have a threshold on which to gauge what okay felt like so I nodded. I was better than I had been before.

    “The doctors said you fainted because you hadn’t eaten for days. Do you remember what happened?”

    I tried. I swear to God I tried. Memory is easy. All you have to do is close your eyes and it all comes rushing in. All I got was a headache. I let out a groan as I shook my head.

    “I am sorry but I have to ask. Your name. Do you know your name?”

    This time the headache sent me spiralling back into the darkness.
    I dreamt. I know I dreamt but what it was I don’t remember, not even now. I know it was important though because the headaches follow every time I try to remember. I woke up to the sound of a camera shutter going off. She isn’t there. I know even before I open my eyes and it scares me. For a moment I can’t breathe, I am gasping for breath, clawing against the constraints of my hospital gown. The machine I am hooked on starts going crazy and for a moment I am sure I am going to die. For a moment I remember. Just for a moment and then it is gone.  

    She swept into the room like an avenging angel. She saw me first, thrashing on my bed. Even in my state I could see the agony etched on her face. Ignoring the intruder she heads towards me, her hand finding mine and all is well again.  

     The camera shutters, more rapid now, are in the background like white noise. My brain registers it, barely like an echo, unimportant, irrelevant. Then she stands up, turning away from me. 

    “You are going to hand me that camera and you are going to leave. Now.”

    Her voice is calm, soft even.