Abortion clinics mutilate our bodies and souls for profit

I am married. I have a one year old son. Abortion doesn’t fit this stereotype, right? Abortion doesn’t discriminate. I suffer from a condition called HG in Pregnancy. I get deathly ill. When I started projectile vomiting after having my morning coffee, I knew. In two weeks I was at the ER as I couldn’t get the sickness under control. I had no help with my son and my husband did not care. He didn’t wear condoms like I begged. Because of Covid, there was little help at the hospital. So, I ran to the nearest abortion clinic. I needed to end this sickness so I could get out of bed and take care of my toddler. As they printed the picture and I saw the heart rate, I cried, “I cannot do this.” I explained my reasons to the doctor that I didn’t want to die and my evil husband would raise our son. She nodded, I took the first pill. Two days later, I took the second set. No one told me I would be in so much pain, I begged God to die. It was like having a knife in my tummy for three hours. I screamed. This was a million times worse than contractions. I called the nurse line. They put me on hold 5 times. That’s how much they care. When I said I feel like I am dying, they said “that’s normal.” I passed out and eventually passed a gush of fluid. I regret this choice with every ounce of my soul. I should have begged for help. I should have used my paycheck to get a nanny. I will never know that baby. My son touched my tummy and looked at me with sadness. I did this for him, but I still feel like a monster.