Abortion Pills in Pampanga

My Not-So-Inspirational Story

Hi, I’m Luis, 32F. It’s been a year since my husband and I separated. Ironically, the day we parted ways was also my first day at a new job—a fresh start I desperately needed. Everything felt new. I didn’t cry, maybe because I had already shed too many tears in the years prior, hoping for a miracle that never came. Perhaps not all prayers are meant to be answered.

I had no choice but to become stronger—stronger than I ever thought possible. I chose to live alone, distancing myself from family and friends. I didn’t broadcast what had happened, only confiding in our immediate family, because I don’t owe anyone an explanation. I simply disappeared and began building a new version of myself.

People often say, “You can’t have it all,” and for me, that “all” was a family. It was my dream to be a loving wife and mother. That vision has always been my guiding light.

Now, I find myself in the company of someone new—a coworker. I enjoy his presence, but I’m not ready for any kind of commitment. He knows that I’m not emotionally, mentally, or financially stable, and I don’t want to use him as a crutch to move forward. We’re both fighting our own battles.

Then life threw another curveball. As many of you in this group might have guessed, I found out I was pregnant. It came as a shock, especially since I was told conceiving would be difficult due to my Ovarian Endometrioma. After years of trying with my husband and never becoming pregnant, I never imagined this would happen now.

Fast forward to that moment: two lines on a test, and my world stopped—again. I didn’t know how to feel. A part of me was happy that I could conceive, but another part of me felt utterly broken because I knew deep down that I wasn’t ready.

Struggle, Desperation, Hope

Coming from a deeply religious family, I knew the judgment I would face if they ever found out about my situation. But even more than that, I knew myself—I wasn’t ready. Emotionally, mentally, and financially, I was in no state to bring a child into the world. Everything felt like a mess, but I wasn’t blaming anyone; I knew this was my responsibility.

The father of the child wanted to keep it, but I just couldn’t. We couldn’t.

In my desperation, the first thing I did was search online for someone who could provide abortion medication or offer a procedure. After reading some feedback and seeing screenshots, I convinced myself it was legitimate. Looking back, I realize my desperation blinded me—I didn’t do the proper research to understand how a real medical procedure should work.

The seller provided the medicine along with instructions on when and how to take it. It was supposed to be over in one day. I experienced cramps, mild bleeding, and passed some blood clots. Throughout the day, I kept updating the seller, because something didn’t feel right. Afterward, they told me to take a pregnancy test after two weeks to confirm it was successful.

Those two weeks were agonizing—overthinking, physical changes, emotional turmoil. When I finally took the test, it was still positive. I felt crushed. I didn’t want to prolong this any further. I wanted it to be over, for me, and for the baby.

I messaged the seller, and they told me that sometimes abortions are incomplete. They sold me the same medication again, this time at a higher dose. Once more, I followed their instructions—more cramps, more bleeding, more clots. Again, they told me to wait two weeks. And again, it failed.

I couldn’t understand how, even in the midst of such difficult circumstances, some people could still lie and scam those in need. I was frustrated and devastated.

At that point, I had lost hope. If I hadn’t taken that first round of medication, I might have considered continuing the pregnancy. But now, I knew the effects—both physical and psychological—had already set in. I felt trapped, not knowing who to turn to or where to go next. It was like hitting a dead end.

One day, while randomly scrolling on TikTok, I came across a confession about a relationship issue. In the comments, someone mentioned “Project 486.” There were no details, just the name. I couldn’t forget it, but I also couldn’t find the post again.

Out of curiosity, I searched for Project 486 and found very little information online. I did come across a blog filled with testimonials, but I was hesitant—after my previous experience, how could I trust again? What if it was another scam? But…what if it wasn’t? What if this was my last chance? My last chance to let my baby rest peacefully?

I emailed Project 486, clinging to a thread of hope. They responded, directing me to someone who would guide me via WhatsApp. That’s when I was introduced to Dr. JJ. He asked for detailed information about my health and suggested a phone conversation.

Our conversation was thorough and informative—unlike anything I had experienced with the previous seller. What stood out most was that Dr. JJ never pressured me to buy anything. The focus wasn’t on the product; it was on my well-being and the baby’s condition. For the first time, I felt cared for. It even made me reconsider continuing the pregnancy, but I knew I couldn’t risk the baby’s health after having already taken abortion medication.
I was 13 weeks along, and the baby was growing quickly. Dr. JJ made sure I understood the risks, especially considering my medical history. Given that most of the women in my family required C-sections, it was likely I would face the same challenge. Dr. JJ walked me through the pros and cons, providing careful guidance, but ultimately gave me the time and space I needed to make my own decision.

I decided to try one last time.

I purchased the medication and waited for instructions. Unlike before, I didn’t have to chase anyone for updates or guidance. They monitored me closely from the moment I started taking the medication.

On the third day, the day I dreaded most, I was terrified. I prepared myself mentally and physically, and my partner was there to support me. According to the timeline, it would take about eight hours for the results. I took the misoprostol at 4 PM, and by 7 PM the POC had already come out.

The pain was overwhelming. The amount of blood was unlike anything I had expected. And then, I saw my baby—small and lying amidst the blood. Beyond the physical pain, my heart shattered. I felt crushed under the weight of guilt and sadness.

I’m sorry, I wasn’t brave enough.

If you’re looking for a story to reassure you about the legitimacy of the people here, I can tell you that, yes, they are. However, I’m not here to claim that what I did was morally right, because it wasn’t—at least not by society’s standards. But ultimately, you have to decide if the life you’re considering will have the future it deserves.

Did I find peace after the procedure? Both yes and no. We all choose the burdens we carry each day, and this is mine. I will live with the pain of my decision forever, but I also accept the responsibility that comes with it. This was the battle I chose.