I wanted to let you know that I think it's really brave to share what you went through and equally shitty of your "friends" to be judgmental in your time of need.
I went through something similar when I was 18. I was working part time, living with 3 roommates (one was my ex). I was gearing up to start school and dealing with the fact that my mom was pregnant by 18 and never went to college.
I went to a clinic alone. My ex had to work and was going to pick me up afterward. The clinician who did my ultrasound asked if I wanted to know if there were twins. It wouldn't have made a difference, but it's always something I've wondered about since then. I was referred for surgery at another clinic. I couldn't afford the surgical procedure and knew I wouldn't have time to save up the money. I was incredibly depressed at this point and having morning sickness.
A nice woman at the clinic referred me to a state agency to help with the cost of medical bills. I had severe anxiety realizing I'm basically at the medical equivalent of the DMV about to explain what's going on while all these people were waiting in line behind me. The man who was helping was discreet and confirmed I was there for "TP" (terminating a pregnancy) rather than saying anything aloud about an abortion. I'm in a liberal state, but I think I was still very aware that people might be judgmental. I felt awful asking for help, but when I confided in my friend/roommate after the fact, he offered to pay if it wasn't covered. It was such a relief knowing that he just wanted to know what he could do.
The day of the procedure, I took two pills to start the process. When I arrived, I had another ultrasound and met with a counselor. She asked about how I was doing, whether I felt any pressure from my boyfriend. I said no; that was not entirely honest, it just came down to the fact that I wasn't ready in equal measure. She also asked who I had shared this with and we talked about how I hadn't told my mom. She was very comforting and told me that one day, I likely would want to tell her. I didn't believe her, but I did end up talking to my mom about it many years later.
The procedure itself was tough. I remember they gave me some serious medication. My ex was in the room with me but I can't remember if he was holding my hand. I just remember there was a ballerina mobile above me and I concentrated as much as I could on that. I felt sick to my stomach when it was over and the cramps were terrible.
Mostly, I felt relief afterwards. I'm not sure how long it had been since my procedure, but one day I noticed my bra was wet and realized I had been lactating. I cried, but imagined what that would mean if I was holding a newborn in our tiny, rundown apartment. I knew I had made the right choice, but it didn't make it any easier to have my body reminding me in that way.
My cousin is two years younger than me and got pregnant at 18. She decided that she was going to keep it despite the father being in high school and neither of them having jobs. My grandparents basically raised them both, but she did move out when he was about 4 years old. I certainly don't judge her, but I sometimes look at her life and wonder if that would have been me. She wants to go to school, but she has to work full time and take care of her kid. The father isn't very involved and she hasn't had much luck with serious relationships. She dreams of being able to go on trips, but can't afford it. I know that she is very happy with her decision, but it also helped me to feel better about my own because I was able to choose the life I wanted. Even carrying a baby to term and putting it up for adoption would have derailed that. Maybe this all sounds incredibly selfish, but I know that I'll be a mom when I'm ready and will never regret that.