I had my abortion in 1962. Back then, abortion was illegal, and taboo. Not stigmatized like today, but completely taboo. You didn’t do it, but more so, you absolutely didn’t discuss it. Quickly after I found out I was pregnant I began attempting to find a doctor that performed abortions. Through a friend of a friend, I found one, and my boyfriend drove me to New York City to have it performed.We were both eighteen, and I was six weeks pregnant.

The abortion cost 400 dollars, which, even by today’s standards, is expensive. I went to a doctor’s office after the practice was shut for the day. The doctor was kind. We paid him in cash and my boyfriend sat in the waiting room while I followed the doctor through the empty office. The procedure took about forty minutes and was excrutiatingly painful. The doctor told me I would have to be quiet and I somehow managed not to scream. I remember feeling that I deserved the pain, that I had called this situation upon myself.

Afterwards, I rejoined my boyfriend in the lobby. The doctor told us to have a good meal and then gave me a bag of candies. I’ll always remember that. I always wanted to know- who were those candies intended for? Did he give them to all his “patients?”  Several years later my boyfriend and I married, and two years later I gave birth to a daughter. I had two more children, another girl and a boy.

My children have grown older, and the world has changed. I’ve watched abortion become, however debated, legal, and watch as generations of women accept the right to choose as a give-in. I’ve volunteered at women’s clinics and taught my children about the importance of birth control and a woman’s right to choose. I’ve often thought about the child I didn’t have.  But more so, I think about how grateful I am that I no longer have to carry around the burden of a taboo- that I can speak publicly, or online, or with my family and not be fearful of judgment, let alone legal consequence. But I’m also saddened about the women who still don’t have access to legal abortions and have to face the fear, dangers and complications of illegal abortions.

How I felt at the time…

Confident but sad.

How I feel now…

Happy that my daughter made a good choice for that time in her life.

My story…

As I look back on the moment when my daughter told me she was pregnant and wanted to have an abortion, I totally realize that we have an amazing relationship as mother and daughter. My first thought  was that she is pregnant with a potential grandchild. Of course I began to imagine and fantasize how it would be to be a grandmother. Several of our friends’ children were married and having babies and I had enjoyed vicariously all the steps, celebrations, and stories about that stage that our friends were experiencing.
My fantasy and thoughts were very short-lived because I knew that my daughter had made a correct choice for herself when she decided to terminate the unwanted and unplanned pregnancy. She had just begun her career. She had really just started her life. I supported her dreams and I knew that this was particularly hard because she had just started life as a single woman.  I did talk to her about her options. I needed her to know that the future isn’t guaranteed, she might not necessarily have another chance to have a child. I wasn’t trying to make it harder, but she needed to hear it. (more…)

How I felt at the time…

Really, really scared. Ashamed. Felt like I had really messed up.

How I feel now…

Blessed that I have this right and adamant that every woman should have the right to choose.

My story…

I was overseas when I found out I was pregnant, in a staunchly Catholic third world country. I was going to school, living in a dorm with a hundred other girls my age, all locals. I didn’t want to tell them my fear of being pregnant- I didn’t speak the language well enough to communicate it anyways, but I asked a girl where a pharmacy was. I followed her directions and got to a little pharmacy. I tried to explain what I wanted, resorting to hand signals and facial expressions. The pharmacist tried to follow, eventually sliding birth control pills across the counter. No, I shook my head, too late for that. I didn’t even need to take the test, but I did anyways. Afterwards, i IMed my boyfriend, told him the news. Then, desperate, scared, I walked through the dark streets until I found a phone booth. I called my parents. I can remember the conversation, how quickly I started crying. Two days later I was on a plane back home. The girls at the school asked me what was wrong, why I had to leave so suddenly. I only hesitated for a second before I told them there was a death in the family. It was basically true, or it would be.  The strangest part is, what resonated with me the most, what consumed me at that point,  was the sudden difference between me and these girls. The difference that nationality, and money and choice offered. (more…)