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My Second Abortion

I am an educated woman who just this weekend received her second abortion.  Even at this wonderfully empowering, pro-choice, accepting clinic, I declined to tell them it was my second.  Braving the stigma with one abortion story is about all I can stomach.  I don’t want to be ashamed of my choice, but I don’t want the judgment, either.  It’s funny–I can see myself sharing my abortion count once I get my Implanon or my IUD: “I learned my lesson.”  Until then, I’ll sense that my personal responsibility is at a deficit.

I hate that I’m ashamed, because the reality is that my personal responsibility is in the black.  I did the right thing for myself and for the fetuses I aborted.  My choices *should* be less embarrassing than those of a woman who raised two children but could not provide for them or did not care to be a decent parent to them.

I don’t hold any religious beliefs that dictate my personal morals or ethics.  I don’t believe that conception is a magical process that imbues a zygote with personhood.  To whom do I feel, then, that I have to justify my decisions?  I don’t know.  As I write this, I want to convince you of my utter respect for life, how I contribute what I can with my career to raise the quality of life for myself and for others.

I wish my story were more accepted, less whispered.

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