Although for most of my life I didn’t consider having kids, my husband worried he would regret it when was too late. I too felt occasional pangs, feeling the romance of it all, the fantasies they feed us in the media. We decided to stop using birth control for a year and let fate decide. We’d heard that it takes much longer for older women to get pregnant, if they do at all. I got pregnant after the first day of not using birth control. For several days, we were both very happy.

Soon after, I started having panic attacks and depression. I wasn’t sure if it was normal fears, relationship issues, hormones, or my true feelings. My husband is a kind man, but works hard and plays hard. During the first few weeks, he seemed to be gone all the time, enjoying the last light of summer. Perhaps he was trying to grab the last freedom he’d have for years, or perhaps he was out as much as usual and I just noticed it more now. I started arguing with him. When he drove 5 miles over the speed limit or worked on the weekends, I panicked about how that would affect the child. My wounds from childhood seemed to all come up at once. I was neglected, and therefore need a lot of love now. Is that wrong? People say that giving a child love is the best way to heal this, but I feel like I need to learn to receive for myself, not sacrifice like my mother did, in order to heal.

Childrearing is like marriage: so many people jump right in without considering the realities instead of the fantasy. I educated myself about the realities, reading “The Mask of Motherhood.” I enjoy so many aspects of life. I enjoy working, am always learning by taking classes, and love travel and nature. I love reading, and spending time alone in the bath. Childrearing to my mother seemed endless and exhausting. She gave up her career to stay home with us, but didn’t seem fulfilled. My husband and I can afford childcare and nannies, but farming a child out to them nearly full time seemed silly…why have one in the first place? It was hard for me to see that I could have a child and retain my independence, my need for solitude and free time, the great relationship I have with my husband, and the urge to travel and explore. I know it’s possible, but I know that for many women, this is much harder than it appears. It’s hard to balance these needs and still give the child what he or she needs. Actually, I love children. I enjoy talking with them, hearing the unique way to see the world, and validating their feelings. I would make a good children’s book author or teacher. I just feel more interested in helping many children than doing the daily work of raising one. Diapers and chauffeuring, cooking regular meals, and school pageants don’t appeal to me. I don’t feel drawn to babies in grocery stores or commercials. Is that normal, or does that mean I shouldn’t be a mother? I couldn’t talk to my friends about it because they were all jealous that I was pregnant and couldn’t understand my fears. My doctor thought my fears were about whether the pregnancy would last rather than whether I wanted to be a mother. Everyone seemed to think I should be ecstatic.

I fell into a deep depression. I couldn’t sleep, waking in panicked sweats. During the day, I felt trapped, thinking of all I’d be giving up. The walls closed in around me. I started considering suicide. The possibility of ending the pregnancy occurred to me at about 6 weeks, and it lifted my spirits. It could be because I never wanted to be a mother in the first place, but gave into society’s and my husband’s pressure. It could be because the timing was wrong…I wanted to be one earlier, but at midlife I’d planned other things to do with my life. It could be because hormonal shifts were making me depressed and anxious, and not thinking clearly. If depression was this bad now, I was at high risk for the postpartum depression that made my mother neglect me.

But I felt like I was thinking clearly. I felt like I was standing up for my right to decide the course of my own life. I felt like I was protecting the Earth, who already has too many humans trampling on her, and the countless children who are waiting for adoption. I felt like I was protecting a child’s life by only bringing those into the world who are wanted 100%. Parenthood is hard even for people who are 100% committed to the idea, and too many people have kids because of society’s expectations and romantic notions. Later, their disappointment hurts their children. If I feel ready in a few years, I can always adopt, after my husband and I have really practiced being good parents.

The abortion itself was relatively easy. The staff was nonjudgmental and told me that many married women make this choice. The “twilight sleep” relaxant they gave me helped tremendously, and it felt like it was over before it started. My husband was sad about my decision, but supported me and loves me just as much today. It’s important for women to know that abortion is never an easy decision, and even if it’s a relief afterwards, grief might come up months later. This is normal, and may be more common for married or older women with supportive partners. But it’s still our right, and making this choice can still show that you’re a good person, a person who cares about children’s, women’s, and the world’s happiness.