I had my first abortion on January 9, 2007. It was a Friday and the first day of the spring semester was on the following Monday. I was a 19 year-old first year college student who had been involved with an anti-choice man. Our relationship was nothing short of turbulent and finding out I was pregnant only added to all of the stress. On November 30, 2006 my partner and I had sex without a condom. During the first half of December I experienced fatigue, breast tenderness and cramps in my lower abdomen that felt similar to menstrual cramps. I took a pregnancy test just after Christmas that confirmed my fears. I then scheduled an appointment at Planned Parenthood. Going to Planned Parenthood was a very pleasant experience. My doctor told me I was in fact pregnant and asked me what I planned to do. I told her that I intended to have an abortion. She gave me information about the clinics in my area and also briefly discussed the surgical procedure with me, then sent me out the door with a hug.
The experiences I had with my then partner have, unfortunately, left me with an overall negative view of religious pro-lifers. My partner was a strict Catholic who attended pro-life rallies and constantly criticized my pro-choice stance. However, when I broke the news of my pregnancy and my decision to him, he was suddenly very supportive of access to abortion, even saying, “thank God for Roe v. Wade.” I was so angry at myself for ever getting involved with someone like him. Things ended between us before I even had the abortion because his attitude was so disgusting. He didn’t even offer to accompany me to the clinic and instead wrote me a check for $300 which I later destroyed.
The walk into the clinic was everything I expected it to be. Little old men with white hair stood outside with graphic pictures that said things like, “aborted at 7 weeks.” My clinic offered escorts to walk you to and from your car. As I entered the clinic and waited to be buzzed in, one of the protestors offered me a pamphlet and I simply ignored him. He then said, “Look, if you don’t love your baby, you could at least love yourself.”
My best friend played the role of my “support person” on the day of my procedure. The women I saw in the waiting room were just like me in so many ways; some women were between college lectures and had their backpacks in tow. Some women were holding hands with their partners, vowing to do things differently next time. Some of the women were mothers who had accompanied their daughters to the clinic. The nurses and doctors were all so kind and tried to keep me smiling the entire time. The nurses held my hand, stroked my hair and wiped away my tears. Immediately after my procedure, I vowed to respect my sexuality, my body and myself enough to never date another pro-lifer.
Ten months after my procedure, I am not a bit ashamed of what I chose to do. I am now on birth control and heavily involved in the fight to protect the right to choose. I am majoring in English, minoring in Women’s Studies and holding down a steady 3.5 GPA. I plan on becoming a professor. My experience with my pro-life ex-lover has taught me a lot about myself and helped me to grow as a woman. I will never again date someone who chastises my beliefs or belittles the right to choose. I’ve shared my story with many of my friends and colleagues. Now whenever other young women find themselves in a similar predicament, I am able to talk with them about my experience. I am not sorry…and I never will be.
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