About 6 weeks before my wedding, my boyfriend and I moved in together. A little earlier, I had gone to the local district health center to discuss birth control options. I decided on the Pill. They gave me a couple months’ worth but told me I needed to wait until the end of my next cycle to begin taking the Pill. Meanwhile, my boyfriend and I were careful. Most of the time. Sometimes we were not. I think that was because we knew we were getting married and wanted a family eventually. “Eventually” was the important word. I honestly didn’t think that I would get pregnant before I was ready. When my period was a week late, I knew that I was pregnant. I bought a home pregnancy test and my heart sank when I saw the two pink lines. I was not ready for a child. We weren’t ready for a family. I have always been radically pro-choice, but I never thought it would become so personal. My boyfriend had always been pro-life. His value system came tumbling down when he began to realize why choice is so important. We called the local Planned Parenthood and set up an appointment to discuss our options. My boyfriend comes from a really conservative background and we knew that his family would be appalled if we delivered a baby only 7 months into our marriage. I knew that my parents would be extremely supportive, but I did not want them to go through the agony of knowing their daughter was in such a position. We were not ready emotionally or financially to take care of a child, and I knew that I could not carry a child for nine months only to give him or her away. So that seemed to leave only one choice. Abortion. Planned Parenthood set up the appointment at the nearest facility, two hours away.
One week before our
wedding, we both took the day off work, giving our
bosses some lame excuse about pre-wedding stuff. As I
sat in the waiting room, I noticed that at 23, I was
one of the youngest women in the room. There were
women of all ages and types. Some by themselves, some
with men, some with other women. This is an issue
that can affect anyone. Some of that day comes back
to me as if i were watching it happen rather than
being there. I do remember that a counselor spoke
with my boyfriend and I to make sure we really wanted
this. I also remember the counselor speaking to me
alone to make sure I was not in an abusive
relationship and/or I was not being forced into the
abortion against my will. I remember appreciating
that. I remember the ultrasound. I was 7 weeks
along, and they would not let me look at the image. I
remember taking valium to calm my nerves. Then I was
on the table. That part is more vivid. My boyfriend
sat on one side, holding my hand. A nurse stood on my
other, holding my other hand. My boyfriend and I were
both crying. The nurse told that I was in an awful
situation, but that I was not an awful person. She
said that she understood, because she had once been
where I was. She told me that we had made a brave and
selfless choice. To have kept the baby when we knew
we couldn’t take care of him or her would have been
the selfish choice. I vaguely remember sitting in the
recovery room for a while. Then I remember being at
home lying on my couch. Exactly one week later, I
was married. My boyfriend is now my husband. We are
still married and have two beautiful daughters. We
are a family by choice.
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