My husband and I were married and had a three-year-old son when I discovered I was pregnant a second time. Our son had been a "surprise" pregnancy, too, almost four years prior to this, but we had both quickly adjusted to the idea of having the baby and were quite happy about it. This time around, however, I was not at ALL happy or excited. I was afraid and filled with dread. We both had low-paying jobs, and we were both in school. I had always said that if we had another child, I couldn't handle it until our first was at least eight years old. I just felt I wouldn't be able to be a mother to two small children at once, while working full time just to make ends meet. I could delay my graduate program if I had to, and I was willing to do that...but the idea of raising another child just overwhelmed me. I couldn't do it. I didn't tell my husband that I was pregnant. Things were not going well with us at the time; I realize now it was the strain of finances and overworked lives. I was pretty sure that he would support my decision, but I wondered if he would throw it back at me later in an argument, trying to make himself the morally superior person. Sometimes he did that sort of thing back then. I just didn't know what his reaction would be, and I didn't want his reaction to complicate what I was doing. In a way I felt a little guilty, thinking, "This is 1/2 of his, too," but it FELT like it was more my decision somehow. (And it was, I now see.)

I went to a hospital in the city where I live. I made the appointment through my gynecologist's office. This was before the medical abortion was approved, and I agreed to be a kind of guinea pig for a mifepristone and misoprostol trial. A very nice, supportive nurse talked with me and then did an intervaginal ultrasound. They inserted an ultrasound wand into my vagina. It didn't hurt at all. She had to call another technician into the room because she couldn't see anything. The pregnancy test they gave me proved I was pregnant, but it was so early that they couldn't see anything. Finally they located it, and they asked if I wanted to see it on the screen, and I did. A faint light area showed up against the darker background of my uterus. It was about the size of the tip of my pinky, and that was on the screen, which was magnified. I felt very optimistic about what I was going to do. I was relieved that I didn't see a head, arms, legs, torso, etc. It was at the "bundle of cells" stage. I then took the mifepristone while the nurse observed, and then she told me how and when to take the misoprostol at home. Apparently it's not done this way now because of the risk of bacterial infection, but at that time (this was 1995) I was instructed to insert the pill high into my vagina so it would dissolve up there and cause the uterus to contract and expel the uterine lining and the "fetal material." I was lighthearted when I went home, but my husband didn't know of any of this, so looking back I realize I should have enlisted a friend to be on call because about an hour after I inserted it I BLED. I bled so much. And I had the worst cramps. I lay on the couch moaning. I told my husband it was my period and he brought me a heating pad. Finally the cramps went away and it was just bleeding. I remember being on the toilet and these huge clumps would come out. I kind of wanted to see "it" -- not sure what to call "it" -- it didn't feel like it was "a baby" or a "fetus" or even "an embryo." It really was a blastocyst. I wanted to see it but I couldn't, because there was so much of all that uterine lining and blood. After a day the bleeding lessened. Soon after I went back for another ultrasound to determine I wasn't pregnant anymore. I had to fill out a ton of paperwork about my experience with the medical abortion and rated it pretty low. I felt it was hard to know if the amount of bleeding was normal or if I might have been hemorrhaging. I was concerned that it wasn't as safe doing it in the privacy of my own home. My overall feeling, however, was RELIEF! I felt so GOOD that I was able to control my own destiny and the wellbeing of my family and that we wouldn't be plunged into poverty. I felt no sadness whatsoever. And no, I wasn't turning my emotions off or trying to fool myself. I just honestly felt happy and relieved.

The second time was two years later. My husband and I were barely speaking but some days were good. On one of the "good" days we had sex and the diaphragm must have slipped again. (And I was using the spermicide with it each time.) I was sure I wanted an abortion but when a good friend of mine told me, "Well, there's no question, you'll just have to have an abortion," a part of me rebelled. I didn't want to have an abortion just because others might think it was the best thing for ME. I thought, "Why can't there be a question? What if I WANT to have a baby?" So that time I took a little time to decide if I wanted to have one, or not. Again, I decided, no. This time I did feel a little sadness over it. I felt guilty for "letting it happen" (conception) a second time. I went back to the same hospital but opted to have a surgical abortion this time because I didn't want the prolonged effects of that medical abortion. They used this electric machine that suctioned out the contents of my uterus. It was loud, like a vacuum cleaner, and there were several people in the room, all huddled together, not talking. I didn't like the atmosphere; it felt very negative. The cramps were suddenly awful and when I cried out, a nurse rushed up to hold my hand, which was comforting. I wish the people doing the procedure had talked more. It felt very hushed and secretive. Afterwards an intern came up to me as I was lying there and asked me what kind of birth control I was using and when I told him, I felt like I was being chastised for having needed an abortion more than once...but it might have been my own self-blame. The procedure didn't take long, but my reaction was more of a sober relief, not the happiness I'd felt before. I was aware that I felt two things: a little sadness and a great relief. It took me a long time to realize that it was okay to feel both at once. Being in favor of a choice doesn't mean that the one you choose always makes you feel elated.

The third and final abortion was two years after the second. This time when I saw the "positive" on the pregnancy stick, I felt much the same way I'd felt the first time -- as in, "Nope, not going through with it." I had lost my fulltime job at one university as a financial aid counselor during cutbacks and was only teaching two classes a semester as an adjunct at another. So my income was quite small, as was my husband's, and I had no benefits for maternity leave. As with the first two, this pregnancy was terminated within the first four or five weeks. I am glad that I acted quickly because the decision might have been more difficulty for me if it had had to be made later on in the pregnancy. Earlier, for me, meant I was less conflicted. Because of the negative energy in the room during the last abortion, I chose to go to a private place, the location of a doctor who was a prominent abortion provider in our area. He often had lots of protestors outside but they usually were not there on Wednesdays, the day my appointment was scheduled for. When I was buzzed into the building I glanced at the waiting room and saw one of my male students in there, sitting with a young woman. I felt a little panicked. He didn't see me, but even if he had, this doctor did a lot more than just abortions, so maybe my student wouldn't assume I was having an abortion. At the same time, I didn't want him to see me. I had to be checked in before I went into the waiting room, so I told the person checking me in about the situation with my student there in the waiting room. She was very kind and had me go through the office to another area of the building. Everyone was so accommodating. While I was waiting in a separate room, I heard a young woman crying hysterically and saying, "No, no, no!!" and that filled me with fear. I was afraid it was going to hurt. I was afraid of the noise of the aspirating machine, the one that I knew would sound like a vacuum cleaner. When I was taken into the room for the procedure, I was surprised at how comfortable it was. There was a portable ultrasound machine, and when the doctor came in, he cheerfully did a quick intervaginal ultrasound, which took about three minutes. He told me what he saw, offered to show me the screen, which I consented to. Again, a teeny blastocyst, a bundle of cells. Then he simply took a large manual aspirator which looked like a giant syringe with no needle, inserted it into my vagina and a little bit into the cervix, and pulled the end out. I grabbed onto the nurse's hand, expecting terrible cramps, but actually it didn't hurt at all. She was very nice and patted my shoulder. The only mild pain I had was just the feeling of the aspirator in the cervix, but that wasn't awful. He did it one or two more times, and then he inserted the vaginal wand for the ultrasound machine again, and then we were done. The whole thing took less than five minutes. I was very happy and relieved. The only problem I encountered was that at the time, I was on my husband's insurance policy. He was working for very little pay as financial administrator for a Catholic organization and guess what? The insurance policy from them did not cover abortions. So I had borrowed money from my brother for this abortion, telling him it was for car repairs. He would have been supportive but I never considered sharing this information with anyone. I thought it was the kind of thing a woman kept to herself; "decent women don't talk about things like that in polite company." And because I had the Rh factor, I needed an injection, which the insurance company also would not pay for. That bothered me. It shouldn't have had anything to do with the abortion, but they refused to pay for it. It was another 300 dollars. I almost just went without it, but I knew it would put me at risk for miscarriage if I got pregnant again and wanted to carry a baby to term. I was able to scrape up the money the next week and get the shot.

Years later, the nice older man who was the doctor was interviewed in the paper and made some comment about how he's sympathetic to women who need abortions "until it becomes a habit." That angered me; I felt it was extremely patronizing. Women are sexual creatures, just like men. We get pregnant many times without intending to. It doesn't mean we're "playing with fire" or being careless. It is okay to be passionate and sexual. Our pregnancies are not punishments for being sexual. We have a right to terminate them as we see fit.

Two years later my husband and I had worked out our differences, our financial situation stabilized, we finished school, and our son was older. We decided to try for another child. Three months later, I was pregnant. The pregnancy was joyous and wonderful. There was no feeling of "Oh, this is what the others COULD have been." Our older son was almost ten when his sister was born and our family is complete. I feel a sense of happiness that my right to control my fertility were honored by good people. I am not sorry. For awhile I felt guilty that I DIDN'T feel guilty or sorry. A good friend of mine is a rabid anti-choice person and she knows nothing of my fertility history. She assumes that women who don't feel guilty for their abortions are repressing grave mental conditions, but I know better. I hope someday I can break the silence of women who have had abortions and do not regret their decisions. This story is a small start.