I’m just about the least likely candidate for an abortion but I had one. I was 34, married to a self-employed man and self-employed myself. My husband and I had made a very firm decision not to have children; we were both happy with this decision. We were not using birth control mostly because with only one functioning ovary, my chances of becoming pregnant were very small. Frankly, it wasn’t a terribly happy marriage so the occasions when we had sex were pretty infrequent. I knew he was fooling around although he tried to hide it from me, I’m not that stupid. I was angry and careless and had a short fling, as in one time, with a friend. I got pregnant. I was stunned. I was also sick, practically from conception. I quickly became convinced that there was something drastically wrong with the baby and that it might kill me to have it; rational or not, that’s honestly what I thought. I didn’ t tell any of this to that friend but I did tell my husband that I was pregnant, but not how it occurred; it was technically possible that it might be his. He was stunned. He and I had a long discussion wherein I raised the idea of abortion. He was amazingly supportive and not at all suspicious. We reaffirmed our goal not to have a baby and with me being sick on a daily basis, he agreed that if that was what I wanted, he would pay for it. We talked it over with my parents, who were sad but ultimately supportive; my health and happiness being their concern. The day of the appointment, he could not go with me so my parents went. There were protestors on both sides of the street and up the driveway, bearing horrid and hateful signs. I saw young girls going in that building, crying and hiding their faces. My parents and I walked in there calmly but I was furious. Any concerns I had for myself were forgotten over my concern for all these sad and scared young girls who were hurting so badly. The staff at the Planned Parenthood office was very nice and efficient; they explained everything and were most professional and caring. The procedure was a bit painful but I’d had a D & C before and pretty much knew what to expect. I was sad and hurting but mostly for those poor girls who felt like their life was over and whom the abominable right-to-life people outside the center were abusing. I was sore and weak the next day but almost immediately started feeling healthy again. When I later told the man at a holiday party at our house, I discovered that my guess about his probable reaction was correct. He stammered and blanched and backed away and practically ran out of the house. I’ve barely ever exchanged words with him since then. I’ve never regretted it for a second; never felt like a murderer, never ever looked at a baby and said, “Oh, I want one!” but I’ve been very careful not to let it happen again. My husband and I ended up divorcing without my ever telling him the truth about the event. He and I actually got to be better friends after the divorce than we were as marriage partners.
A few years later and I’m now married to a wonderful man with whom I
can
share everything. Yes, he knows about this story. And he didn’t
judge me
either.
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