I was in my 2nd year of law school when I got pregnant. I was in a 3 year relationship with a guy who wasn’t bad but probably not mature enough for me for 3 years. My parents were not particularly supportive, and in later years have admitted that had they let things alone, the relationship would probably have died a natural death. In any event, I began to feel nauseous and took a home-pregnancy test. I was not surprised that it was positive. I looked up clinics in the phone book, and found a Planned Parenthood clinic near my school. (I commuted about an hour away from home). I called, made an appointment, and went in the next day. Once I got there, I was told that I had just made the “cut-off” for the week (lucky break), and to come back tomorrow for the procedure. There was a mandated 24 hour waiting period, but I knew I wasn’t going to change my mind. I called my boyfriend, and told him, and I think he went with me. Oddly enough, in spite of after my no-muss, no-fuss attitude, and willingness to pay for entire procedure( I was working), I think he called me a “baby-killer” after that. The shame of it is, I laughed at him. It was my direction that had made his life so easy. I think that bothered him.
I had decided that a baby was not for me at the time, and it really was not a question. Personally, I believed that slowly leaching the soul out of an unwanted, or uncared for child, whether it be a matter of physical, financial, or even emotional deprivation was much worse than an abortion. But (until this site), closer to the truth was that I really wasn’t ready for a baby. Frankly, the father never really entered the equation. He could have wanted the baby until the cows came home, but it was always my belief that he could stay around, whereas I would HAVE TO. The next day, I went in for the procedure. I don’t remember any protesters, or any other discomfort. It did not take that long, it was clean, professional, the doctor and nurses were supportive without being clingy. I went home, had minor cramping, but went to work that evening anyway. Frankly, as selfish as it was, I felt rather good about having done something that could really have changed the course of my life.
As an aside, my father (slightly paranoid) was tapping all the house phones. Oddly enough he and my mother “confronted” me about the whole thing about 3 months later. They tried moral arguments, which I countered by saying my morality was MY BUSINESS. I think for a long time they felt betrayed, and I told them the betrayal was not theirs to feel, I had not robbed them of a grandchild (they actually have four by my half brother and great grandchildren). I had simply averted a responsibility, which I may not have been able to handle, and would have thrust on hem. I think they could not reconcile an abortion with a moral person, and it took more resolve than explanation on my part to explain that my choices are between me and my God, and no one else. Eventually, I think, they came to understand that there would be no guilt. I would be more than happy to explain it or share the experience with anyone who felt the need to understand.
To this day, I am immensely grateful for a number of things. First, that this right of choice was and remains available. I am grateful I was not plagued by the guilt I have heard from so many others. I am grateful that I was able to finish school and move on with the life I want. I am grateful that I am healthy, inside and out, and had the resources to do what I needed to do. I have never been sorry, and should I never have children, I will never regret that one act, or (as some would like to suggest), that that is punishment for what I did in school. I don’t think children are ever to be considered a punishment, for having intimate relations and perhaps if more people stopped looking at them that way, this issue might also be able to “die a natural death”.
Thank you for your site.
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