My then-boyfriend and I used a condom every single time we had sex, and I was also on the birth control pill. This was also a time when I came down with mono and was prescribed huge doses of antibiotics. Though my physician (NOT a Planned Parenthood employee or my ob/gyn) knew I was on the pill and had been for years, he did not tell me that antibiotics could reduce the pill's effectiveness. I had no idea that this was the case.

One night, my boyfriend and I were having sex and the condom broke (the first and only time this has ever happened to me in more than a decade of sexual activity). We didn't worry too much about it since I was, after all, also on the pill. At this time, there was still no morning-after pill available, so we had the talk that most couples have (or should have) before they even begin having sex, the whole "What would we do if I got pregnant?" talk.

I have never wanted, and still do not want, children. My boyfriend, quite a bit older than I, felt the same way. He didn't want children; as a close friend of mine, I know he still doesn't. As a couple, this was an easy decision for us; we had both agreed years earlier that if I ever got pregnant, I would gladly and quickly have an abortion as soon as possible. We felt the same on the night the condom broke.

Less than a week after this, I began to feel (without exaggeration) worse than I ever have ever felt in my entire life. I felt worse than when I had mono, worse than I did while recovering from surgery after a serious accident. I threw up 3-10 times a day (and I mean every single day without fail), and sometimes more; my average was 7 or 8 times per day. I felt as if I had to urinate constantly, but then often could not (like having the worse kind of bladder infection). My breasts (large for my small frame to begin with) were so sore that I wore a sports bra to bed and, later, wrapped an ace bandage around my chest to keep them from moving at all. My hair fell out a little - not much, but still enough for me to notice small clumps coming out. My gums bled, and my nails were so hard that I could have climbed walls with them.

I know this isn't the case for every woman who becomes pregnant, but it was the case for me, and I certainly knew that I was not having a typical bout of PMS. I waited until the very early morning of the day my period was due and bought a home pregnancy test. It immediately showed that dreaded pink "+" sign. I knew then, without a doubt and as I had all along, that I wanted to have an abortion. The fact that I had been throwing up 7 times a day for the past two weeks only helped to convince me more.

Eventually, after all the ridiculous "pro-life"-inflicted waiting periods (waiting periods not required of the mothers of crack babies or 13-year-old girls who want to have babies to love them), I had the abortion I'd wanted all along. After recovering in a post-surgical room, I got dressed and walked into the clinic hallway. The doctor who performed my abortion was there, and I was practically in tears out of sheer gratitude as I shook his hand and thanked him profusely for giving me a safe, sterile procedure in a clean place with supportive staff. I later sent him and his entire staff a huge breakfast tray of coffee, bagels and muffins with cards for each of them as a thank you gift.

To this day, several years later, there has not been one single, solitary day that I've regretted my decision. I have never felt sad about it. I never once felt any emotional attachment to any "thing" inside of me. I am a scientist, and I know a great deal about human development. I know that women can have late periods that are actually miscarriages and never even know they were pregnant. When people imply that women should be attached to some cluster of cells inside of them, it makes no more sense than it would for me to be attached to the cells that leave my body during each menstrual cycle.