This happened in 1977. My thoughts and feelings have been the same since the moment I found I was pregnant. I am glad to be able to share them.
I had a severe seizure disorder and was suffering from depression. At the time, diagnosis and treatment for epilepsy and depression did not include therapy for the problems anti-seizure medications combined with tranquilizers can create. I had had a blood-clot in my lung in 1970, at the age of 19, and so responsible doctors advised against birth control pills. I had an IUD. It failed, and my husband impregnated me.
When I learned I was carrying an embryo, two things happened. One, I made a choice instantly to terminate, that is to say, to undergo a medical procedure which would evacuate my womb. I wasn’t exploiting the power of euphamism. I knew the cellular mass and DNA could become a fetus, but at that time it wasn’t. I made my decision instantly because I knew myself and my circumstances.
The second occurance was spontaneous. I had not pre-concieved a relationship with an embryo. I can’t explain it, only share it. The bottom line in this website is a collection of realities. One could call this part of my abortion “spiritual”.
I loved being pregnant. I loved every minute of it. I felt no remorse, regret, guilt, or embarassment about ending it. Whether or not I alone created it, I did have a relationship with the embryo inside me. We seemed to have known and loved each other for centuries. It was wordless, gossamer, discreet.
Very very little in my mind has been completely unchanging, but my solidarity with my decision to have an abortion and, as it seems, that brief little life’s blessing on my choice, have never changed. I am not sorry.
