These are the two children I was able to raise because I had an abortion two years before the first was born. I made it through twelve weeks of bed rest, my blood pressure skyrocketing to stroke level, my kidneys and my liver failing, because it was my choice to do so. I made it through colic, anaphylactic food allergies, autism, runs to the ER, picky eating, six years of breastfeeding, and a decade in which I didn’t sleep through the night because I had that choice. I’m making it through the tween and teen years because I had a choice. Children are too precious, and too hard, to be a punishment for a broken condom. They should never be the result of no other option. I am a better mother because I freely chose this, in all its messy and sleep-deprived glory. This was not my Plan B, but my Plan A, and I want that for my babies. I want that for all our babies, and for all of us.
