My boyfriend, on the other hand, told his dad. The dad said I was going to ruin his son’s life.
March 31, 2013 was Easter Sunday. And it was also the day I had my abortion. Although I’ve never cared for holidays, this is the one that has stood out to me every year now. Since Easter doesn’t normally fall on 03/31, there are two days out of the year that always feel like a slap in the face to me; that’s because it pains me to remember the reasons for which I chose abortion.
I was with my partner for 2 years when I became pregnant, and I had just turned 20. Once I found out, I immediately remembered all the times my parents talked down about other family members who became pregnant before marriage and how “shameful” it was.
Being the daughter of immigrants, I would always hear relatives living outside of the country say that “those who come to America are reckless, sex-loving maniacs.” One aunt even told my mother she foresaw me getting pregnant at a young age.
Obviously, I didn’t tell my family about the pregnancy. My boyfriend, on the other hand, told his dad. The dad said I was going to ruin his son’s life.
As a severe people pleaser, I didn’t want to bring shame upon my family and I didn’t want to “ruin” my boyfriend’s life, so I began searching for an abortion clinic.
I wouldn’t trade my decision for the world.
It was the very correct decision for me at the time & I also learned so much about accessibility and the difficulty in getting an abortion.
First, I had to find someone with a car who could take me. That required telling my story and opening up to a stranger. Then came the obstacle of crossing state lines to get the procedure done closer to me but that state required two visits, including a waiting period! I chose to stay in my home state for it, but the travel was long and I already felt uncomfortable for inconveniencing my driver.
Upon arrival, I had an awkward vaginal ultrasound and then I was forced to talk to a counselor who essentially interrogated me on whether or not I thought the collection of cells within me was alive. She then proceeded to compare the growth to a fruit I had just eaten that very morning.
As I said, I wouldn’t change my choice; I’d make the same choice a hundred times over. But I would change my reasons: instead of doing it to save my parents’ face and instead of doing it so my boyfriend’s life wouldn’t be “ruined,” I’d do it for myself. I’d do it because I didn’t want to go through a pregnancy, I’d do it because didn’t want to go through a birth while in college.
My partner and I split up 2 years ago, and today marks 8 years since my abortion. I now work with kiddos in foster care and hope to adopt one.
