popping out a baby when we can’t afford one, don’t have time for one, and truly don’t want one, is completely irresponsible
I am a veterinary surgeon. That is a career goal that took 27 years of school, including 15 years of college/higher education to obtain. I know how bodies work. I understand physiology. I took embryology in undergrad and we grew chickens from conception without shells, allowing us to visualize, under a microscope, almost every step of the embryonic growth process. A glob of cells starts to organize early, and like-cells gather together. Some of those cells have leaky cell membranes that allow more electrolytes inside of the cell compared to other cells. The increase of electrolytes inside the cell cause the cell to contract, and it causes the cells adjacent to them, that are also leaky, to contract with them in synchrony. Boom. We have a “heartbeat”. There’s no brain. There’s no consciousness. There’s no feeling. There is a group of cells contracting because of electrolytes leaking through its membrane! That’s it! It’s more like a CELLBEAT than a heartbeat!
Not everyone has to be raped or a victim of incest to want or need uterine autonomy.
In the second year of my surgical residency, one and a half years away from finally being done with my decades-long journey to reaching my dream career goal, I got pregnant.
It was an accident. I was on birth control pills, although admittedly, I didn’t take them at the exact same hour and minute each day, like some of my friends. I was in a surgical residency, some days I was at the hospital more than twenty four hours straight. My partner was my husband, my very loving, caring, super supportive, fucking awesome husband. My awesome husband of 13 years at the time (18 years now). Not only was he a fabulous husband, he was also a phenomenal, awesome, loving father to our 11 year old super star daughter. My husband and I had a good marriage, and still do. We were both very busy and ambitious people. While I was in my surgical residency, he was a full time student finishing his bachelors degree in Corporate Finance, and working a full time internship at a finance company an hour away from our home. Our daughter, being a single child, was very mature and independent for her age. She was a perfect baby. She was a perfect child. She is easy going, loving, caring, happy, healthy…everything a mother could dream of having in a child. I joke that I won the child lotto and that I got the perfect child, or I took the best baby home from the hospital. But she literally had one single night of colic in her infancy, otherwise slept through the night almost since coming home from the hospital. I would have to wake her up to nurse her. She is social and giving, and I truly couldn’t ask for more in child if I was able to choose their attributes to make them perfect. The only downside to my daughter being brought into this world was my horrendous pregnancy with her. I was sick for seven of the eight months I was pregnant with her. I couldn’t keep anything down. I would eat, vomit, and eat again routinely. I had bile cholestasis, where the bile your liver makes doesn’t move through the ducts like it should, it gets stuck and bile backs up into the liver. A side effect of the chloestasis is the back up of bile causes your skin to itch. Horribly itch. Everywhere. I have scars on my shins from scratching them until they bled the last month of my pregnancy. I slept with ice packs taped to my legs and forearms for a month because it helped soothe the itchiness. And you can’t take any medication to make it better, because you’re pregnant. My daughter was six weeks early. My labor was 14 hours of excruciating pain (thank you tilted cervix) leading to an emergency cesarean section. The day after I delivered my daughter, I weighed less than I did before I was pregnant. Needless to say, going through another hellish pregnancy was never a bridge I wanted to recross in my lifetime.
I also thought of the life my husband and I had planned out for ourselves and our family, then, the theme song from Married With Children played in my head to the motion picture of the downward spiral our lives would take if we chose to have another child. This was not part of our life plan at all. Yes, life plans can change, but this decision had the power to take our path into a turn towards poverty and resentment, and with my anxiety and bipolar disorder, honestly, potentially even death.
I told my husband immediately about being pregnant. The positive test explained my tender breasts, profuse vomiting for the past week, and intense exhaustion I had been feeling. We had a discussion that night. We both had similar feelings. Although we would love to give our daughter a sibling, and parent another awesome child, we were in no position to bring another child into this world. First, this world sucks ass, and if I had been more conscious and aware when I was younger, I would never have birthed offspring to begin with. The world is ridiculously overpopulated and filled with vile, evil humans that are a virus to our earth. Second, we were both smack dab in the middle of our career paths. If we’d stop or pause to focus on a larger family, we’d be stuck in Ohio for longer (were California natives and that’s a big change). More freezing winters. And how would we survive financially? We were not at all financially stable. He was in an internship and I was in a residency. We could barely make our adult sized bills (we used to have a real adult life – cars, house, fun, vaca, medical bills – before I undertook my residency, so we had a huge adjustment going from a three figure income to less than half of that over the past few years as I chased my dream). We couldn’t work anymore than we both already were. There wasn’t enough hours in the day. I was already working 70+ hours per week and barely was able to spend time with my daughter as it was. I already felt like the worst mom ever during my residency. Sorry kid, you can’t go to that after school activity, mom’s chasing her dream. Sorry kid, you have to hang out at the hospital until 10pm because mommy’s chasing her dream.
I also didn’t think there was any possible way my body could make it through another pregnancy. I was 39, at that age, I was considered a “geriatric” pregnancy. Increased chance of developmental problems, like Down’s syndrome with the baby. Bile cholestasis would likely occur again, and potentially be worse, or begin earlier on this time. Playing the odds, it’s also very unlikely we’d win the child lotto again, so who knows what kind of hooligan might pop out. Maybe I’m selfish, I wanted to complete my surgical residency, I was so close, and an infant would be a giant hurdle to finishing. I didn’t want to change diapers again. My daughter would be in high school soon, and then off to college. My husband and I would have the opportunity as a young couple to travel and spend more time together and pick up hobbies, but with a child, that sets our life plan back almost 15 years. That’s a big deal to us. There were so many reasons pointed us to not having another baby. We would love to see what another melded version of the two of us would turn out like, what they’d look like, act like. Give our daughter a sibling. We like having control over our life, and popping out a baby when we can’t afford one, don’t have time for one, and truly don’t want one, is completely irresponsible. And our other option of adoption, meant I would have to carry the child to term, if I could with my gestational history, which I didn’t think possible, and had no desire to attempt. And to what end? To hope that the child is adopted to a loving home, and not sucked into the shitty ass foster system of this country? I’m not sure which choice is more irresponsible.
It did not take long for us to know we wanted to abort the cluster of cells attached to my uterine lining. I was extremely lucky in that I lived only an hour from the only Planned Parenthood in Ohio that performed abortions. I made an appointment, the first available was a week away. Another week of pretty much nonstop vomiting and feeling like shit, trying to focus on my patients during my 16 hour days, trying not to puke when I was scrubbed into surgery, and still get everything else done I was supposed to around the house, as a mother and a wife.
The first appointment with planned parenthood was a brief physical and mostly just talking. Ohio law required at least 24 hours between abortion counseling and the actual procedure. Unfortunately, due to that requirement and scheduling availability, they didn’t have time the next day to perform the abortion. The first available doctor with ability to perform abortion was not for ten days. Ugh. Another ten days of nausea, exhaustion, stress; I wanted this over. It was already impacting my life more than I wished it would.
Ten days went by slow. I vomited almost everything I ate. I slept every minute I was home. I was ridiculously emotional, for many reasons, as you may imagine. I did nothing around the house. My daughter wanted to know what was wrong with me. Life didn’t stop just because I was having this pregnancy, and it about ran me over.
Finally, my husband drove me to the clinic when it was the tenth day. They required an escort if you chose to have heavy sedation for the abortion, which, being a doctor, I know the benefits of, and elected to have sedation. The escort was required to stay in the building the entire time you are there but could not be with you during the procedure. When we arrived, there were a couple of protesters outside of the clinic. Seeing them did not bother me at all. I did not have any guilt for getting an abortion. I wasn’t murdering a child, like the prolife activists make it seem – like every abortion is chopping up a full term fetus. Roll my eyes. The doctor was simply going to scrape a cluster of cells from my uterine wall and suck them out. It was not going to cause anyone pain besides me.
When we checked into the clinic, they made my husband wait in the front waiting room while I was taken to the back area. Only patients and medical staff were allowed in the back. The escorts all waited and were told they could visit the patients in recovery, and it would be awhile. At first I thought this was strange and uncomfortable to walk back there alone, but it was soon obvious they wanted to ensure the decision of abortion was truly the woman’s choice.
Once I was in the back of the clinic, I was again given a physical exam, and the nurse reviews a thorough history with me. It was very clear they were trained not only to straight out ask if I was here and having an abortion because it was my choice, and no one was forcing me to do it, but it also seemed like they were examining me for any chance I wasn’t there under my own choosing. It was obvious they wanted to make sure that anyone who had an abortion had considered their options thoroughly, and had chosen abortion on their own volition. It made me feel good knowing how seriously they took that, as I can only imagine some of the circumstances that bring women to choose abortion. I was lucky. I respected and appreciated that my right to choose how my life plays out, and how many children I have, the life I can provide for them, and what is grown in my own uterus is only and ultimately controlled by me.
After the physical exam, and additional counseling by both a doctor and a nurse, and being given additional informational pamphlets required by law from prochoice groups, I had the required preabortion ultrasound. When you sign the ultrasound waiver, there is a question you must initial that asks whether you would like to hear the heartbeat, if there is one. This question made me pause, but not for the reason you might expect. I listed to Doppler heartbeats every day as a surgeon. I realize that the heartbeat of my embryonic zygote is only those cells with extra electrolytes because they have leaky membranes. It didn’t bother me in the least to hear the heart – or the cellbeat (that’s what it should be called – cellbeat is much more accurate). There is no heart at this stage. There are no auricles, atria, or ventricles. Only a clump of contracting/beating cells. I began to wonder if it bothered the ultrasonographer to hear the cellbeat. Probably not, I quickly concluded, they do this every day. If it did, they wouldn’t be doing it. Then I wondered what would be quickest; I really wanted to get to the comfort of my husband (he was still in the front waiting room) and have this whole thing over. There was no box to mark “I don’t care” whether I heard the cellbeat or not. So, I marked yes, and then hand-wrote, I don’t care, next to it. I didn’t want anyone to think it would stress me out if I heard the cellbeat.
So during the transvaginal US, the nurse told me I was about nine weeks pregnant, and there was a heartbeat. She looked at the papers I signed and then asks if I would like to hear it. I told her it didn’t matter to me one way or the other, and If it was going to be faster then there is no news for me to hear it. She smiled and said she’d just move on. Everyone in the back was very supportive, nice, nonjudgmental, helpful. Someone even held my hand when they poked me with the needle to start the fentanyl.
If I didn’t have the choice of abortion in Ohio, I would have flown to another state, or country, where abortion was legal. I would have paid any amount of money (not that I had it) to be able to choose my life path. The right to choose my life path is so very important to me. There are so many things in life we cannot control, I want to control any aspect that I can which has the potential to help me, my daughter, my family, friends, etc succeed. I could only imagine the domino effect of me having another baby….having to drop out of my residency because I wouldn’t be able keep up with the required workload due to sickness and exhaustion, or I can’t make ends meet with that low of income in our life with another child; we’d have to stay in Ohio because we couldn’t afford to move back to our family on the west coast. Not being able to pay rent with the jobs we have, especially with going on maternity leave and having to pay for daycare 3 months postpartum, if I can find a job. Maybe we would get evicted because we can’t pay rent. My husband would had to drop out of school and his internship to work full time – but would only be qualified for minimum wage jobs with only a partial college education – perhaps homelessness wasn’t that far away from our reality…these are all things I considered as I chose the path I wanted my life to sail. It is what I thought of as they trickled fentanyl into my vein and scraped my would be offspring, a beating clump of cells, off my uterine wall. The abortion itself felt like some cramping, but likely would have been much worse without the fentanyl.
After the abortion, the nurses helped me groggily walk through the door to the recovery room, where they had a warm blanket waiting for me. I was still very sedated and it took about a half hour to come partially to my senses. Once they were happy I knew who I was, and where I was, they allowed my husband in to see me. We drove home, both relieved that this ordeal was over, and both accepting that we chose ourselves, our lives, over a clump of cells. I did not and do not wonder what if, at all, about that pregnancy. I recognize we were at an impasse in our life and were forced to make the most of a difficult choice, and we were both content with our choice. We did not feel like murderers. We felt like responsible adults, making a very difficult decision regarding a giant issue that drastically impacts what is best for our family.
The week before my abortion, my daughter found the Planned Parenthood website up on my iPad. She’s an intelligent girl. She immediately asked what an abortion was. At first I was ashamed that she found it, I didn’t want to tell anyone, let alone her. But then I began to truly appreciate the opportunity to educate her on exactly why we were making the decision we were making, and what abortion actually is, so she doesn’t fall for all of the crazy propaganda that’s out in society.
After a few days and multiple, sometimes emotional, discussions, my daughter (11 years old), extremely disappointed that her only chance of a possible sibling (ever) was being stolen from her, came to me and said she thought about it and she thought we were making a good decision. We were being smart. She didn’t like it and wished she could have a sibling, but she understood why I was going to get an abortion. I could not have received a more powerful, touching gift from anyone. I now know that she will forever consider her options closely, how they will impact her life, and not be afraid to make difficult decisions if they are the best decision for you. This situation has provided me the opportunity to teach her to consider her options thoroughly, and educate her on abortion.
If you’re still reading, I will finish by explaining what prompted me to #shoutmyabortion. The Ohio heartbeat bill passed in 2018, and the Texas heartbeat bill went into effect today. My husband and I were discussing the bill and he told me he was happy to see it pass. My jaw dropped. He believed, like soooo many others, that if there was a heartbeat, there was a body, a baby, and an abortion at that stage, with a heartbeat, would be murder.
I stopped in my tracks. At first confused at why he would say this, when he damn well knew that we chose to have an abortion within the past few years and that the zygote had a cellbeat. Then I remembered that he was not in the room when I had the ultrasound and learned how far along I was. I was also dumbfounded at his lack of knowledge of embryologic growth, especially since he’d audited medical school physiology classes previously and – I don’t know, I just assumed he had that knowledge. I immediately educated him on the facts. I felt like I couldn’t get the words and information to him fast enough. How could he not know this? Well, he’s not a woman and it doesn’t directly affect him. Then I also remember my clients, and how the general public usually does not understand how a piece of food goes from mouth to anus, and, as multiple law makers have demonstrated, there is much ignorance regarding women’s reproductive health; we can’t re-implant ectopic pregnancies reliably and safely.
I told my husband that the abortion that I/we had, did in-fact end a heartbeat, but not a beating heart. I explained the difference, the estimations of expected zygote/fetal development over time, and how big/advanced our tiny aborted zygote was. I explained a CELLBEAT and the difference between a cellbeat and heartbeat. I had to make sure he was not ignorant on this subject ever again!
I couldn’t believe that he didn’t have this information! My husband! Who had gone through a pregnancy with me, who is extremely intelligent, who was so supportive, who was the husband of a doctor! How could this have happened? I was so glad I was able to educate him, and hoped he’d spread the facts. I appreciated even more, my opportunity to educate my daughter at the time of my abortion; she will be ahead of the majority with her knowledge and understanding on this topic.
But if MY husband, with his intelligence, education, and experience, thought that the heartbeat bill was a good law, what on earth impression is the rest of the world under? How ignorant is the world when it comes to embryology?? I am immediately terrified. It comes second nature to me because of my education and career. But others don’t have that information and education. How many people would actually want the bill to pass if they truly understood how a baby grows and what abortion really is?
As a result of this realization, I have been strongly inclined to use my experience to educate others. It is heart wrenching to me that a woman may choose not to have an abortion, and have an unwanted child, and try to raise it in guilt, because she thought that she was murdering a baby by getting an abortion. What kind of life is that for her? What kind of life is that for the child? Unless you have taken embryology, and have knowledge of how an embryo develops, you have no authority and no right to ever comment that abortion is murder. It is nothing other than a bunch of cells when it is performed early. I do not condone late term abortions (except under specific life threatening circumstances…there will always be exceptions), however there is vast societal ignorance that a baby is a baby, that it can feel like a baby does, from the time of conception. This is FALSE!!
One last IMPORTANT point of clarification. I had been pregnant before, so I knew the signs of pregnancy. I had severe morning sickness with both pregnancies from the very beginning – from about week six. I am somewhat intelligent and very in-tune with my body, so let’s assume I realized I was pregnant earlier than many women might. I found out I was pregnant at week SIX – AFTER a “heartbeat” was present (about six weeks). Summary:
*Discovered pregnancy at week SIX, after only one week of missed period and feeling sick
*Had to wait one week to get appointment at Planned Parenthood to talk about my options
*Had to wait another 10 days for the actual abortion…..
6 weeks + 1 week + 10 days = about 8.5 weeks pregnant…so, with my previous pregnancy experience, education, intelligence, medical career…there would be absolutely no possible way for me to have the abortion before six weeks into pregnancy.
I would be forced to take a different life path. I would not be able to choose my destiny. Some ignorant idiot lobbyist-paid-off government official would choose my life path for me.
Fuck that! Stand up. FIGHT!! That’s the ONLY way we got these rights in the first place!!! Take ownership of YOUR uterus, and YOUR body, and YOUR life plan! Tell your story. Show why abortion is an important option for women to ALWAYS have available. You don’t have to have been raped or a victim of incest for abortion to have been the right choice for you. You should not feel ashamed that YOU CHOSE YOU.
