I have never written these words before, I had an abortion. I was 25 and my boyfriend and I had broken up (and fortunately a few months later we got back together and we are married for close to 40 years). An old work buddy and I went to a baseball game and I had one beer too many and went back to his apartment and I thought he had used a condom. He hadn’t and my period was late. I called him and he basically said I am Catholic, I can never marry you and I don’t believe in abortion and hung up.
In the mid 1980’s there were no at home pregnancy tests, I didn’t know what to do. Finally, I told my best friend, my mother. She didn’t judge me, just took me to our gynecologist and of course I was pregnant. He said at 6 weeks pregnant it would be an easy abortion. I love children, but my parents helped me make the decision that it was not the right time. I had a good job, and there would be no father in the picture. In the end, I knew it was the right thing to do. It was no one else’s decision and while I will never forget that I had one, no one has the right to judge me. I have had 2 children since then and have shared my story with one of them.
