I am so sad and infuriated at America for stripping away reproductive rights of its residents and citizens and while I am thankful that New Zealand is not as restrictive as the US we still have a long way to go to remove abortion from the Crimes Act and to have abortion seen as a health matter. Abortion should not be a crime, and I believe that all people should have the option to have an abortion without being labelled as a criminal.
Seeing what is happening to reproductive rights in America spurred me to reach out to my friend (Robecca - owner of Sans Pareil) and ask if she could provide me with a platform to write about my abortion story and then after receiving a yes - I froze. I have shared the fact that I have had an abortion with friends, but the actual story? That is not something I have shared in detail with anyone. Doing so scares me; not because I have regrets or because I carry shame (I do not), but because there is so much stigma and judgment towards people who have made this decision for themselves. Robecca offered me the safety of being anonymous for this article, something that I am incredibly grateful for, as I have seen the negativity people like Michelle Duff and Paula Penfold have received in response to sharing their stories. While I am fearful of a google search of my name linking me to this, I know how powerful it is to have a name and a face to an abortion story so I made the decision to put my ‘internet name’ (as opposed to my ‘government name’) on the article.
To gain strength I read the stories others had shared about their abortions; the brave people featured on the Abort the Stigma facebook page have given me the feeling that yes, I too can share my story. Then I stumbled across an article that the telling of personal stories is helping remove the stigma. How could I not share mine in light of that? If I can help just one person feel less shame about a decision they’ve made for themselves then it is worth it, yes?
I have had two abortions. A year apart. Both were entirely the same, and YET entirely different all at once.
The first time I was in a loving relationship. I was on the pill, although it was one of those ones that you need to take within the hour every day and could never forget it, which unfortunately I often did. I can’t remember how I worked out that I was pregnant - I think it was the morning sickness. I took a home test, which confirmed the worst. My boyfriend said all the right things; that he loved me, that he would support me, and that it was entirely up to me. However he was also honest; he said he wasn’t ready to be a dad. As soon as he was honest, I realised that I had not even thought about myself. The truth of it was, I was not ready to be a mum. I did not want to be a mum.
I was a year out of high school, in a job where I earned minimum wage, living with my parents. To put it simply, I was not in the position I ever imagined myself in to start a family.
So we went to a doctor, who made me do another pregnancy test - just to be sure - then booked me in for a blood test, and a scan. After those results came back I was booked into the Greenlane clinic for a consultation.
Admittedly, this is 15 years ago so my memories are slightly hazy, but there are some things I remember strongly: the way the person who took my scan seemed disappointed I was not engaged with my scan, and the way their face changed when I said I was getting an abortion, how I felt when that scan turned up in the post a month after my procedure. I remember the fear that I went into the Greenlane clinic with because I knew that it was not my legal right to get an abortion. I will forever be grateful to a friend who had shared her abortion story with me. She told me that I would only get approved for an abortion if I said that my mental health would be ruined by going ahead with the pregnancy. My candidacy had to be approved by two separate medical professionals, and the questions were so hard. Somehow I made it through and gained the approval I was desperately seeking. I was scheduled to come back in two weeks for the procedure.
During these two weeks I bumped into my step-cousin at the supermarket. I hadn’t seen her in years, and given her ex-junkie status, thought I could safely confide in her. No such luck. She may have been abused drugs during her pregnancies, but at least she never murdered her children. I went home in tears after this exchange and in my despair I finally told my mum who gave me the ‘I am disappointed in you’ talk. She made me promise to never tell anyone in our family because of the stigma she would endure.
The procedure came and went, the medical team was wonderfully supportive on the day and I cannot thank them enough for all they did to support me, though the only truly clear memory I have of it is the mobile of blue butterflies I stared at during the procedure.
Fast forward a year, my boyfriend and I have had a nasty break up, but for some reason we have occasional ex-sex. Literally a year later I was in the same position again. Again, I knew that I only had one choice - there was no way I was ready to, or wanted to, have a child. As someone whose birth father was estranged - there was no way in hell I was going to be a sole parent.
This time around I did not have the support that my boyfriend had lovingly provided the previous year. I didn’t even have the strength to tell him, and I didn’t want him to think that I had done it deliberately to trap him. So I went and bought three bottles of the cheapest, nastiest sparkling wine available and sat on my bedroom floor drinking and crying, so angry at myself to be in this position again. I was still living with my parents. When mum came up to see what was wrong, and when I told her I was on the receiving end of the disappointment talk, again.
Thankfully, despite her disappointment mum came with me to be my required safe ride home after the procedure. Compared to my first abortion, I went through this second process pretty much alone, downing in judgement and disappointment. The only consistent thing from my first experience were those blue butterflies hanging above me during the procedure and the caring medical staff on the day. This time I got an IUD put in; which has been my choice of contraception ever since.
For me, the worst part of my story was not the procedure itself. The worst part was that I had to lie about my mental health to be considered eligible, but I spoke truthfully when I said “I would kill myself if I am forced to continue with this pregnancy” when getting screened the second time round. Even worse still, my mother had sworn me to secrecy to save face, only for me to find out years after the fact that she had betrayed my privacy and told her siblings that I had gone through the procedure. I learnt that my aunt had used my abortions as an example of what not to do for my younger cousin. The absolute worst part of an abortion, for me, is the stigma.
When deciding to write this, I touched base with my ex–boyfriend and told him that I will be sharing my story in case it was linked back to him. As always, he gave me his support but he also added, “our kid would be 14 this year, imagine that ''. The truth is, I don’t imagine that. I never think of it. Not even when I react with a love heart emoji to photos of the two beautiful children he has gone on to have.
I do not regret my abortions. I credit them with saving my life. I doubt I would have left the small town I grew up in if I did not have them. I doubt I would have the career that I have if I did not have them. I doubt I would be studying to further my career, like I am now, if I did not have them. I doubt I would have the life, the memories, and the friends I have in my life now, if I did not have them.
I wish that I could live without the stigma that surrounds abortion. I wish that we could discuss abortion with straight facts and without all of the misinformation that surrounds it. I wish people and governments would stay out of the bodily autonomy of others.
ALRANZ is a great resource for all abortion related news and articles and Abort the Stigma is a great platform for people to share their stories.
Written by Amanda Eirene
https://www.topic.com/a-brief-history-of-bullying-women-to-have-babies?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=topicsocial&utm_content=link&fbclid=IwAR0g05D2PQa0CYgzqDya6IZyQXxjzzCJrHuCG04yZYRX22LTOa6lD2ABYbQ
By Awkward Orchid
