I can’t say I really wanted an abortion. But I chose one. And I’m glad for the choice I made, because it was mine, and it was the right one. Perhaps this isn’t the easy abortion narrative, but it’s still the path I took to my choice.
I would never get pregnant, was the thought. Not that I didn’t want to, but I thought it was physiologically impossible. I would love to be a mother. But it’s not what my deity planned for me. So I acted as such. And after exactly one year off HRT, bouncing back from hormonally induced menopause, I kept it up and found myself incredibly late on my period. This was not possible, but to satisfy my curiosity, I bought a box of pregnancy tests – just two. I took one. Inconclusive. I awkwardly went back to the Smith’s to return the tests, and bought two different brands.
I got home and within seconds of taking the test I was pregnant. I took all six tests, each positive. I jumped with joy. I never thought this was possible. I was so excited to tell everyone I could. My heart sunk when the gravity of reality hit. I have no idea who the father is. I did the math and there’s a chance it’s between a handful of individuals, each less impressive than the last. I have no clue if that man will provide or be present. I didn’t care. But also, I was reminded by everyone around me that it matters for the child who the parent is. My friends and family encouraged me to consider an abortion. I hadn’t initially and felt coerced and slut shamed. I was given money to have one, and did it despite wanting to have a child so badly. But now, I know I can.
It took weeks of talking with close friends and experiencing major hormonal and physical shifts. I cut out several psychiatric drugs. My eating disorders from high school were suddenly triggered by the inability to keep food down. All while I was stuck alone with the searching feeling of “how am I going to provide?” I am barely out of poverty. I’m behind on my taxes, I’m struggling to make credit card payments, my car needs repairs, I need a new bed, bigger grocery bill… now a baby? I couldn’t manage. I knew this.
After a heartbreaking soul-searching number of weeks suffering through a pregnancy I so wanted, it was time. I couldn’t go on, and the next morning I made an appointment to have an abortion. I left the doctors feeling sad, not relieved, like everyone told me I would. But it’s been two weeks since the procedure as I write this in September of 2025, and I sit with my decision proudly and happy I did it, knowing I will choose what I do with my body.