I was 25 and had just become engaged… not very dramatic. But, I am glad to be telling my story in a somewhat public way.

Two weeks after my future husband moved in with me, I got pregnant. I was excited and he was not. I wanted to keep the baby and he did not. I knew he wanted children eventually, but now was not the time; we were young and broke. Eventually, after quite a bit of thought, I agreed. We weren’t financially ready and we were only just beginning to know each other and figure out what we wanted to do with our lives. We would have children when we were BOTH ready.

The abortion was easy – thank goodness for modern medicine and my fantastic doctor. I firmly believed then, as I do now, that life isn’t a clump of non-differentiated cells.

Two years after we got married, we welcomed our very wanted first son. And three years after that, we welcomed our second son. For us, the abortion had been the right choice and I have never regretted it.

As a side note (and rather more dramatic), my mother is a staunch pro-lifer who helps run a “pregnancy crisis center” where they convince pregnant women to not have abortions. Years after the abortion, I told her that I had an abortion. She was furious and has subsequently gone around telling my extended family about my “sin”, named the “baby”, and prays to it in heaven. This makes me furious because it is flat out rude and designed to humiliate me. Clearly she is a person who can not put herself into other people’s shoes.

Not everyone is going to understand or accept my choice, thankfully it is MY choice, and thankfully the women who came before me fought for my right to make that choice. When someone tells me that they are anti-abortion, I ask them how many unwanted, neglected, and abused children they have adopted. That usually shuts them up.