I was 40 years old. I had already grieved 4 miscarriages. I suffered years of pelvic pain and depression afterward.

I thought I’d put the question of parenting behind me when I discovered that I was pregnant again, but this time without a supportive relationship.

I wavered between excitement and dread. I couldn’t bear wondering if this life, too, would simply cease to thrive. I sat death watch for several weeks, expecting to start bleeding any day. I decided the kindest, gentlest thing for my body would be to terminate. It was a difficult choice, and not without physical and emotional pain.