In 1979 I had an abortion. I wasn’t unhealthy, as far as I
know my child wasn’t unhealthy. As a healthy mother of a
healthy baby, I deliberately paid someone to kill my child
by dismemberment. The frog I cut up in biology class had a
better death; it was still whole when it arrived on my lab
table.
Why did I do this? I had several reasons. First, I was
embarrassed, even ashamed to tell my parents I was pregnant
without being married. They wouldn’t have beaten me, they
wouldn’t have thrown me out of the house, but they would
have been disappointed in me. Looking back, I can’t imagine
why I thought disappointing my parents one more time would
have been such a big deal. I disappointed them by dropping
out of high school, coming home drunk, not coming home at
all, and running away repeatedly. I mean, what’s once more?
As it turned out, it was more embarrassing and shaming when
I told them years later that I had aborted their first
grandchild.
Second, my boyfriend just wasn’t interested – it somehow was
just “my” problem, not “our” problem. Since then, I’ve seen
dozens of women raise children alone, and I’ve reproached
myself for my own cowardice.
Third, it was inconvenient. I had a day job and was going to
school at night. I’ve since worked with many pregnant women,
some of whom worked right up to their due dates. Pregnancy
is not a debilitating disease.
Fourth, it never occurred to me that I wouldn’t have another
chance. Never once did it cross my mind that I was killing
the only child I would ever bear. After all, I was only
twenty.
What it all comes down to is, I just didn’t want to. I was
selfish. Any mother in the animal kingdom has more maternal
feeling than I had. Mother birds risk their lives luring
cats away from their nest, a mother fox will fight to the
death for her kits, but I just couldn’t be bothered. I
didn’t wanna.
In exquisite irony, my mother became pregnant with my
youngest sister that same year. I’ve never cared to do the
math to see if we were pregnant at the same time. I love my
sister, but I’ve never been able to look at her without
seeing my own child.
Very few choices in life are final. If you drop out of
school, you can go back; if you hate your job, you can quit,
you can divorce an abusive spouse. But abortion, like
suicide, is a permanent choice that will never be forgotten.
-- Nina, Virginia |
