Telling Our Abortion Stories
March 8, 2010 by Carol King · 27 Comments
“She threw herself down the stairs.” That’s what I heard about abortion as a kid in the ’60s. I was told the young woman had risked her life in a desperate attempt to induce a miscarriage.
The next time someone brought up abortion, a friend of mine told me she’d locked herself in the bathroom and used a homemade lye douche to abort. When she woke up in the hospital, she learned she was no longer pregnant but she would never be able to conceive again. That’s what I knew about abortion when I entered college in 1968, one year after the Summer of Love.
While free love was in the air, abortion was illegal and I had no idea how anyone would go about finding a provider, let alone making sure it was safe . Then I got pregnant.
I was a freshman in college. My father had died the year before and my boyfriend had recently returned from Vietnam and had his own share of problems. He had a simple solution: I’d drop out and we’d get married. He argued that I wouldn’t need a degree since I’d be staying home taking care of him and our child(ren). I didn’t see it that way.
To this day, I can recall the fear and dread I felt when the doctor pulled off his glove after my first gynecological exam and told me I was pregnant. Panicked, I assured him I’d be all right. I was going to get married. I just wanted to get out of that office and think. I knew I wasn’t just looking at nine months of pregnancy, I was looking at a lifetime of abandoned dreams and hopes for a better future. It was the certain knowledge that I would bear more than my share of the child-rearing. It was knowing how devastating it would be to my devout Catholic mother, who was so proud of me and sacrificed so much to help me pay for school. I was the oldest of four and the first in our extended family to go to college. It was not the example I wanted to set for my siblings. I was convinced there was no way out for me. Even if I knew how to find an abortion, it would be illegal, too expensive and most likely dangerous. It was (and remains) the only time in my life I seriously contemplated suicide.
When I was in high school in Detroit, we used to whisper when a pregnant acquaintance “had to get married.” That doesn’t mean much to young people in the U.S. today. We’ve become accustomed to women choosing to be parents with or without benefit of a partner. At that time, a pregnancy out of wedlock wreaked havoc in many families. Hasty weddings were arranged or the pregnant young woman was sent to a home for unwed mothers or to visit “family” somewhere far away. She’d return after giving birth, her child adopted. Having an “unwed mother” in the family was a source of deep shame and humiliation. Being an “unwed mother” meant you were easy, a slut, a tramp. I’m grateful that’s changed for some, but there are still cultures and communities where forced marriages and honor killings result.
As for me, I got “lucky.” I miscarried in the dorm bathroom, surrounded by college girlfriends who stayed with me in shifts, holding my hand, reading to me or playing music to distract me from the pain. When it was over, seven or eight hours later, they put me to bed and called the health services doctor for instructions. At his request, one of those dear friends fished the fetus out of the toilet, put it in a jar and then inside a bag, and got on a bus to take it to health services to make sure it was intact (the doctor wanted to be sure no fetal matter was left in me). While a frightening experience, it is one of my most cherished memories because of the solidarity of women. The woman who took that bus remains a dear friend and has my undying gratitude.
The boyfriend soon married someone else–who was also pregnant. I was able to graduate and get on with my life. I joined my local NOW chapter and quickly became involved in the struggle for reproductive rights, staying involved in a variety of ways through the years.
I am past my childbearing years, but I still get angry about what’s happening to women who are trying to control their fertility. It should be simple: Motherhood should be a choice and it should be one that’s informed by reality, not happily-ever-after fairy tales.
I’ll be posting regularly on the Ms. Blog about reproductive rights. I can’t think of a more appropriate place for us to take back this issue. I’ve been reading Ms. since Wonder Woman graced the cover the first time in 1972; it’s exciting to be part of its extension into the blogosphere.
I’ll also be developing ideas for a documentary and a play about abortion. I’d love your comments, ideas and suggestions. I’ve told you my story, now can you tell me yours? Let’s get this conversation started.
Photo of Sebastiana Correa courtesy of Tara Todras-Whitehill.
Carol, So often when we hear someone mention “reproductive rights,” or “abortion rights,” or “choice,” we think of it as an issue, when in fact each woman’s story is a moving human experience, one filled with overwhelming details and agonizing thoughts, and pain and suffering. Thank you for sharing your experience. It brought me into a very personal part of your life. It’s amazing how many similar stories make up the lives of our family members, friends and neighbors, as well as strangers that we pass on the street every day. Let me now share part of my life. In 1969, I got pregnant at the age of 19. My boyfriend asked me to marry him. On the night of his bachelor party, I had a miscarriage in the middle of the night in my parents’ home where I was living. The next morning, I called my doctor and went to his office. He confirmed the miscarriage, and I somehow just went on with my life, after a very short convalescence. In my young and uncomplicated mind, I was grateful for a resolution that mother nature essentially made on my behalf. But the thoughts I had up until that point were not those of looking forward to motherhood. I knew I wasn’t ready, but I just resolved to let time go by, figuring I would have a son or daughter to raise and that would be that. My pregnancy developed on its own terms, and, in my mind, the matter was miraculously resolved for me. If things were different, my consideration of having an abortion may have been realized. That is, if the procedure was safe and was not illegal, as you mentioned in your experience. But, every time I thought of it, I was so frightened that I immediately moved it right out of my mind. When making these emotionally complex decisions about reproduction, women should never be faced with thoughts of medical danger or possibly having to break the law. My boyfriend and I got married, and then we divorced after about 3 years. I never remarried and never had children. Although I did not have to make the tough decision others had to make, I did wrestle with it for a period of time, and the mental and emotional anguish that became part of my life during that time is as clear to me today as it was in 1969. – - Nancy Gerlach, Berkley, MI
What a great introduction to your new blog, Carol. I’ve heard so many of these stories and have been influenced by so many wonderful women who paved the way for better (not yet perfect) reproductive rights. As a mother now, your post is a perfect reminder of how hard we still need to fight. Great work!
When I was 17, I stayed the weekend with my 5-month pregnant sister and her boyfriend. I slept on the couch but awoke in the middle of the night to her boyfriend raping me, his hand over my mouth. I never told anyone, even after I found out I was pregnant. My sister had always been jealous of me, and quite a few of her boyfriends had hit on me, but I’d never been interested in her guys. At that point, she was 20, and we were starting to be friends, so I was afraid I’d lose her forever if I told her what had happened. I finally told my mom I was pregnant, but refused to name the father or explain what had happened. At my insistence, she took me to get an abortion. We had to drive over an hour to the next state for a clinic. There were protesters all around, shouting at us, showing their horrible pictures. My mom and stepdad nursed me through the recovery. Two months after I started my senior year of high school, my sister had her daughter. She and the dad split up a couple years later, after she learned of his cheating with other women. That baby is now 20, with her own almost 2 year old daughter.
I think about 15 years went by before my mom told me she’d had an abortion in 1979, just after my parents’ divorce. This is not something she’s ever told my sister. I’ve never told anyone about the rape.
I still carry the scars from the betrayal of that rape. But I’ve never once regretted getting that abortion. I was determined that I would meet a man, get married, and then have kids. And that’s just what I did. We’ve been together 13 years, married for 9 years, and our kids are 7 and 4.
Carol:
Thanks so much for opening up this brave dialogue involving real life decisions about abortion made by responsible and thoughtful women. This sort of realism is exactly what is needed to balance the literally disembodied abstractions and over-simplifications put forward by the anti-choice police.
Very best wishes.
Margot
Carol, this is such a moving way to start your blogging adventure! Too often, shame and fear of judgment keeps women from being honest with themselves and with each other about abortion. I recently wrote a blog post about a woman who documented her abortion on Twitter, after taking medication to terminate her pregnancy. You can imagine the reaction: threats, shaming, condemnation. But quite a few women stood up for her, too. I don’t think she meant to be sensational as much as she wanted to take abortion out from the shadows, to show women it’s a safe choice. For her, it was a much safer choice than carrying her pregnancy through.
Thank you for sharing your story and for blogging on this subject. I hope it opens more honest conversations.
Re: Nancy – sometimes mother nature steps in at just the right time. Your point about how women should never be faced with thoughts of medical danger or possibly having to break the law is right on. Thanks for sharing your story.
Re: Diane – the maturity with which you handled your situation was/is remarkable. Thank you so much for sharing your experience.
I was lucky enough to have two safe, legal abortions after the age of 35 when Roe v. Wade had been passed. My friends at UC Berkeley were not as lucky 15 years prior to taht; almost all of them had to fly to Tijuana under the cover of night with their boyfriends anteing up $500; they came back intact; one of them was given her fetus in a jar as a “momento.”
One of my friends was not quite so lucky; her mother made an appointment for her to have an abortion with their local gynecologist; he botched it, cut a vein and she had no clue as to what was wrong; she just said she felt weak. The next day she hemorrhaged; luckily they were able to save her in an ICU (Intensive Care Unit) at a hospital. She went on to get her doctorate in Psychology and have two lovely children with her husband.
Carol – Your story is moving and powerful! Thank you so much for sharing it. I look forward to following your blog in the months to come. You are a strong, articulate, and reasoned voice for choice.
Carol, I applaud what you’re doing on this blog, and I agree that it’s time for the taboo surrounding abortion to end. So, here goes..
I’ve had two safe abortions a few years ago, at the age of 21 and 22. Both times, the ‘father’ was my still current boyfriend. We were reckless the first time. The second time, we were extremely tight on money. One of the first things that got sacrificed by our budget cut was the contraceptive pill (we live in a developing country where it is not cheap, nor reimbursed). Now when I think back, I realize it was a very bad decision. I’ve kept the abortions a secret from lots of people, including my parents. They are both pro-choice, we are not a religious family. But I still feel too much guilt and shame. For me, the worst part, in both cases, was the ultrasound: I had not imagined that I would be able to see it, small seed, in my uterus. I saw it. I wiped the blue gel from my tummy, a moment I had imagined as so joyous. The best part was having a loving boyfriend with me. But in the waiting rooms of the clinics, out of 3-4 girls waiting, I was the only one with a man holding my hand. He and I just love children, so talking about the abortions still makes our hearts heavy today, and imagining what could have been, well, is just a masochistic trip down doubt lane.
Carol:
My story has elements of yours; I found a kind doctor out of state; went by myself after much thought, debate, asking for guidance — but of course, I couldn’t confide in my Mother! I was a “good” gir (at 21 yet!), so having that discussion was out of the question. It always has struck me that many who would not choose abortion don’t understand the agony involved in the decision. thank you for your writing and having a place to share thoughts. NOW continues to provide the safe space for me and the sisterhood that frames my life.
This is such a thoughtful and honest piece which I am confident will help to keep open and fire the debate. It is essential that we do not return to the dark ages and move forward on behalf of all women. Each and every one of us has the right to make decisions about our own bodies and our own futures in this respect. Go Carol…you are a champion for all those without a voice.
Carol,
Although I have known you for 30 yrs (is that possible?!) it was both compelling & gut wrenching to read your account of what happened to you all of those years ago. What is evident is how raw it still feels for you and so many other women who faced a crisis that would change their lives—regardless of their decision.
With this blog, you give other women the courage to come forward and tell their stories. You introduce us to women — the “faces” of women – who have confronted unintended pregnacies and the difficult decisions they made.
Congratulations to you and kudos to MS for this new and important blog!
Thank you all so much. There are over 1 million abortions performed in the US every year, 46 million worldwide. We need to keep reminding people that we are real women who have a “right to life.”
Carol -thank you SO MUCH! Can you blog some more some day about the young women forced to “go away” and give birth and then relinquish their babies? What about their loss of rights as women as well? And look at the doubel standard as to how society viewed them! Women must today acknowledge what that life must have been like pre-Roe v. Wade and show support for those women as sisters in the struggle. They too bore a dofficult burden!
Thank you all for sharing. Nobody talks about this. I think there are a lot of men and women who appreciate getting hear others stories and maybe having the opportunity to tell their own. I appreciate you all.
Re: Sally, I’d love to do more on the subject. If you and/or other readers know women who made that difficult choice, I’d love to hear from them.
Hi Carol,
I know this blog was from awhile ago so I didn't know if this was still something that you were interested in doing…I have thought of doing a book with women's different abortion experiences but in reality, I probably wouldn't get around to it. I had a very bad pre-Roe abortion experience that I think demonstrates some of horrors/dangers of making abortion illegal – mine weren't exactly the typical dangers women faced but it really did leave me with a lifetime of trauma. I don't think it would have happened at all that way had abortion been legal at that time.
You can e-mail me if this is something you still write about.
Thanks.
Thanks for guiding the continuing conversation, Carol. I was fortunate to have a legal abortion at age 24, knowing that this tiny part of me would enter an unsavory, unnurturing situation. Tho it’s rarely a slam dunk choice, I’ve had no regrets— what a blessing it is to have it. Let’s help younger women the world over have that choice as well.
Why doesn’t anyone tell of the life-long torment of women who wake up every day knowing that they paid a doctor to kill their child? Why do people tell us the lie that being a mother destroys dreams and futures? Why do we believe it? Statistics say that the best way to doom yourself to a life of poverty is not to drop of out school, as I would have guessed, but it is to have children out of wedlock. But the answer is not to kill the child. The answer is to not make babies until you are in the right place to be a parent. If you screw up, you kill the kid? Now that’s intolerance.
Janet and others -
I am a parent of 2 teenagers. Being a good parent is very difficult even when you are married, white, college graduates, and wealthy. It’s that much harder when the situation is not in your favor. Add to this the real risk of a handicapped or difficult child and parenting is not trivial. Being a mother has stopped me from getting my MBA and working full-time because my oldest is on the autism spectrum and both have allergic anaphylaxis. I literally can’t work because when they are crisis I need to show up immediately and stay 24X7. You try that…
By the way, when I got pregnant the third time with twins, my husband and I decided to abort because we could not have maintained our level of care for the existing children if our family grew. So, yes, I killed two potential children (the size of a grain of rice) for the sake of my new living children and my marriage. It was a selfless thing to do, so please don’t think abortions are only for unwed young people.
Janet, please keep reading these blogs. No one makes these decisions lightly, but the majority of us are have no regrets, even years later.
Thank you for opening up this topic. I also had a safe legal abortion at the age of 25. I was already a single mom of one daughter and my mom – my support system – just died of cancer. I made the choice for the child I was already raising and so that I could finish college. I had to walk through a crowd of protesters and a woman grabbed my arm, but I held my head up and pushed my way into the door. I was the last patient that day and my sister and I gave the doctor a ride back to his hotel. I don’t remember his name, if I even knew it in the first place, but I am so grateful that he was willing to risk his safety so that I could have a second chance.
Five years later I met my husband. My daughter is now 23, graduating from college, and I have another beautiful daughter. I know I made the right choice.
Re: Janet – If your comments reflect your own experience, I am truly sorry. You should get professional help to determine why you feel you made the wrong decision and find a way to live with your decision. However, from your tone and language, I suspect you are anti-choice and are attempting to give credence to the so-called “Post-Abortion Stress Syndrome” that some anti-choice groups have claimed is similar to post-traumatic stress disorder. This is not an actual psychological condition and is not recognized by the American Psychological Association. Your comments serve as a reminder of the anti-woman attitudes of an anti-choice movement that insists on elevating fetal life over a woman’s life. It is my goal to remind everyone that at the center of every story is a woman who is faced with a difficult choice – a woman who takes motherhood seriously enough to determine when and if she can and should give birth.
I am pro-choice and so I disagree with Janet’s thoughts. However, the pro-choice movement cannot always sugarcoat things. Yes, there is no official “Post Abortion Syndrome,” but there are women who do come to regret their abortions. Every woman does not feel “relief” as the majority of them do. And, more likely than not, it’s because they didn’t get adequate counseling at the clinic. There are disreputable clinics out there that shrug off the counseling, that just want to get women in and out. That is a disservice to women.
Re: Ron – My point was that the anti-choice movement has attempted to create a syndrome that does not exist, just as they’ve tried to fabricate a connection between abortion and breast cancer. Of course some women regret having abortions, just as some women regret giving birth. These are difficult decisions for many women and they don’t need us sitting in judgment.
Thanks for sharing your story Carol. Glad you lived to tell the tale and have shaped your life in the direction you wanted to go. Appreciate your heartfelt and wise perspective and views, too.
Good luck with your documentary and play about abortion. Personally, for quite some time, I’ve thought it would be great to see a compilation of many women’s (and woman-child’s) abortion stories in a book, play, or blog. With this sharing to serve as a catalyst for a big, strong, reawakened free woman/free choice movement that cannot to be dismissed or denied. (The million womb march, anyone?)
I am a 42 year old single mother with two teenage girls. I cannot take the pill (it makes me depressed/suicidal), the IUD was painful, so my long term boyfriend and I use condoms. But, they aren’t perfect.
In the last three years, I’ve had two non-surgical abortions. Both were the correct decision for me and my family. However, they were not without emotional pain. I’m simply not sure that my heart has ever been broken in quite that way before — no matter what my brain tells me about those early weeks and non-viability, there will always be a place deep inside my heart that loved and knew those little ones/potential little ones. In the months after both procedures, I was devastated. I wanted and needed a support group, or just someone to listen, to let me cry and scream. I needed women, because this is a pain that only women truly know. I needed stories that were simply stories, not stories with political agendas.
Women don’t talk about this. We need to. Because it isn’t, for many of us, simple or easy. I have no regrets, but there is still this ache in my heart that never quite goes away.