Last Friday, June 24th, was a sad day for women in America as the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, making it illegal for women to get an abortion. For me personally, hearing the news was a slap in the face. It was disappointing, gut-wrenching, and disheartening. What women and feminist men who support women’s rights worked so hard for for decades was taken away just like that in a blink of an eye. Instead of moving forward, we’re moving backwards.
I, myself, didn’t have to go through an abortion process. But I did have life situations at hand where I did have to think over all of my options if I were to be pregnant during times in my life where I truly wasn’t ready to face reality. The first time was when I was 18 after a pregnancy scare. The second was when my husband and I just started dating. And the third time was just around the time my husband and I found out we were expecting following our failed embryo transfer.
The first time I had sex was when I was 18 years old. It was with someone I thought was a friend. It happened in my own house and in my own room while my parents and other family members were in the living room. It wasn’t anything romantic at all. It wasn’t a teen rom-com situation where you see two teenagers who were friends first turn into something more. It was an out of body experience. It was painful. It was vicious. It was violent. It was forced. But I went along with it because if I didn’t, there’d be even worse consequences I didn’t want to witness.
I never heard from my ‘friend’ again. Just like any other victim, I called him once a couple of weeks later, but he just brushed me off. He got what he wanted out of me already, so there was no point in speaking to me further unless he wanted to do the exact same thing to me multiple times. At this point in my life, I don’t remember his name, and I’m so thankful for that. They say time heals all wounds, but they couldn’t be more wrong about that. What does heal wounds is life experience. What I didn’t forget about that fateful December 15, 2007 night was the fact that I had a pregnancy scare afterwards. I wasn’t getting my period for about two weeks after it was due to arrive. I ddid whatever it took to get it going, and it finally did. It was a complete sigh of relief for me, because the two weeks I waited were absolutely brutal. I kept asking myself over and over what I’d do with the baby if I WERE pregnant. I asked myself a lot of questions, but the one question that kept coming up was whether or not I really wanted to have a child with that ‘friend’ of mine.
About 5 or so years later, my husband and I were already a whole year into our relationship. Our relationship became sexual pretty much right away, and we were, particularly my now-husband, always so careful using protection. That one fateful night in 2012, though, that carefulness was unavoidably broken as the condom ripped. we were both freaked out. Neither of us knew what to do if were to become parents. We were young, still in college, and still living with our respective parents. At the end of the day, my husband said that the decision was mine. It was my body, and therefore, it was my choice. That was a tough decision to make, especially for 20-something year old young woman whose only responsibilities were to make to get good grades at school and make my boyfriend happy. What made it easier for me was knowing that I had a supportive partner no matter what I decided. In the end, though, it turned out to be a scare.
Once we got married, my husband began discussing the idea of starting our own family. The talk turned into action when we started actively trying for a baby a year into our marriage. But we were those unlucky couples that struggled with infertility. After years of trying and failing at it miserably, my husband and I finally started our IVF process. Everything seemed promising last year, and that included our budget, my health and how IVF affected it, as well as all test results. We were ready to finally be pregnant once we had our embryo transfer. Fate, however, had its own plans. Our embryo transfer didn’t end up with a pregnancy. A few months later, though, my husband and I ended up conceiving naturally.
Of course, we were ecstatic. But then, reality kicked in. When I was 9 weeks pregnant, my fertility doctor asked me if I wanted to get a genetic test. It was something that I was obligated to do, but the option to get it done was on the table. My husband and I both decided to get the genetic test on the fetus done. We didn’t want to keep guessing whether or not we’d have a healthy baby. The discussion of what we’d do next if the test did show high risk of genetic health issues, specifically Down Syndrome. I immediately said I’d have an abortion.
It’s not like I need to explain myself to anyone in my life besides my husband (and, in some cases, my parents). But I personally know what it’s like to grow up with a disability from first hand experience. I wouldn’t want to my child to have experienced even remotely similar experiences as I did, especially considering the fact that, unlike me, the child wouldn’t have two healthy parents to take care of them.
As of now, I consider myself extremely lucky to be living in Canada, a country where I can get a safe abortion if I chose ever chose to for my sake of my health and safety. The Supreme Court overturning Roe v. Wade isn’t going to stop abortions from happening. It’s going to stop safe abortions, where women’s lives wouldn’t be at risk, from happening.
Sign up to our newsletter if you want to see more content from The Graceful Boon! By signing up to our newsletter, you'll get an even more in-depth content from yours truly, Stacie Kiselman, who's our Graceful Boon, that you won't want to miss out on.