What I’m about to tell you is absolutely none of your business. 

In 1993, at the age of 23, I had an abortion. I was employed, had a beautiful roof over my head, and I was in a stable, loving relationship. I used contraception, but it failed, as it does sometimes. I wanted a baby just about as much as I wanted cancer. Luckily, there was a safe, fool-proof method of curing my unwanted pregnancy. The procedure was quick, painless and free. And it changed my life for the better. Exactly what health care is supposed to do. 

While I received my abortion in the halcyon days of women’s healthcare, I was not unaware of the ongoing fight for the basic human right to receive this medical procedure. Abortion rights had survived their latest trip to the Supreme Court just a year before; a case that shortened the time period between conception and “fetus viability” but which also upheld a woman’s autonomy to make her own choices about her healthcare.

My boyfriend in 1993 was a sweet, caring man who loved Jesus and God and me. When I told him I was pregnant and planned to have an abortion, he first expressed his support for my decision. And then he asked if I would consider having the child and raising it with him. I respected his right to ask. He respected my right to choose.

My boyfriend accompanied me to the clinic on the day of my procedure. He was supportive in every way.  At no point did it even occur to us that his religious beliefs or his desire to raise a child with me might trump my own choices about my personal health care.

Years later, long after we went our separate ways, we would talk about the feelings he was struggling with at that time. His sadness; his sense of commitment to that speck of potential life. I was grateful that he didn’t feel the need to insert his emotions about my health care decisions into the conversation in 1993. To this day, I hold that his behavior and attitude was appropriate in every way. And I assert that this is a testament to the strength of having Roe on the books for two decades at that point. This is the power of precedent. It not only guides decisions in the legal and public sphere but has a profound influence on the peace of our private lives.

But to say that I did not carry a stigma about my abortion would be dishonest. While I was comfortable in the knowledge that having one was my right, I also didn’t talk about it. I held to the belief that it was none of anyone’s business. Which, in theory, is absolutely right and true. Our decisions about our health are private.

Except, of course, when they are not. 

Anti-abortion leaders, lawmakers, and activists (I will call them anti-female, for that is what they are) have kept the issue of basic women’s health care in the public sphere with their unceasing assault on the validity of our autonomy. Meanwhile, I have assuaged my unease about this by voting for only pro-choice candidates and putting my faith in “judicial precedent.” I have, as well, exercised my right to privacy believing that my abortion in 1993 was no one’s business. But I’m beginning to suspect that what that has done, really, is help assert the stigma that abortion is wrong, shameful, selfish and something “we don’t talk about.”

Every day women in this country have abortions because they have been victims of rape or incest, or they have a medical condition that a pregnancy would complicate. Many more women have abortions because they don’t want to endure an unplanned pregnancy, raise a child or bring a child into the world. There are many more reasons a woman may decide to have an abortion, and all of these reasons are truly none of our business.

But if you have had an abortion, for whatever reason, and in the light of recent events, maybe you’ll consider sharing your story with the people in your life (if you haven’t already). Maybe you could tell your story to your sons and daughters, your husbands and wives, your nieces and nephews, your parents, your grandparents, your friends or your students. I believe that this is a way we can make a difference. Let’s talk about it.

This revolutionary act may go a long way toward normalizing abortion as the necessary health care it is. 

— Special to the Press Herald

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