This story appears in the comments section of a New York Times article titled “Let’s Talk About My Abortion and Yours.”
At 29, I began a relationship with a man. Eventually he moved into my condo, then he became abusive. He was like Jekyll & Hyde. He could be very silly, fun, a great cook and even housecleaner, and then would become 'psycho' and paranoid (cocaine problem), accusing me of sleeping with my boss.
If he left me alone in the apartment, he'd take the cordless phone with him to "ensure I couldn't call my 'other boyfriends' ", this in the days before cellphones.
He'd call me constantly at my office job, accusing me of this or that. Would appear unannounced at my office. Etc. I was way in over my head and embarrassed to tell friends/family. I tried to pretend all was ok.
One night he held a knife to my throat because I 'talked to a man' while we were at a party together.
Another time I ended up in emergency room.
When we had sex, he 'didn't allow me' to use diaphragm, spermicide or condoms (nor did I ever like the idea of using The Pill). So I'd 'relent', and we typically had sex using no birth control at all, even though it greatly concerned me.
I ended up getting pregnant twice. All the while I was still with him, I knew I would end it at some point.
What made it hard however was I couldn't just pack up and leave, but rather I had to kick HIM out of MY apartment (which would naturally anger him and potentially make him violent).
But through it all, I had sense to know that having babies with him would forever tie me to him, and that I had to abort. I've NO regrets.