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Where do I begin. I’ve had three.

My first I was sixteen and dating an awful guy. My parents hated him. I was terrified to tell them, and kept it from them as long as I could.

My friend’s mom found out and told my parents, and I’ll never forget my mom being so supportive.

I was unsure how I felt at the time. “But I love him!” I tried to convince myself.

Then my mom shared her abortion story with me.

We drove out of state because my mom wanted me to have access to a better clinic than the local one. We got a hotel, and went out for pizza. It was a strange but necessary bonding experience.

The next morning, I found out I was 15 weeks along. I had to undergo the two-day surgical procedure.

I remember it being painful on day one, and hardly remember the actual procedure.

We drove home and all was well. Until my boobs become so engulfed with milk I was leaking out of my bra. My body was confused. Had it given birth? I felt guilty that I was producing milk, bodies are weird. I had to wear menstrual pads in my bra, but after a few weeks, it subsided.

I still to this day thank my mom. She saved me. That child would be 15 now. A high schooler. It’s wild to think about. Oh and the father? He’s dead now.

My second one was right when I found out my Dad’s cancer was terminal.

My sister had just announced her first pregnancy with her husband—they were elated. But there was a massive elephant in the room. She wouldn’t have a grandpa by the time she was born.

Amidst all this, there I was, pregnant, and no one knew. Not only did I not want to be a mother, how the fuck could this happen NOW? Worst timing ever. I drove myself to that same clinic, a state away, and had my second abortion. This time only 8 weeks along.

My third was earlier this year. My partner and I made the difficult decision to terminate after going back and forth for a few weeks.

I didn’t even go to the doctor. I got the pills from a girl on Reddit who received her pills too late. I was in a red state, and so was she. The kicker? We lived in the same city. What are the odds!?

My partner met her and brought the pills back to me. I was anxious. I had heard the pills can be tough but I couldn’t step into that clinic again.

I did it. It sucked. But I did it. And the sense of relief washed over me almost immediately.

We are still together, but guess what? I’m two weeks late. And I’ve already ordered a second dose of pills just in case. Thank god for the organizations who mail them. What a god send.

This story also appears on our page titled Our Stories.

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