Let Me Tell You About MY Abortion

Below is a little missive I ripped out just as soon as I heard about MS. Magazine’s attempts to recruit abortion supporters by asking them to supply their names and their stories.

In a fit, an absolute fit of pique, I typed up my own abortion story. Then I saved it on the hard drive and pondered all week how to deal with my narrative of anger and angst.

I don’t want to put it on my own Blog as frankly-MS. Magazine doesn’t realize this-I am certainly not at all proud of my story.

Yet I wonder if the millions of women (yes, I bet there are that many) who had abortions REALLY told their story, well I wonder if MS. Magazine would be so damn smug with itself on this cause they champion so proudly.

Abortion is NEVER a happy thing, no mind the harpies who brought us this so-called “constitutional right”.

I also pondered the consequences of both identifying myself AND the male player in my sordid tale. I don’t want to get sued.

Still considering and steaming with a message that I desperately want to share, I think of submitting it to one of the online Blogs and punditry sites. But I get concerned. It might not be something they want to post and then I would have gone and identified myself to complete strangers for nothing.

So I decided to post my story in its entirety right here on FreeRepublic. Understand I am scared senseless to do this as I am a right regular poster on this site and really don’t want to be judged harshly.

Below is my own abortion story in response to MS. Magazine’s request. Anyone may link to this post if it is deemed worthy. Someday I might get brave enough to post it on my Blog. If I’m lucky maybe no one will see this story and hey, I still worry about the guy involved in all this. No I didn’t put his name but he’ll know it’s him. Just hope I don’t get sued.

Understand also that this happened to me thirty years ago. Yes indeed, yon ladies and gems, I was a fresh young thing. Roe versus Wade had just been decided. I was bright, happening and intelligent. I was a liberated woman.

Now let MS. Magazine know how a woman feels deep into mid-life when past deeds are re-visited and thought processes change.

Ms. Magazine. Once upon a time I subscribed to Ms. Magazine. Was a subscriber for over ten years. Once upon a time I was a women's libber of the highest order. Once upon a time I had an abortion and now is the time for me to step right up, be a "manly man" about it, and tell my story.

In my pause I ponder publicly identifying myself. For as the article in the link indicates, women are very reluctant to admit beyond girlfriend confidences that they have had an abortion. Although Ms. Magazine and the feminists behind it truly want women to be proud of that which they have managed to gain for the females of this nation: that of abortion on demand. Once upon a time I thought this was a very neat thing. It was 1976, a mere five years after the Supreme Court invented the new abortion right that they somehow saw in our constitution. I was a fresh 25 years of age, divorced and heartbroken after my childhood sweetheart and husband left me. I had a very good job, my own home, was three years into college, night school and it was tough, and not at all unattractive in that manner of 25 year old females. Hey, I was happening, hip, cool and all that the feminists should have adored.

Next I must ponder, seriously, telling my story in any public fashion for fear of identifying the male involved in this abortion. Not that I know if he can do anything about it, like sue me or anything. And not that I've laid eyeballs on him for almost 30 years, but if he should read the story, he will know it is him. Though I won't give his name, I'm not going to be kind to him at all.

So I will identify myself via a link to my Blog. I will not post this to my Blog but I will show some courage because, well Ms. Magazine wants me to and I can't let down Gloria Steinham, who was part and parcel of my own abortion experience.

His name was Gregory (NOT!) and he came into my life when my life had finally settled down after my sad divorce. I had a house, a result of my divorce settlement. Gregory had a job with a government contractor which paid well. We were both college educated, free, monetarily secure and we talked of a future together. We often talked of our future children, which Gregory would refer to as "little Yegory" in a play on his name. I knew what I wanted: a happy marriage, perhaps two children, my college degree and a good job. Gregory knew what I wanted as I often told him. What I wanted was fairly typical of females my age although it was archaic to admit it in that era of raging feminism.

It's no mind how on earth I got pregnant because birth control pills were widely available. I don't know why I didn't use them but I did use some form of birth control. Which didn't work.

Because I was young and had no children as of yet, I wasn't paying attention to such as cycles. At some point the pregnancy advanced beyond the first trimester before even my naïve self got a clue. We didn't have pregnancy tests that could bought in the grocery thus it was a way bigger deal to check a possible pregnancy test than it is today.

There was little time. On Wednesday I found out I was pregnant and on the following Friday I had an abortion.

Gregory, sweet thing, had arranged the whole thing. As I recall, earlier that week Gregory told me to please don't call him at work with the pregnancy test results and I told him I wouldn't. It would "upset" him. As I recall, when I got the results from the doctor I called Gregory right up and told him because why should only I know? Goes to Gregory's character.

My company-paid health insurance covered the abortion but there was a $200 deductible. Which Gregory paid out his own pocket, driving over fifty miles to the hospital that would be doing the abortion because they wouldn't even schedule a room until the deductible was paid. Goodness Gregory even spent the night at my house the night before the abortion (no, we didn't live together) as he was "concerned" for me.

Come the Friday, Gregory helped me to the car and drove steadily and purposefully to the abortion clinic.

Why did Gregory and I choose to have an abortion? Frankly, I have no idea. I do know that when something so monumental happens and there is only a space of two days to make a decision, common sense and morality sometimes goes out the window. I also know that Gregory suggested the abortion because he wasn't "ready" and as my young self saw it, I didn't want to have a baby with a man of age 35 who wasn't "ready". Had I more time to think about it, had Gregory not jumped through every hoop on the planet to facilitate all this, had the abortion clinic not been in such a hurry for as it was they were pushing the limit with my abortion then well beyond the first trimester, had any or all of these things changed in terms of the timing, I don't think I would have had that abortion.

Which does not matter, frankly, because Gregory and I are both murderers and it isn't easy admitting you're a murderer. To add to the intrigue, Gregory was a dyed-in-the-wool Conservative, was even a member of the John Birch society. He regularly ranted about politics, liberals and the coming domination of the Communists. I was, a sweet, young and dewy-eyed thing, a liberal. This was during the era of Richard Nixon. I brazenly put a bumper sticker on my car that read "Don't Blame Me, I Didn't Vote For Him". Gregory ripped the bumper sticker off of my car, my car! Right in my own driveway in front of my own house!

We fought about politics all the time-I the liberal, he the "manly man" conservative. I urge anyone reading this to visit my Blog as this is not meant as a slam against male conservatives. I am much older now, and much wiser. Gregory was no manly-man and now I truly understand the definition of the term.

After the abortion, which was so painful that I suffered physically for almost a month afterward, Gregory and I continued to see each other but not for long. I threw Gregory over the bow just as soon as I could because, hey, he was a creep and a hypocrite. At some point we've all been there and done that.

I am quite sure that Gregory has never been married because, well that was the whole problem as any discerning reader, especially female readers, could see way up in this missive. To his "credit", I suppose, Gregory did have quite the mental breakdown after that abortion and begged me to forgive him. While I, in the meantime, waited until an appropriate amount of time then I dumped him. He threatened to kill himself. He called my co-workers and begged them to put me on the phone. Finally I had to call his parents and ask them to please go over there and deal with Gregory. I was nice about it and everything but Gregory was out of my life and it was my legal right to decide this.

As for me, I went on to get married and I did have a daughter. A daughter who would not be here if it were not for that abortion. Had I not had that abortion I would have been giving birth to Gregory's baby around the time my daughter was conceived. I've often justified that abortion by rationalizing that one child was lost but another child was born that wouldn't have been.

Hey, Ms. Magazine...that's my abortion story. If you really cared about the females you purportedly represent, you'd have ensured that pregnant women considering an abortion would have a required length of time before actually undergoing the procedure. If you really cared about the females you represent, you would have set term limits and prevented women like me from aborting a child that might well have survived outside the womb. If you really cared about the females you represent, you'd have demanded counseling and care for women like me who have Gregorys behind the scenes and pulling the strings. Gregory likes Ms. Magazine, however.

I changed fate, God's plan, and murdered a baby. While I might be tough on Gregory, I admit my part in the crime. I can't change it and for sure I will pay some eternal price for it after my death. Not to mention the hurt and pain I suffer when I ponder what that little life would have been had it not had two of the most selfish parents on the planet.

Anna, if I cite any of your words of wisdom, my posts will be removed for profanity.

I stand by my assertion that a woman has a right to decide what she does with her body. You don't own a woman's body, Anna, and neither does the state.

I stand by my assertion that a woman has a right to decide what she does with her body. You don't own a woman's body, Anna, and neither does the state.

So a woman's right to decide she does with her body trumps the right of an unborn human to live? That is sick thinking no matter how it is portrayed. You have a right to practice your religion, but if that practise means molesting children, for example.

And the fact is a woman does not have the right to does what she wants with her body, else she would be able to be a prostitute or shoot up her body with illegal drugs. Suicide is illegal in many jurisdictions as well.

As I said to Anna, I am not in a minority which is why abortion is legal in most countries.

Don't blame me. Blame your president.

Thanks (people who know me call me Alex).

So you are generally pro-abort, not just pro-life with exceptions. I wanted you to state that.

It is quite simply not her body. If the "mother" wanted to somehow injure herself while preserving the baby in the womb, well, that would be something to do with her right to her body. Abortion is not about that right.

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