This isn’t hard for me to write, this isn’t hard for me to talk about. What’s hard to hear is that there are people in the world who think women shouldn’t have safe and legal access to abortions.
When I was 17, nearly 18 I found out extremely late (almost too late) that I was pregnant. I wasn’t happy, emotionally stable, financially stable or prepared in any way to bring another life into the world.
The thought of it being too late to have an abortion made me want to die. The only feeling I had was irresponsibility. I wasn’t scared or sad or angry, I just couldn’t believe it had happened to me. You can do everything in your power to have safe sex and still get caught in a situation you don’t want to be in.
I never think about how different my life would be if I had become a mother at 18 because I know for a fact it would have ruined my life. I wouldn’t have gone to uni, I wouldn’t have met my boyfriend, I wouldn’t have started blogging. It would have prevented all of these things that I love so much and I’d have hated it for taking my life off track.
If I had been denied an abortion I know for a fact I’d have done everything in my power to get one. Legally or illegally, safely or dangerously. I’d have found a way.
Some people have issues with surgical abortions but are fine with non-surgical ones, I’m here to say that a surgical abortion saved my life. Not because carrying a life would’ve killed me for medical reasons, because I didn’t see my own life worth living if I had to give birth and put another baby into the care system.
I had to have meetings with male doctors so they could assess my ability to choose what to do with my own body and now a bunch of men are deciding whether an entire country of women are allowed to choose what they can do with their bodies. I honestly cannot comprehend how anybody sees that as permissible.
I haven’t said everything I wanted to say, I haven’t proof read this, I wanted to include some shocking facts and statistics but I’m here to explain a real situation that a real person went through. Something personal instead of the impersonal inundation of graphs that don’t have names or faces.
Even if this post makes the tiniest ripple in the biggest ocean, I’m happy to have shared my experience.