I had an abortion - and it saved my life

Photo by Gayatri Malhotra on Unsplash

It’s the morning after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade.

Unfortunately, there’s no pill we can swallow to make this bad decision go away.

Waking up at my home in Austria, on a rainy Saturday, laying next to my partner in bed, I grab my phone and stare in bewilderment at the social media feed that’s informing me of yesterday’s events.

I get up and go to the bathroom.

Sitting on the toilet, peeing, I peer down at my woman’s body. This body, that I have no choice but to be in, a palace and a prison. My head hangs, throat tightens, tears fall from my eyes and a desperate sob escapes my mouth.

When I allow myself to imagine the consequences of this grave ruling for millions of American women and families, I want to collapse into a puddle on the floor.

Most Americans are already struggling - to afford rent, food, basic life necessities, health care. A stunning 70% of American’s don’t even have $1000 in savings; 45% have nothing saved at all. And yet they will be expected to bring another life into this world and support that life for 18+ years? Without much if any help from their government or employer for that matter?

This is the devastating future I saved myself from when I was pregnant at 19.

Thanks to Roe v. Wade and the good abortion providers of central Ohio, I was able to get access to a safe, medical abortion right in my hometown - and by having one, receive a second chance at life.

I was one of the privileged ones in America - I lived in a safe community, a sort of ‘golden ghetto’ as we called it - a neighborhood of modest homes in a suburb comprised of million dollar houses, SUVs, soccer moms, rich working dads, 401k plans, disposable income, expensive after school sports. I went to school in one of the highest rated school districts in the US. In my own family, we were lucky enough to have a parent who earned over $100,000 a year - a salary just big enough to give three children a decent, middle-class-ish kinda life.

We didn’t have a lot, but still I knew we were among a privileged few. I had been in towns not far away from Columbus, where families could barely afford to put food on the table or pay the high premiums to provide care for their sick or elderly; where education was questionable and options for a young woman after high school included little more than marriage and family.

I was grateful to be raised in the big city, where I received a liberal education, the kind that reaffirmed my natural right as a free being in the world, and instilled in me an empathy and understanding that others have the same. This liberal city, a holy mecca for LGBTQ folks who flock from the surrounding countryside to find new life; a place where my dad found acceptance and freedom as a gay man after years of suffering in closeted shame in rural small town America.

All this feels like it plays a role in what shaped me, my decisions and life’s path.

So at 19, I found myself, a recent high school graduate and cashier at Whole Foods, pregnant and terrified.

Based on my own personal experience, I don’t think that getting an abortion is ever an easy decision or process for any woman.

Our biology hard-wires us to love and nurture that tiny being growing inside us - from the moment I conceived (and probably before) maternal instincts kicked in. It pained me, knowing I would terminate the pregnancy. But not ending the pregnancy was never an option. I was 100% clear on that, pregnancy hormones aside.

As difficult as it was to go through that, I want to make one thing clear - it wasn’t having an abortion that terrified me. Sure, that was a little scary, I didn’t know what to expect and it was a new experience. But ultimately one that would bring me immense relief and the gift of choosing my future.

What terrified me most was being pregnant, and the idea that I may need to go through with a pregnancy I neither wanted, nor planned for, nor was ready for.

Because even though I was one of the privileged ones, I was in no way prepared to bring a child into this world. Even though I had a loving boyfriend, and parents. At 19, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life but was determined to give myself the possibility to figure that out. At 19, I was emotionally immature, dealing with mental illness and instability in my loved ones, financially completely unprepared to even take care of myself, let alone a baby. I didn’t have parents who could support me and a child - I would have had to figure it out alone. And I was not prepared to do that with a baby. At the time, my boyfriend got fired from his restaurant job for refusing to shave his beard and we both used recreational drugs sometimes - we were in no place to become responsible parents.

13 years later, I am only just now beginning to imagine that I might someday soon be ready to become a mother. Only now, at nearly 32, am I able to contemplate that I might actually be ready to have kids some day.

Before now, every other time I had a chance of becoming pregnant - it terrified me. And abortion was the only imaginable possibility - even when it saddened me.

Today I read a statement from the pro-life governor of Louisiana, in which he writes:

“Being pro-life means more than just being against abortion. It means providing the necessary resources and implementing policies that provide real options to the children, women, and families we are blessed to serve.”

While that’s a nice thought - it’s not the reality of today’s America. Today in America, 16% of all children nationwide live in poverty.

Most Americans can’t even afford the average cost of giving birth - $17,000 let alone all the expenses that come with raising children after childbirth.

The US is one of the world’s richest countries - and yet one of few that offer no paid family leave to new parents.

Not to mention, the average American is $90,000 in debt.

If you haven’t noticed - there is a crisis going on in a country that was once the envy of all the world. A humanitarian crisis - where our basic rights and liberties are slowing being degraded.

I’m mad and sad about it, and I don’t know what to do. So I’m sitting here with a furrowed brow, typing away on my laptop. Safe, an American living abroad.

I know that if I get pregnant tomorrow and don’t feel prepared to have that baby - I can make an appointment at the doctor down the street and receive a safe medical abortion. I made that decision 13 years ago and I would make it again today, if I thought it was necessary.

That’s the amazing thing about women - we are full-fledged human beings, capable of making our own decisions and leading our lives independently. A fact that infuriates many a conservative old white man, I’m sure.

I have never regretting my abortion - I only live in peace with that decision until today. Because of my choice, I was able to create the life I wanted for myself and give myself the best possible opportunities - studying at university, moving to Europe, getting a bachelor’s degree in Germany, moving to Austria, being close to my family here and ultimately, getting the chance to create a family of my own someday, should I want that.

And maybe in the next few years, it will happen. Stefan and I are talking about having a family together. But before creating a family, I will have done nearly everything I dreamed of doing in my life - study, travel the world, pursue my hobbies, passions and dreams, date around and learn about love, work on healing the wounds of my childhood and ancestral trauma, find meaningful work, create a home, and fall in love and create a healthy relationship with the man who I chose to be my lifelong partner.

Now, I’m working on financial readiness, but I know that I am much more prepared to have a child today than I was 13 years ago. And I know that if I do get pregnant and want to have a family, the Austrian government will be there to support me when I do. Here I am blessed to be living in an economy of care that allows me to enjoy a high quality of life, including disposable income, health insurance and holidays. Without the paternalism that dictates the lives of United States citizens and residents, I am a free person.

And you know what I think is one of the biggest miracles of all time? Two people coming together and consciously deciding to create another life together. What could be a greater act of love, faith, trust, commitment, hope and optimism?

If I make that decision with Stefan soon, it will be a blessing and a miracle. No matter what, it will be my decision.

This is my body, not the property of a man, or the state.

This is my flesh, God that resides in me, I create life itself.

I wish this autonomy to every woman in America right now, like I wished it for myself when I was a young woman.

Teary eyes, signing off.

Chelsea