This story is part of a larger story published at Rewire.
If I made a list of things in my life that were beautiful—things that were truly and utterly full of gorgeous light and warmth and love—it would include my bisabuela’s home-cooking, the West Virginia valleys and mountains I call home, and both of my abortions.
My first abortion was a medication abortion. I was nervous about the process, but the clinic staff were kind and supportive and let me take my time. I took some pills at the clinic, and brought more pills home. I cuddled up with blankets and a cat on the couch, and watched music documentaries while waiting for the second round of pills to work. They did! I passed a small amount of blood and tissue into the toilet. I felt so relieved. It was beautiful.
My second abortion was a procedural abortion. I remember drifting off to sleep in the feet-holders, and then waking up once it was over. I didn’t feel any of it. The clinic staff gave me soda to drink and let me rest for a bit. I remember walking out of the clinic and into the sunshine, feeling elated and relieved once more. I felt overwhelmingly free. It was beautiful.
My abortions brought me joy and relief and sanity when I needed it most. They allowed me to be myself and direct what happens within my own body and life. I think back on my abortions and related experiences with deep fondness and appreciation. My abortions were beautiful. Abortion is beautiful.
~ Caitlin Lejarzar-Gaffin, 31, West Virginia
