This story is published at Planned Parenthood Hudson Peconic.

Elisabeth- My Small Act of Courage

My name is Elisabeth and I am here to share that I… had an abortion! In fact, I’ve had two. It wasn’t until the threat of Roe v Wade being overturned that I finally found the courage to tell anyone outside of a circle of very close friends. Like you, I am horrified, outraged and absolutely devastated. I’m writing this in the hope of finding solidarity and support in these dark hours.

We know we have A LOT of work ahead of us. I’d like to share my story because I think this includes removing the stigma that surrounds abortion and the shame that often envelops our experiences. Shame guts us and silences us. It makes us feel less than the incredibly strong, courageous people that we are.

A friend recently reminded me that shame dies in the light. So many of us have either had or know someone who has had an abortion and yet…we still struggle and keep our stories in the dark. Sharing this isn’t easy for me either, but I hope my story might help someone else cast off that suffocating shame or stand taller, speak up and speak out.

In the spring of my senior year of high school, as an honors student, my main concern was deciding on college acceptances. Despite “being careful”, meaning that I was on the Pill, I learned I was pregnant and was in no way ready- or ever wanted- to start a family.

I couldn’t tell my strict parents- they’d disown me. I had to find a way to get out of school, save up money, figure out a ride and find support. I was absolutely terrified…of the procedure, of anyone finding out. And confusingly, a little heartbroken. I knew then that I did not want a child, but I felt sort of… conflicted.

Growing up, abortion was only ever discussed by my mom in very hushed tones- as though just speaking about it was shameful in itself. Once, when I was far too young, she shared the story of my aunt who sought an illegal abortion as teenager before Roe. The procedure was incomplete, and the outcome was both terrifying and humiliating. Thankfully, she survived but this “scandal” followed her for years.

Mom also once shared her own story of needing an abortion when she got pregnant just a few months after giving birth to my brother. The exhausting pregnancy, traumatic surgical delivery and months-long recovery time were a large part of her (and my father’s) decision making process. Her story of a health-saving procedure was straightforward, quiet and free of scandal. Unfortunately, the hushed tones used when sharing both stories were enough to shame me into silence. Coupled with my parents’ ridiculously high expectations of me, my own teen pregnancy would surely bring dishonor upon us all.

The conflict for me also lay in that small part of me that wondered “what if”? After all, I was in love with my boyfriend and if now wasn’t the right time, maybe it could be later? When I took as much time as I could to consider all these things, I still came out with what I knew was the right answer for me. I’ll always be grateful to the clinic staff for their warmth, kindness and understanding in what was then the most difficult thing I had ever faced.

That decision allowed me the freedom to choose to go to college, work, travel and do all the stupid things that you do in your 20s — including getting married, but only when I was ready and wanted to.

Once the excitement and distraction of my wedding was behind me, I realized I finally had the courage to do what I’d always wanted to: apply to medical school. That meant going back to school and studying hard, volunteering and shadowing doctors- all while holding down a full-time job. Because of my age and the outrageous cost of applying, I knew I had only one shot at this. After more than a decade of working in restaurants, and at the age of 34, I left my beloved NY behind for Miami to finally start studying medicine.

Unfortunately, that first year turned into a nightmare for many reasons. Within the first few months, my husband and I separated and to my horror, I discovered that once again, I was pregnant. This decision wasn’t that much easier than my first because I still had a lot of things to consider. This time, I was in one of the most vulnerable positions of my life and couldn’t risk my studies and a career in medicine. I also didn’t want to be tied forever in co-parenting with someone that I didn’t want to be with.

However, I also knew this was my last chance to have a child before turning 35- the cut-off before pregnancy is considered “geriatric” (a terrible label but not mine). The reality was that my window of fertility was shrinking, and I had some doubts about possibly missing out on something I might later regret. After much reflection, I knew what I needed. Again, I was so grateful to be able to choose and forever grateful to that Planned Parenthood in Miami that took such good care of me.

Though nearly two decades apart, and as a completely different woman, there’s a common thread in my experiences. I was about to start a great new chapter in my life and could not and did not want to have a child. When I needed it, the option to choose was there.

In both experiences, I know I was so fortunate to have the resources, support and relatively easy access to receive the critical reproductive health care I needed, when I needed it. My reasons or why may not be your why. The WHY doesn’t matter- we all have to do what is best for ourselves. What does matter is that women and people of other genders who are able to get pregnant have the ability to make decisions about their own bodies, when, where and how they need to.

In 1973, Supreme Court Justice Harry Blackmun wrote the majority opinion in Roe v Wade. Leading up to that, he wrote a list of 27 human needs which he kept in his office to refer to. These needs included truth, clarity, courage and…compassion.

Now, more than ever, we need courage and compassion. Courage to share our stories- if we can- and work to dispel stigma and shame so we can finally normalize abortion. Courage to stand up and fight for what is right, for essential health care. And both courage and compassion to help anyone who is able to get pregnant and in need, both here and most definitely, in other states. We are lucky that we live in a state that respects and protects our right to choose. It’s our responsibility to help everyone who now faces what was once an unimaginable nightmare.

Together, we can do so much… with courage and compassion.

Elisabeth (she/her)

PPHP Patient Advocate