I have had two abortions.
Not one, but two.
And I don't feel guilty about either one. Not at all.
I do feel terrified about telling people. Not people like my Mum - she knew at the time because I trust her because she is awesome. But it is not a fact about me that is common knowledge.
I have never been dishonest about my abortions - I am a terrible liar. It's just that it's not something that comes up in conversation very often. I am nervous about the response I'll get to this post - about the judgment of my peers. But at the same time I'm confident that those who know me best will understand and love me regardless. I am not writing this in an attempt to sway people from their personal beliefs - this is a very personal thing which is why it isn't spoken about openly. I am writing in the hope to educate on how abortion actually works in New Zealand, and why I believe it is important that it is legalised.
This is not comfortable for me to write about, but there have been so many signs this year which made me feel it was time that I did:
Sign 1: When I read that women were actually denied abortions in NZ as in, they still are today.
Sign 2: Finding out about the smear campaign on Jacinda Ardern which said she supported full term pregnancy abortions*.
Sign 3: Shortland Street - Harper - a prominent ER Dr has an abortion which opens up a discourse on it among her peers.
So I want to introduce some perspective to those for whom this issue has never directly arisen. I want to talk about my experience with abortion, and my naivety regarding abortion law. If you are uncomfortable reading my story because of family/proximity/fear of judging me - feel free to read these other real life NZ abortion stories instead.
* * * * * * * * * *
I first found out I was pregnant the week I had moved into my first flat and started University. I fell pregnant to my on again/off again boyfriend of four years (fiance) in between things when I had gone off the pill. We probably had unprotected sex once. I should have used protection. Absolutely. But in the heat of the moment I just didn't think. We'd been in a relationship where we'd not needed to use condoms for years so it wasn't at the forefront of our minds.
When I found out I was floored. I was 18. I had no maternal inclinations nor any desire to have children. I told my flatmates and the Dad straight away and tried to do the right thing. I took the Dad out for a 'talk' about our options, because even though I had already decided an abortion was the best option for me, I wanted to know how he felt. Because it was fair. He desperately wanted the abortion. He had just started a new relationship** and wanted minimal complications.
His mother opened a private letter I had sent him about the abortion (we didn't do the email thing back in the year 2000). She told her son that if we aborted this baby she would move to Australia to be with one of her daughters because there was no reason for her to stay here***. She cried. She told us that this was a baby conceived in love and that it was a sign we should get back together.
We both agreed it wasn't. And she did not move to Australia.
Despite his promises to come to appointments, he was unreliable due to pressure from his new partner. I'm pretty sure one of my wonderful flatmates came to my first scan. I can't remember who came to the second. But he did come for the 'main event'.
Here's what happens in an abortion in NZ:
Step 1: You confirm you are pregnant at the Doctors
Step 2: You say you totally want an abortion and get a referral
Step 3: You have a scan to confirm how pregnant you are.
Step 4: You have two psych consults - one with a Dr and one with a nurse, to be sure you truly want an abortion and are not acting under duress.
Step 5: You wait. You have to fucking wait until the sweet spot between 12 - 13 weeks in which they are happy to perform an abortion because (apparently) it is the best time to do it as the tissue is large enough that it should come away easily. Because it has graduated from embryo to foetus.
Step 6: You go to Grafton Hospital where you pass the same old man protesting abortion every day. They confirm who you are, and that you have a lift home and they give you a pill to help get things started then you wait in a room with other women doing the same thing until it's time.
Step 7: You have the actual abortion
Step 8: You hope that it's worked and that you are not broken.
Step 9: You go for a six week check up with your GP to confirm you are not in fact broken or get fixed up if you are.
Here is what I remember about the actual abortion:
They inject your cervix with a relaxant - this part didn't really hurt. Then they basically scrape out the uterus. I am sure they give you pain relief, but it was probably just codeine as I was not spacey and felt the whole procedure. They offered me gas. I learned at that moment that gas is not for me - it gave me hiccups and made me feel light headed. I rejected the gas. I focused my attention to a butterfly sticker on the ceiling. I think someone - likely a nurse - understood that a focal point was helpful to those of us lying down there.
He (the Dad) did not even text me to check if I was ok after the abortion.
I was in fact not ok after the abortion. I was mentally sound - it was the right decision and I had no regrets****. But I did manage to be one of the lucky 5% who got a pelvic infection post termination. I followed the instructions so caught it as soon as was reasonably possible. The antibiotics I was on gave me rectal bleeding. It wasn't great. But I wasn't pregnant and could keep living my life.
* * * * * * * * *
Would I have had my art featured in Black Magazine had I not had a termination?
The second time I decided to have an abortion was much harder.
It was 6 years later and I was most of the way through my design degree. The circumstances by which I fell pregnant were not dissimilar to the first - on again off again - off pill, stupid idiot mistake. Pregnant. In this instance me and the Dad were back together. And I absolutely loved him to bits.
He thought abortion was the only option. I still was a non-maternal person with no inclination toward babies and my mental health at the time was not so great. He was just starting his career post Uni and also not at all keen on kids. It was a no-brainer.
I didn't want to tell my Mum. I felt so much guilt. My situation was different to the stereotype knocked-up-teen-best-option scenario. I didn't feel she would understand but I told her anyway. And truthfully, she didn't. She was not upset with me, but she did try and manipulate me into wanting to keep the baby.
I know that Mum meant the best. And now I am a Mum I have some understanding of her position. But at the time, it was less than helpful. Both me and the Dad were very certain if we kept the baby his parents would view it as me trapping him. And he did tell them about the pregnancy, so this wasn't supposition. They were not bad people, but our relationship had not been the most stable and they were looking out for their son. I felt keeping this baby would mean the end of our relationship, and this would not be good for our potential offspring. And I didn't want to end the relationship.
The specifics of that termination are much blurrier than the first. I think it was because I was in a safer space, with good support from my (then) partner. It is less memorable, because it was less traumatic.
* * * * * * * * *
Why are these stories important?
Because they are true.
Ria Vandervis who plays Harper - not her fault about the shit storyline.
Watching the Shortland Street plotline annoyed me in that it just showed the fallout - it was ingenuine about the actual process. These days they do conduct non-surgical abortions in early term pregnancies ie: they administer the drug and send people home to miscarry in the comfort of their own home. But given that Harper suffered sepsis following her abortion it's more likely her character was supposed to have had a surgical termination - in which case she would have had to be 12 - 13 weeks pregnant which was possible but unlikely given her pregnancy timeline.
It annoyed me because whilst emotions were the focus, like other TV shows the implication was that abortion is a quick fix. That you can just go 'I'd like one abortion please sir' and bang! Bye bye baby. That's not how it works. The actual procedure is not the hardest thing about having an abortion. It's the waiting to have an abortion. You have to sit in your decision while you carry a potential life inside you.
And I didn't know that some people get rejected from having abortions. Given my two were sorted with little difficulty, and I know others in the same boat as me it never occurred to me that they could say no. Yes, I sat through the psych evaluations - but I just thought it was some weird part of the protocol. I truthfully didn't even realise that abortion was still illegal in New Zealand after having had two abortions.
I cannot imagine my life had someone said 'no' to either of my abortions. I can guess at what I would have done next. I would likely have done what women did - and still do - in countries where abortions are not legal. First, I would have tried to do it myself, then I might seek the help of a friend - possibly one with more medical knowledge than me - possibly just someone handy with a coathanger. This is how desperate I would have felt. I imagine that of the hundreds of women denied abortions last year because they were deemed 'not justified' a large number would have felt exactly how I would. It's just not right.
Why did I not consider adopting out? We have had babies adopted into and out of our family over a few generations. And as a consequence I was told from young that babies would no longer be adopted out of our family. I knew that if I fell pregnant and wanted to opt for adoption, I would have to whāngai the baby to someone in my extended family - or face the disappointment or rejection of my family. I couldn't do that. I couldn't live with having a child from my body raised within reach by someone else. And I couldn't live without my family.
I think my decision to be an egg donor was due in part to my experience with my terminations. It wasn't that I felt guilt over them and needed to redeem myself, it was that (at the time) I desperately did not want to be a parent. I empathised with the position of people who desperately wanted to be parents. Because I understood the desperation. And because I had found myself knocked up accidentally on more than one occasion, I assumed I had the goods to help others. Turned out I did - I'm exceptionally fertile. And while the donation didn't result in a baby, I am still so glad I gave a couple a chance to fulfill their dream.
Me, ready for kids with my kids
Has being a Mum changed how I feel about termination? Kinda. I don't
regret my terminations at all - I wouldn't have the family I have today
had I not had them. I cannot predict the trajectory of my life if I
had, but I think it's unlikely I would have received the education I
have, met the people I have or had the experiences I have if I'd had a
child unsupported at age 18.
Obviously, the not wanting to have kids thing changed over time (short story = Murray wanted kids and I love Murray). At the same time the idea of having a termination now is problematic. My family is definitely complete, but I don't know what I'd do if I fell pregnant. If I could have a medical termination at 6 weeks, I wouldn't even think twice. But having to wait to 12 - 13 weeks whilst growing that life while I live each day with what that little life could become? I'm not so sure.
What I am sure of though, is that abortion should be a legal option for women to decide about for themselves.
* A cousins Facebook friend completely swallowed this fact (church). I was happy to re-educate him on the 'facts' although he still was not happy that Ardern advocated abortion being legal.
** He did actually marry that girl.
*** Even though she still had two daughters, a son and five Grandchildren living in the Auckland area.
**** I never have any regrets. I don't believe regret is a healthy response because it requires dwelling on the past. What I do believe in instead is making mistakes. I think of them as mis-takes - as in you are making a film, and you didn't get the first take right so you have to do over. Sometimes you get it sorted on the second take, and sometimes it takes 42 takes to get the right shot. The main point is that you learn from what happened the first time and move forward.
Not one, but two.
And I don't feel guilty about either one. Not at all.
I do feel terrified about telling people. Not people like my Mum - she knew at the time because I trust her because she is awesome. But it is not a fact about me that is common knowledge.
I have never been dishonest about my abortions - I am a terrible liar. It's just that it's not something that comes up in conversation very often. I am nervous about the response I'll get to this post - about the judgment of my peers. But at the same time I'm confident that those who know me best will understand and love me regardless. I am not writing this in an attempt to sway people from their personal beliefs - this is a very personal thing which is why it isn't spoken about openly. I am writing in the hope to educate on how abortion actually works in New Zealand, and why I believe it is important that it is legalised.
This is not comfortable for me to write about, but there have been so many signs this year which made me feel it was time that I did:
Sign 1: When I read that women were actually denied abortions in NZ as in, they still are today.
Sign 2: Finding out about the smear campaign on Jacinda Ardern which said she supported full term pregnancy abortions*.
Sign 3: Shortland Street - Harper - a prominent ER Dr has an abortion which opens up a discourse on it among her peers.
So I want to introduce some perspective to those for whom this issue has never directly arisen. I want to talk about my experience with abortion, and my naivety regarding abortion law. If you are uncomfortable reading my story because of family/proximity/fear of judging me - feel free to read these other real life NZ abortion stories instead.
* * * * * * * * * *
Me at 18 with my flatmates (not sure if they want to be identified, hence face greyness)
I first found out I was pregnant the week I had moved into my first flat and started University. I fell pregnant to my on again/off again boyfriend of four years (fiance) in between things when I had gone off the pill. We probably had unprotected sex once. I should have used protection. Absolutely. But in the heat of the moment I just didn't think. We'd been in a relationship where we'd not needed to use condoms for years so it wasn't at the forefront of our minds.
When I found out I was floored. I was 18. I had no maternal inclinations nor any desire to have children. I told my flatmates and the Dad straight away and tried to do the right thing. I took the Dad out for a 'talk' about our options, because even though I had already decided an abortion was the best option for me, I wanted to know how he felt. Because it was fair. He desperately wanted the abortion. He had just started a new relationship** and wanted minimal complications.
His mother opened a private letter I had sent him about the abortion (we didn't do the email thing back in the year 2000). She told her son that if we aborted this baby she would move to Australia to be with one of her daughters because there was no reason for her to stay here***. She cried. She told us that this was a baby conceived in love and that it was a sign we should get back together.
We both agreed it wasn't. And she did not move to Australia.
Despite his promises to come to appointments, he was unreliable due to pressure from his new partner. I'm pretty sure one of my wonderful flatmates came to my first scan. I can't remember who came to the second. But he did come for the 'main event'.
This is not the guy. This is some guy from Thames.
Similar to Greenlane man in that he is old and white
and telling women what to do with their bodies.
Step 1: You confirm you are pregnant at the Doctors
Step 2: You say you totally want an abortion and get a referral
Step 3: You have a scan to confirm how pregnant you are.
Step 4: You have two psych consults - one with a Dr and one with a nurse, to be sure you truly want an abortion and are not acting under duress.
Step 5: You wait. You have to fucking wait until the sweet spot between 12 - 13 weeks in which they are happy to perform an abortion because (apparently) it is the best time to do it as the tissue is large enough that it should come away easily. Because it has graduated from embryo to foetus.
Step 6: You go to Grafton Hospital where you pass the same old man protesting abortion every day. They confirm who you are, and that you have a lift home and they give you a pill to help get things started then you wait in a room with other women doing the same thing until it's time.
Step 7: You have the actual abortion
Step 8: You hope that it's worked and that you are not broken.
Step 9: You go for a six week check up with your GP to confirm you are not in fact broken or get fixed up if you are.
Here is what I remember about the actual abortion:
They inject your cervix with a relaxant - this part didn't really hurt. Then they basically scrape out the uterus. I am sure they give you pain relief, but it was probably just codeine as I was not spacey and felt the whole procedure. They offered me gas. I learned at that moment that gas is not for me - it gave me hiccups and made me feel light headed. I rejected the gas. I focused my attention to a butterfly sticker on the ceiling. I think someone - likely a nurse - understood that a focal point was helpful to those of us lying down there.
He (the Dad) did not even text me to check if I was ok after the abortion.
I was in fact not ok after the abortion. I was mentally sound - it was the right decision and I had no regrets****. But I did manage to be one of the lucky 5% who got a pelvic infection post termination. I followed the instructions so caught it as soon as was reasonably possible. The antibiotics I was on gave me rectal bleeding. It wasn't great. But I wasn't pregnant and could keep living my life.
* * * * * * * * *
Would I have had my art featured in Black Magazine had I not had a termination?
It was 6 years later and I was most of the way through my design degree. The circumstances by which I fell pregnant were not dissimilar to the first - on again off again - off pill, stupid idiot mistake. Pregnant. In this instance me and the Dad were back together. And I absolutely loved him to bits.
He thought abortion was the only option. I still was a non-maternal person with no inclination toward babies and my mental health at the time was not so great. He was just starting his career post Uni and also not at all keen on kids. It was a no-brainer.
I didn't want to tell my Mum. I felt so much guilt. My situation was different to the stereotype knocked-up-teen-best-option scenario. I didn't feel she would understand but I told her anyway. And truthfully, she didn't. She was not upset with me, but she did try and manipulate me into wanting to keep the baby.
I know that Mum meant the best. And now I am a Mum I have some understanding of her position. But at the time, it was less than helpful. Both me and the Dad were very certain if we kept the baby his parents would view it as me trapping him. And he did tell them about the pregnancy, so this wasn't supposition. They were not bad people, but our relationship had not been the most stable and they were looking out for their son. I felt keeping this baby would mean the end of our relationship, and this would not be good for our potential offspring. And I didn't want to end the relationship.
The specifics of that termination are much blurrier than the first. I think it was because I was in a safer space, with good support from my (then) partner. It is less memorable, because it was less traumatic.
* * * * * * * * *
Why are these stories important?
Because they are true.
Ria Vandervis who plays Harper - not her fault about the shit storyline.
It annoyed me because whilst emotions were the focus, like other TV shows the implication was that abortion is a quick fix. That you can just go 'I'd like one abortion please sir' and bang! Bye bye baby. That's not how it works. The actual procedure is not the hardest thing about having an abortion. It's the waiting to have an abortion. You have to sit in your decision while you carry a potential life inside you.
And I didn't know that some people get rejected from having abortions. Given my two were sorted with little difficulty, and I know others in the same boat as me it never occurred to me that they could say no. Yes, I sat through the psych evaluations - but I just thought it was some weird part of the protocol. I truthfully didn't even realise that abortion was still illegal in New Zealand after having had two abortions.
Coathangers should not be used to perform abortions
I cannot imagine my life had someone said 'no' to either of my abortions. I can guess at what I would have done next. I would likely have done what women did - and still do - in countries where abortions are not legal. First, I would have tried to do it myself, then I might seek the help of a friend - possibly one with more medical knowledge than me - possibly just someone handy with a coathanger. This is how desperate I would have felt. I imagine that of the hundreds of women denied abortions last year because they were deemed 'not justified' a large number would have felt exactly how I would. It's just not right.Why did I not consider adopting out? We have had babies adopted into and out of our family over a few generations. And as a consequence I was told from young that babies would no longer be adopted out of our family. I knew that if I fell pregnant and wanted to opt for adoption, I would have to whāngai the baby to someone in my extended family - or face the disappointment or rejection of my family. I couldn't do that. I couldn't live with having a child from my body raised within reach by someone else. And I couldn't live without my family.
I think my decision to be an egg donor was due in part to my experience with my terminations. It wasn't that I felt guilt over them and needed to redeem myself, it was that (at the time) I desperately did not want to be a parent. I empathised with the position of people who desperately wanted to be parents. Because I understood the desperation. And because I had found myself knocked up accidentally on more than one occasion, I assumed I had the goods to help others. Turned out I did - I'm exceptionally fertile. And while the donation didn't result in a baby, I am still so glad I gave a couple a chance to fulfill their dream.
Me, ready for kids with my kids
Has being a Mum changed how I feel about termination? Kinda. I don't
regret my terminations at all - I wouldn't have the family I have today
had I not had them. I cannot predict the trajectory of my life if I
had, but I think it's unlikely I would have received the education I
have, met the people I have or had the experiences I have if I'd had a
child unsupported at age 18. Obviously, the not wanting to have kids thing changed over time (short story = Murray wanted kids and I love Murray). At the same time the idea of having a termination now is problematic. My family is definitely complete, but I don't know what I'd do if I fell pregnant. If I could have a medical termination at 6 weeks, I wouldn't even think twice. But having to wait to 12 - 13 weeks whilst growing that life while I live each day with what that little life could become? I'm not so sure.
What I am sure of though, is that abortion should be a legal option for women to decide about for themselves.
* A cousins Facebook friend completely swallowed this fact (church). I was happy to re-educate him on the 'facts' although he still was not happy that Ardern advocated abortion being legal.
** He did actually marry that girl.
*** Even though she still had two daughters, a son and five Grandchildren living in the Auckland area.
**** I never have any regrets. I don't believe regret is a healthy response because it requires dwelling on the past. What I do believe in instead is making mistakes. I think of them as mis-takes - as in you are making a film, and you didn't get the first take right so you have to do over. Sometimes you get it sorted on the second take, and sometimes it takes 42 takes to get the right shot. The main point is that you learn from what happened the first time and move forward.
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