Every woman experiences an abortion in a different way, so we asked some women to share their stories. When they’ve requested it, we have changed their names.
A warning: some of this things discussed in these stories may be upsetting.
Just prior to my 21st birthday I had an abortion. At the time I thought it was the answer to my situation and that it would be quickly forgotten. However, it was not.
For many years I didn’t talk about it very openly, as abortion was and still is something of a taboo subject. So often we look at other people and think they have got it all together, but you never know the journey someone else has travelled.
When I first fell pregnant I wasn’t on any contraception and had gone away with my boyfriend. One thing led to another and I fell pregnant. I had miscalculated my cycle and realised afterwards, but it was too late.
Peter was the father and we were both very young; I was only 20. My emotions were very up and down, I was scared and confused. Would Peter leave me? Would I be bringing up another child without a father?
I knew what it was like to not know your father, as I myself had grown up in a so-called blended family. We didn’t tell very many people about the pregnancy, but many of those who did know, said that we would never get ahead in life if we kept the baby, and that we should get rid of it. There was much pressure – and no discussion of any other options.
As our family grew, I would look at our children and see their similarities and wonder which sibling our first baby would have most resembled. I still wonder.
Peter accompanied me to the abortion clinic, where I met with a counsellor. She agreed with my anxieties, indicated it was “for the best”, and promised to hold my hand during the procedure. I was still frightened and confused, but agreed to go through with it. I was awake during the whole thing and felt the suction. It took all of 10 minutes to change my life.
Although my main feeling at the time was numbness, that day is forever etched in my memory. I will never forget the other women in the recovery room crying for the babies they had lost. I know through hearing others stories, the abortion procedure itself hasn’t changed and accessibility to have an abortion is relatively easy.
For me a part of me died. I changed from an outgoing girl to someone who was more withdrawn. Few people close to me knew what had happened; not my friends, and I didn’t tell my parents. It would have been their first grandchild.
I realised quickly there was no place to openly grieve our loss. Peter and I married, but our marriage became marked by periods of private depression, when I mourned the loss of our baby. Peter too was suffering but he dealt with it inside and didn’t want to show it. He wanted to put it all behind us. As our family grew, I would look at our children and see their similarities and wonder which sibling our first baby would have most resembled. I still wonder.
Over the past few years, however, I have grown as a person, as a wife and as mother to my children. Peter and I were able to come to a point where we grieved together, which enabled us to move forward. I have walked a long road to grace and forgiveness – and it is because of this healing that I can now talk about it openly.
I have come to realise that many women feel the same. It can be difficult to work through and difficult to gain any sense of closure. There is no grave to visit, no tangible way of remembering this baby.
The abortion experience has never left me, and for years I have wondered how to give other women like myself a safe place to grieve; how to give them a way to commemorate the babies lost. Then I came across the story of the Paper Clip Project, and the idea for the Buttons Project was born.
My journey of healing has led to strength and hope – and a passion to help others who have been through a similar experience. Sending in a button or a story won’t heal anyone in and of itself, but it is a place to start….or one of many steps for someone already on the journey to healing.
I named our aborted baby, “Hope”. Hope for the future; hope to be a good mum, wife and friend: hope to make a positive difference in this world. And so I started the project by giving a button. It is for my baby, Hope, and for me. It is for hope in the future and peace with the past. It is for closure, and to commemorate something that was a part of us.
(Cover image: Flickr user LoveKnitting)
