My abortion helped me become a mother

In the wake of Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death, abortion rights have taken center stage in the mind of voters across the country. But the meaning of our right to safe abortion goes far beyond the termination of unintended pregnancies.

Every year on International Safe Abortion Day, which falls on Sept. 28, I give thanks for the abortion clinic that helped make me a mother.

It was the fall of 2009. Married for three years and excited to start a family, my husband and I were elated when the pregnancy test came up positive. Our first ultrasound showed a heartbeat. Then, weeks later, I started spotting. At our next ultrasound, we learned that the heartbeat — and our pregnancy — were gone.

We wept. What had gone wrong? To make things even worse, it didn’t appear my body was ready to let go of the nowdoomed pregnancy. I asked for a dilation and curettage, or D&C, a procedure in which the cervix is dilated and the uterine lining cleared of products of conception. But it was Thursday — and my OB told me he only performed D&C on Wednesdays. Meaning I would need to go to work waiting for the cramps and bleeding that could descend at any time. It seemed unbearable. I asked him my options.

He said, “Well, I could send you to my colleague. But … he performs electives. Is that okay?”

I grew up Roman Catholic, in a community that was staunchly anti-abortion. And so I had no idea why my doctor was telling me about the abortion views of his colleague.

The next morning, when we pulled up at the Manhattan address he’d given me and saw the guards outside, I realized where I was and why he had asked.

I was getting my D&C in an abortion clinic.

I froze up. We had booked the earliest appointment possible; at the time, I had only wanted this nightmare over as soon as possible. But now, I was grateful because it appeared we had beaten the protesters. I didn’t want to know what it would feel like to be yelled at on the worst day of my life.

I sprinted through the dark into the building. I could never have predicted what happened next.

In tears the entire time, I filled out my forms and went back to receive my pre-abortion ultrasound. The technician unceremoniously stuck the wand in my vagina, looked at the screen, and then deadpanned: “Has anyone told you about your uterus?”

I looked around the room for the hidden camera. Was this really happening?

It turned out that this technician worked closely with my abortion doctor, who was also a fertility specialist. And she saw what my OB didn’t: that my uterus contained a large septum, which likely had stopped the growth of my pregnancy.

The doctor came in and confirmed the finding. He reassured me that I could get the septum removed and carry a future pregnancy to term.

As they helped me onto the table for my D&C, one of the medical professionals held my hand and told me that, believe it or not, they saw lots of women like me, with wanted pregnancies. They asked me to send them a birth announcement when I had my baby.

The following year, I did. I sought out a reproductive specialist, who confirmed that I had a large septum in my uterus that appeared to be the cause of my miscarriage.

Had the abortion clinic not seen this anomaly, I would have gone on to miscarry over and over again.

Many women with similar anomalies suffer multiple losses before their problem is ever discovered. I was fortunate. I had uterine surgeries in the months that followed, we conceived in March and our daughter was born in December.

She is now almost 10. I have never shared this story publicly, out of personal pain and dread of judgment. I do so today because I fear for the future of abortion rights in this country. Like 91% of legal abortions, mine took place in the first 13 weeks of my pregnancy.

Unlike medical care generally in the United States — which has suffered from persistent gender bias — abortion clinics provide woman-centered care. While political rhetoric often focuses on unintended pregnancies, clinics help many women in many ways that promote their reproductive health and their future as mothers.

Sometimes I can’t sleep at night because I’m thinking of the other women out there with uterine anomalies or other fertility issues without access to the same care I had.

So tonight, as I put my daughter to sleep, I’ll be giving thanks for our right to safe abortion. Without it, I would not be her mother.