Pregnancy decisions are a p rivate matter

IT was 2013, I was sitting watching my one-year-old son playing, while I was having a miscarriage. This was day three. It was an early one, nothing very dramatic. I went to work the next day and the early pregnancy unit the day after to check if it was all gone and that was it. No funeral, no burial, I could’ve dreamt it. It was a sad experience, but manageable.

The Savita inquiry had been in the news. I was oblivious, really, to the Eighth Amendment prior to that. It seemed normal that women had to travel for an abortion. But it hit me, as I looked at my one-year-old playing, that I was more important than that foetus, at that time.

I was this child’s mother. He needed me alive and healthy. Then, my husband came in, a look of concern on his face. Not for the foetus at that point, but for me. I was more important than that foetus, at that time. He needed me alive and healthy.

In the three pregnancies that I brought to term, my connection and love evolved over time and in uncomplicated circumstances.

If, at any time, there had been a conflict between my needs and the demands of the pregnancy, I could only make any decision based on the gestation at that time and the issues that were coming into conflict with it.

I know any decision would’ve been based on how it would affect the lives and well-being of my family.

I have withheld my name, because this story is personal. It’s private and it should remain that way. I wish no one had to tell their private stories, but, ironically, it seems we have to, precisely in order to help people see this is what these things are: private. They shouldn’t be up for public debate.

NAME AND ADDRESS WITH EDITOR