When I found out I was pregnant in December, I was so scared. I have a neurological condition that causes fainting and seizures. The pregnancy made me even sicker, and I started having episodes constantly. I felt like I was dying. I started searching immediately for an abortion in Indiana, but they all cost $1200. Who has $1200 lying around? So I asked my friend to take me to Chicago, where I found some abortions for Indiana medicaid clients for about $300.

I found a quiet, generic clinic. They warned me about protesters. I went inside and eventually sat down with a woman who told me what would happen. She said that she was going to give me some pills and that I could take the rest at home, but I had to take the first one in the clinic. She explained everything that was in them, and everything that I would go through. What I didn’t realize is that it’s not just a really bad period. It was like straight-up labor. I was in agony for 3 days because it took so long to find an abortion that by the time I was able to get it, I was 10.5 weeks. It was harder than it had to be—it shouldn’t have been that hard. I was weak for about 3 weeks after, but I’m stronger than ever now. It was painful and I desperately wanted and needed it.

Abortion needs to be a right because I got really, really sick when I was pregnant and I felt like I was dying. If it’s hurting you, then you shouldn’t be forced to go through with a whole pregnancy. It takes too long to just get it over with.

I was 22. He was 35. Or at least, that’s what he told me.

I had just moved to Texas for graduate school. I didn’t know anyone there. He lived in my new apartment building.

We had been dating for 3 months. I was on birth control. I still became pregnant. He wanted me to keep the pregnancy, but I wasn’t willing to compromise my future. I got an abortion. At the time, I instinctively knew it was the best decision.

Months later, I found out that this man had been lying about his name, his age, (he was actually 40 years old) and his birthdate.

I have never again questioned my choice, and I don’t allow anyone else to either.

Abortion is healthcare. It is a woman’s right to protect her mind, body, and spirit from those who seek to control it and use it to their own gain.

I was a 21-year-old in college when my birth control failed. I was on the pill and took a supplement that I was unaware would affect my birth control. I was finishing up my junior year and would be starting student teaching in August. When I saw the positive pregnancy test I was confused and scared. I had dreamed of becoming a teacher my entire life. I knew that having a baby would mean I would need to drop out of the teaching program. Student teaching is full time and unpaid. I was not in a steady relationship and both my parents worked full time. I would not be able to afford childcare while I finished school. I chose to terminate the pregnancy at 7 weeks. To this day it is the hardest decision I have ever had to make. I went on to graduate college with a double major in Elementary Education and Psychology. I have been teaching for 6 years and have been able to make a difference for hundreds of children. I recently became a foster parent so that I could foster one of my students in a family crisis. I now have a beautiful daughter with a man who loves and supports me. None of this would have happened if I had been forced to have a child in college. Every woman should have a choice in when and how she starts her family.

I know this has nothing to do with babies. This is all about control and we will not allow you to control us. No one should be forced to carry a child.

I was pregnant with my second child when the doctor told us we needed additional tests. After several ultrasounds and DNA testing it was determined that she wouldn’t survive outside the womb and would probably die inside me. I was in shock. This wasn’t something I thought would happen to me. I was at a hospital that wasn’t allowed to tell me all my options. Thankfully there was a nurse who explained everything in a scientific way, not a “pray for a miracle” way.

We decided to think about things and talk to family. I thought I could “be strong” and carry the fetus until it died. After one week, I realized I didn’t want to have all the questions about being pregnant and people being excited. I started obsessing about her dying inside me. The pregnancy was already weighing on my mind and impacting my ability to parent my daughter.

It was an awful experience, the hardest thing I’ve been through. As it turns out, I was/am strong. I had an abortion. I ended the pain and ended the pregnancy. I am so grateful for the medical professionals and that I got to decide when I was ready. I was a 30-year-old mom, married, with a higher ed degree, a professional career and I was capable of deciding to end my pregnancy on my terms. I am still capable and I have no regrets.

It’s healthcare. People have the right to decide when they want to be a parent. Raising kids is hard. It’s not something a person should be forced to do.

In 2009, I was a single mother to my 3-year-old daughter. We lived in a small one-bedroom apartment. I worked 40 hours a week but could barely make ends meet. I did not receive any child support from her father. I was on government assistance, receiving food stamps and childcare vouchers. I want to stress that I was also taking the pill. I was not in any romantic relationship and did not want to become pregnant.

It was close to Valentine’s day and I didn’t want to spend it alone. I went on a date and ultimately had a one night stand with him. A few weeks later I became severely nauseous and nothing seemed to help it. Then fear came over me because a co-worker mentioned I could be pregnant. My first thought was “no, that can’t be because I am on the pill.” But then I thought, ‘Well, I was on birth control when I got pregnant with my daughter.’ So I took a pregnancy test, and sure enough I was pregnant! Without any hesitation I knew I could not bring a child into this world to take care of. I was barely hanging on mentally and spiritually. Financially, I was living paycheck to paycheck and knew I couldn’t afford another mouth to feed. I had no family to help or support me. I thought about giving the baby up for adoption but after speaking with an attorney and he explained the process I broke down in his office because I knew I could not go through with the adoption process. I knew my only option was abortion. I chose to have abortion.

I called the clinic and scheduled my appointment. It would take 2 appointments for the abortion. First was on a Wednesday when the office had to confirm the pregnancy and show me the ultrasound. Luckily for me I was only 6 weeks along and the ultrasound tech could not find a heartbeat. I then had to wait two days and had the abortion on a Friday.

That was 13 years ago. I think about the abortion often, but I have no regrets. It was my choice! Today, I am 39 years old, a stay-at-home mom, with three amazing kids and a loving husband.

All medical (i.e. ectopic) or ethical (i.e. rape) reason aside, it is a human right for a woman to chose what she wants to do. Ultimately, it is the mother that has to carry the fetus/baby, deliver, and then take care of the child. If the mother knows she is not mentally, physically, financially stable to have a child then she should know that she has options.

My boyfriend and I attended a prestigious, religiously-affiliated university. Neither the student health center nor any on-campus stores prescribed or sold any forms of birth control. Freshmen weren’t allowed to keep cars on campus. Consequently, it was a long bus ride just to get to a drug store for OTC devices like condoms. We didn’t have regular access to any birth control except the “rhythm method.” After I finally was able to keep a car, I went to Planned Parenthood. I was tested (negative) and examined (negative), and told to start the pill 5 days after my next period started. That period never came. I was already pregnant when I was tested, but in those days the tests were not accurate early on.

My then-boyfriend of two years came from a poor family. Mine was barely middle class. Having a baby was impossible. Our parents would have been incredibly ashamed, and there is no way we would have been able to keep up with school with a baby. I could not give up a child I carried for nine months, either. So, I had an abortion at 9 weeks. My boyfriend paid for half of it, but we lived in different parts of the country, so I went to the appointment alone.

We had no regrets about the abortion, because it saved our lives. Both of us went on to have professional careers that paid well, though we did not stay together more than 3 more years after the abortion. We weren’t stuck together.

I remarried and had a wonderful daughter exactly when we wanted to—after I finished my professional education. My first husband never had kids, which was a blessing and further proof that our abortion was the right call. He never wanted to be a father. I did want to be a mother, but when I was ready. It should always be the woman’s choice!

This country was built largely by people who had different religious beliefs than their home countries, who persecuted them. That’s why the First Amendment exists.

It was 1983, I was 28 years old and totally irresponsible. Recently divorced, I began seeing an old friend and we became sexually active. I thought we were serious—I knew I was. I got pregnant. He insisted I get an abortion. He had no intention of having a long term relationship with me. I was devastated. I attempted to meet with my pastor—he was on vacation. My OB/GYN was Roman Catholic—he refused to make a referral for an abortion. I went to the local abortion clinic—I was past the 12-week cut off period. I called my OB/GYN office and spoke with a wonderful RN who referred me to a local OB who did abortions in his office. I made an appointment. The sperm donor went with me and paid for it. He drove me home and left. I have never seen him again. I am grateful that I had the option and resources for an abortion. While I regret it, it was the best decision I could make at that time.

It is a very personal decision that should not be interfered with by the government.

My husband and I are lifelong Hoosiers. I grew up in Bargersville and attended Hanover College—the 35th in my family to do so. I am an attorney, receiving my law degree from IU McKinney Law School. My husband grew up in Anderson and attended Rose Hulman to become an electrical engineer.

We had been trying to conceive for 4 years and finally got pregnant in the fall of 2020. At 9 weeks, the ultrasound looked great. Four weeks later, we found out we were going to have a little boy. We felt so blessed.

At week 20 in the pregnancy, we received our second ultrasound—the anatomy ultrasound which is more in depth. It was then we  got the earth-shattering news that our baby boy had an extreme birth defect, one of the worst cases of encephalocele they had ever seen. Over 75% of his brain was growing outside of his skull. The chances for encephalocele occurring are 1 in 10,000. Given how extreme his case was, he had a 100% chance of dying.

We got multiple opinions, all of them the same diagnosis and likely outcome. We had two options: lose our little boy now with a D&E procedure, or later with either a stillbirth or the infinitesimally small possibility that he might be born alive and immediately die in our arms.

This wasn’t a choice. There was no viable path to a healthy baby or birth. The emotional and mental trauma was already hitting us so hard. Words can’t express the pain and agony of carrying our son that week between finding out he was going to die and the day of the procedure.  To know he may be in pain. To know our miracle was lost.

I have flashbacks to the week when I carried him but knew he would not live. I felt him move and felt the movement lessen. I heard the sincere congratulations from strangers and loved ones, just to break down in tears and tell them that he was going to die and was dying inside of me right then. Between the news that shattered my world and this one-week wait, it nearly killed me. All I wanted was to save him and I was hopeless.

We lost him on December 30th. The doctor was so loving. She had children of her own. She knew the pain I was going through. She gave me her personal cell phone number and frequently called me, even on Christmas Eve, to check in on me, to listen to me cry, to answer any questions. At the hospital, the nurses embraced me as I sobbed. They gave me a beautiful urn that was about the size of a strawberry. It was ceramic and hand painted with trees and deer in green, yellow, and white. We keep it on our mantle.

I spent months in bed. I contemplated suicide. I talked to a grief counselor twice a week. I shut out my family and friends, neglected work, and woke up almost every night hyperventilating in fits of tears.

I wouldn’t be alive if I had to carry my dying or dead son to term. What I went through nearly broke me. The flashbacks to that week between knowing he was dying to the day we lost him still haunt me. Going through 4.5-5 more months of that purgatory would have killed me, killed my family, killed my marriage. No one is that strong.

Life will never be the same. I never appreciated grief until losing my son. I regret the times that I perfunctorily passed along condolences when family and friends had loved ones who had passed because I never really understood what that person was going through. Now I do. This type of grief lives inside of you. It never lessens. It just hits less frequently as time marches on.

It took us another two years to conceive again. We just had a successful 20-week anatomy ultrasound and are due in late October 2022. We cried and cried upon hearing that our new baby is healthy. Our son will never be replaced, but we are hopeful with our new miracle. We will tell her about her brother, walk her among the trees that we planted for him, and will love her with every ounce of our being, just like we loved and continue to love the little boy we lost.

I can’t tell you how many women I have met who have similar stories—women whose babies had lethal defects, women who begged their doctors to find a viable path but it was impossible, women whose babies would die inside of them. We cherish the miracle of life. We cherish pregnancies and babies. We want to build our families. But a greater power existed and rare defects took our babies late in our pregnancies. Without abortions, our lives and our future children’s lives would not have continued. Because of abortion, we were able to continue living, try to heal, and perhaps be lucky enough to conceive again. We do not take abortion lightly. In fact, it shattered our worlds. But it was a necessary medical procedure to save our lives when our babies could not live. We are grateful for the doctors and nurses who saved our lives and were merciful with our babies who could not live.