I know the title of this piece is provocative. It likely drew you in, hoping I would align with your beliefs, whether that’s “I’m pro-life” or “I’m pro-choice.” But I’m not here to sway your opinion. I don’t choose a side myself. Your viewpoints don’t concern me; I respect you regardless of what you believe. Instead, I invite you to experience my perspective for just a moment.
First and foremost, I’m scared. My heart races as I write this. I’ve never felt so vulnerable. I’ve seen countless discussions about this topic, and I feel compelled to share my story—the one I’ve held close out of fear of judgment and disappointment from those who look up to me. I’m done hiding. I’m ready to speak my truth.
On June 30, 2016, my husband and I received devastating news: our baby was diagnosed with severe hydrops. This wasn’t a typical case; it was one that left my doctors in shock. At just 16 weeks pregnant, my little boy was filled with fluid, compressing his organs—his brain, lungs, heart, and stomach. Within a week, his heartbeat dropped from 153 bpm to 135 bpm. My doctor admitted he had never seen such a severe case at this early stage. Two other doctors confirmed it: “The prognosis is grim. Your baby is dying.”
That day felt like a void. I barely spoke or moved. The baby I longed for was slipping away, and I scoured every resource for answers. I begged doctors to check for infections. I prayed, shouted, and wept, isolating myself in my room.
Then came the word that I had always sworn I would never consider: termination. My doctors were unable to suggest it outright but their actions spoke volumes. One doctor, shaking his head, confessed he knew what he would advise his daughter. Another handed me a list of abortion clinics. As I discussed the potential risks to both myself and my baby, I understood their unspoken thoughts. A nurse, however, insisted I carry my son until I miscarried, claiming I would regret choosing abortion.
I am a Christian. I am a human. I am a partner. I am a mother.
I sought guidance through prayer and researched every possibility. I talked it over with my husband and ultimately made the choice I believed was best for my baby.
Due to stringent anti-abortion laws in Texas, I faced a painful reality: I had to leave my home and family to seek care in Albuquerque, New Mexico—five hours away. Just a week after learning my baby was dying, I was forced to confront a nightmare I dreaded. I was filled with both dread and an odd sense of peace, knowing I was doing what I felt necessary.
I was directed to unfamiliar doctors, stayed in a hotel far from home, and prepared to say goodbye to a baby I would never hold. Why? Because in Texas, inducing labor at 17 weeks is illegal, categorized as an abortion, and thus deemed wrong. It felt unjust to be unable to end the suffering of my child, to save my life by relinquishing one that would never truly exist.
That is what makes me hesitant to share my experience. I fear being labeled as “selfish” or “murderous.” I am still grappling with the grief of losing my little boy, and I don’t want to feel the weight of others’ disappointment on top of that.
Every day, my heart aches—not from regret, but from the loss of my son. This pain is shared by anyone who has faced the heart-wrenching experience of a pregnancy loss.
Some people live their lives on support systems, sustained by forces beyond their control. My cousin was one such individual, kept alive through life-support due to brain cancer until my aunt and uncle made the impossibly hard choice to “pull the plug.” In a tragic way, this mirrors my own scenario. I was the life-support for my baby, and when I accepted the reality of his condition, I made the heartbreaking decision to let go. There was no quality of life to sustain.
I cannot identify as pro-life. My experience has reshaped me. I am grateful that I had the option available to me. I cannot fathom a world where someone in my situation would be denied that choice, forced to endure the pain of carrying a baby that would not survive, possibly jeopardizing their own life in the process.
On the other hand, I do not consider myself pro-choice either. I struggle to understand how anyone could terminate a healthy and innocent baby. It breaks my heart.
Ultimately, I believe that God has endowed humanity with the wisdom to create medicine and procedures for a reason. It’s essential to recognize that when faced with medical necessity, we should not judge others for the decisions they make. You never know what someone is truly going through.
So before you share hurtful comments online about mothers who choose to abort, labeling them as “monstrous murderers,” remember that we are all humans navigating complex decisions every day. Compassion is crucial, even if you don’t agree with someone’s choices.
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Summary
This heartfelt narrative explores the complexities of pregnancy loss and the difficult decision of termination in the face of severe medical issues. The author shares her personal journey, emphasizing the emotional turmoil and the fear of societal judgment, while advocating for compassion and understanding in discussions surrounding reproductive choices.