I am 26 years old. I consider myself to have a good life. I’ve been married for more than six years. My husband and I have three children. We are paying for our home and have good jobs. We are financially set, and we have a happy marriage.
I thought abortions were for young girls, women who live in poverty, single parents, rape victims, medical emergencies. I never thought I would have one.
It happened so fast. I made an appointment for a medical abortion. I got the appointment the next day; I didn't think It would be so fast. I got an ultrasound done, but they didn't tell me how many weeks I was or show me a picture. By my calculations, I was around five or six weeks.
The doctor gave me the first pill to take right there and handed me a packet with the additional four pills to take at home. When he was going through my case, I saw a glimpse of the ultrasound picture. My baby was there, was already forming.
The doctor explained the procedure and made it seem quite easy. I thought about leaving, but I stayed. Not once was I asked if I wanted to go through with it. How silly is it to think they would ask? I was the one who went there.
The abortion itself was not painful – just cramping and heavy bleeding with clots. Nothing too bad.
But the shame and the anger are still there. I took away the chance for my baby to live.
My baby was conceived out of love, just like my other three. My husband, the father to my children, is the best husband ever. There was no real reason for me to get an abortion, other than having had three C-sections. A fourth one would be risky, but with good care I would have been fine.
I was too selfish to deal with another baby, because it's already hard raising three kids and working full-time with a husband who works a lot as well.
I try to find a justification for what I did, but I know I did a bad thing. My husband is supportive, but he does not understand me. I chose to have the abortion, yet I'm so angry – which I don't have the right to be. It was my decision.
I was raised in a Catholic family. I am so close to my mother, but I could never tell her. She would not forgive me, and I don't think I can forgive myself.
Note: The author of this testimony prefers to remain anonymous. 'Victoria D.' is a pseudonym.