But it was such a lonely and isolating experience without support from others. Multifetal reduction usually happens within the first twelve weeks of pregnancy, but because the doctor we chose was very busy being one of the most highly recommended doctors in the field , we had to wait until thirteen weeks. I had to wait four weeks while knowing all the babies I was growing were not going to ever be mine.
I would never birth them, hold them, nourish them. I would never know them outside of my belly, outside of these tiny movements, their images frozen on an ultrasound. I felt powerless. I felt like a bad mother. I couldn't get pregnant naturally, and, now, I couldn't even hold a healthy pregnancy. I felt like I had failed. My heart was heavy. We had another ultrasound before the procedure which showed us that one of the twins was still way behind.
The doctor reconfirmed that the twin would never make it, quite possibly risking the other twin and the singleton. Using the ultrasound as a guide, the doctor inserted a needle containing potassium chloride through my belly into the placenta, stopping the twins' hearts. I cried. One, because it really hurt. Two, because two fetuses died in my womb.
Two fetuses I badly wanted, did everything within my power to have, would have done anything for. We had gone through so much to have these babies, and, so quickly, they were gone. And now we had to pay for them to be reduced?
Life felt spectacularly unfair. We were left with one singleton, a baby boy due in January. He is healthy. He is growing. I feel him kicking now, and I am so grateful for his little nudges on my belly.
Separating loss and grief from my happiness for my baby boy is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. It's one thing to know that this was the right choice; it's quite another to live with the reality of two dead fetuses in your womb.
They will eventually be absorbed into my body, which is what usually happens to a deceased fetus after multifetal reduction. But I could not, and would not, risk all of their lives when I knew one could thrive. As a mother, it was the only choice I had. Just enlisting in the U. Army, we packed our bags for Europe.
We both took preventative measures via birth control pills and the religious use of condoms until I was ready to commit to a vasectomy. However, as she was heading back for a routine tonsillectomy, a last-minute pregnancy test confirmed that despite our best efforts to avert this situation, she was pregnant.
Disbelief, shock, anger, anxiety, dread—I remember a flood of emotions that day. But out of all those negative feelings, I noticed a glimmer of excitement of the thought of having a baby. There was one hitch, however: My wife was currently taking a very strong medication that, according to her doctor and the FDA, causes severe abnormalities in percent of births.
Now off the market, it was such a dangerous drug that it required a pregnancy test before each monthly refill. Our first OB appointment was surreal. Even though it had a heartbeat, I knew it was still just a bundle of cells. So imagine my surprise when I noticed that not only was I feeling true excitement, I was feeling love towards this living, growing thing. Ending the pregnancy never really crossed my mind, until the doctor gave us the rundown on all the terrible conditions our child could be born with.
The hope that he might be born healthy was still there for the both of us, but it was short lived. Insistent that our baby WAS going to be born with many health issues, our medical team relentlessly pressed us to end the pregnancy. Being extremely young and independent, turning to our families for advice was a hard decision in itself. He reminded me of the pain that my uncle lives with everyday, not to mention the severe financial struggle they endured because of the long-term medical care he has needed.
Everyone had their own opinions of course, but in the end it was my mother-in-law that had one simple answer: pray. Then one random afternoon we got our answer, at the same time we looked at each other and knew what needed to happen. Up until my wife was almost five months pregnant, she was constantly asked to reconsider our decision.
I knew it was going to be tough to put it lightly , taking care of a child with severe physical and mental handicaps. But I was at peace with our decision and I knew without a doubt that there was a reason we needed to forego the abortion. And in my eyes, no matter what the capabilities of a child are, each child is a blessing and I was going to love him unconditionally, no matter what. Fast forward: NOW my child is an extremely intelligent, funny, handsome nine-year-old little boy.
He was born absolutely healthy, without even a small indication that things could have easily turned out different for us. If the child is kept and raised by the mother, many times the father is taken to court and through child support, legally bound to ensure the child is receiving proper care. My girlfriend and I found out we were pregnant recently, in the last week of January We have been in a happy, healthy, and committed relationship for a year.
Our situation was even more complicated due to the fact that we are currently in a long-distance relationship until Summer , since I had previously committed to a temporary work contract in another state before we had even met the year before.
Fortunately, my job brings me back to our hometown frequently so I can see her. During one such work trip back home, my girlfriend expressed concern that her period was two weeks late.
Although we use condoms every time, we immediately went to buy a pregnancy test, which came back positive. I immediately felt in shock, and I was distraught that I had not tried harder to convince her to use additional methods of birth control such as pills or an IUD. She was also in disbelief. As these thoughts swirled inside both of us, we outwardly tried to calm each other and talked about our options. My girlfriend quickly decided to terminate the pregnancy. Although I immediately gave her my support in whatever she chose, my feelings were still in a jumble, and I seriously entertained the idea of having a child.
Having a family is one of my main goals in life, and I felt conflicted to not embrace this opportunity, however surprising and untimely it was. Her health provider did not perform abortions, but they offered referrals to clinics. Unfortunately, Planned Parenthood did not have an available appointment for two weeks and I was scheduled to return to work out-of-state the next day.
Her provider had agreements with another clinic that had an appointment available two days later , which my girlfriend preferred. I also wanted to be there through the process to support her and ensure her health, so I changed my flights on my own dime and stayed home. The worst part was not feeling like I could tell my work and my family why I had extended my stay. Although I work for a liberal organization and come from a liberal family that is incredibly supportive, I still felt a taboo in discussing what we were going through.
The clinic experience was fast, safe, and comfortable for her, which was amazing, but even the clinic did not have resources available for men to talk about their trauma. It has been five days since the abortion and I have since talked to my sister and have plans to talk with a couple friends in person this coming weekend.
I also plan to talk to my parents in the coming weeks once I have fully wrapped my head around what just happened, but I am still hesitant to talk to my boss.
My girlfriend and I talk every day like we always do, although we are both experiencing a mild depression and feeling out of sorts at work, which we assume is normal. Part of me wants to reveal my name to break the chain of taboo, but I know my girlfriend is not ready to share this with the public, and in all honesty I worry that this could impact my career. I feel weak requiring you to keep my name anonymous, but also empowered that I was at least able to share my experience and read those of others.
I found out I was pregnant after I had broken up with him. Abortions were illegal in Spain , but I worked and had money saved and luckily I was able to afford to fly back to the U.
The whole thing cost a fortune with airfare, hotel, meals, etc. We had no home phone, no internet, no way to plan ahead except get a plane ticket, get to the States and figure it out when I landed.
I was very fortunate, but no woman should have to jump through any hoops to control her own body. Especially flying to a whole other country. I never for one second doubted that was what I wanted to do. My parents wanted me to go to a home for unwed mothers in the U. In my mind, it would be torture seeing strangers the rest of my life and wondering if it was my kid. The procedure went smoothly. I immediately got on the Pill and stayed on it for about 15 years.
I knew I did not want kids as a teenager, both from babysitting and having a dysfunctional mother who complained about having children as long as I can remember. Interestingly, none of my siblings have had kids either and that is a good thing, I believe. I refused to have a kid if it was not percent wanted. To me THAT is morally wrong. Or all of the above. It is wrong for them to bring kids into that situation. No matter what the fanatics want to believe, they cannot stop a desperate woman.
The only question is how many women will die from illegal abortions, not IF they will. The only regret I have about the whole thing is that my parents had to find out. Luckily, I had a good guy friend who was very supportive of me during the entire situation.
NOTE: Please do not use my personal email or real name. I was 18 years old and had broke up with my boyfriend. I had not been with anyone else, so to be rebellious, I took up with a man 17 years older than myself. Within six months I was pregnant and devastated. I was young, on birth control, not financially stable, and definitely not ready to be a mother.
I told him and he was supportive but suggested abortion. I did not want children and agreed. It was such an emotional roller coaster at the time. When I finally did, they made me wait.
The initial appointment led us to discover that I was further along than we first thought, and too far along to have an abortion in the state I reside. I was told to jump on a plane to have one in a different state. I decided to keep her. We had our daughter and I do not regret my decision.
What I regret is the man I chose to have her with. Within a matter of months of her birth, he changed and drank. I was left home with a newborn all night while he partied. His drug and alcohol abuse, domestic violence, and cheating escalated, taking a toll on my mental health. I did my best and I tried. Through family pressure, I married him when our daughter was nine months old.
I locked myself in the bathroom on my wedding day and cried while everyone begged me to continue and told me it was right for my daughter. I downed some expensive champagne and walked down the aisle. I regretted every moment. The destructive behaviors escalated. I left him many times, but like abusers do, he dragged me back with sweet talk and promises.
Those promises were empty, and many scary drunken nights followed. During a period of time that I left a few weeks , his father passed away. We rekindled, grieved, and became pregnant again. This time he was having a fully committed secret relationship with another woman, using a large amount of steroids, and had full control of every part of my life.
He and his mother forced me to have an abortion through mental and verbal abuse, and guilt. At the age 20, I had an abortion that I was not ready for and I did not want. It was devastating. I AM pro-choice, but this was not my choice.
Your series has been very enlightening. I am a married woman in my 50s. I had an abortion when I was Had I been given a safe alternative, I would have had and kept that child. I lived with what I thought would be my future husband. My mistake was in thinking he ever wanted more than a housemate. I found out I was pregnant and immediately disclosed it, even though I was terrified. He was already abusive.
He had refused to let me take birth control, which cost money he was unwilling to provide. This was also a man who refused to let me use my own paycheck to buy new bras or underwear. I was told if I had the child, he would kill us both, and he made no qualms about showing me what a good beating would cost us both. I made the choice.
That said, I also left him, as soon as I was able to get to my own feet and finances. I got lucky, later. An abortion and birth control clinic was nearby and reasonably priced.
I was 13 weeks when I finally found my way there. It broke my heart. It still breaks my heart. While I knew it was for the best, and for the safety of myself and my child, I also knew I would pay for it personally, emotionally, spiritually and physically.
And I did. It was horrible. I became terrified of needles and anything related to doctors. He made fun of me, as I cried over the whole thing. I spent weeks in pain afterwards. My heart never healed. Like many philosophical problems, it divides people into camps where everyone thinks their solution is obviously the right one.
First, there are pro-lifers who think the solution to the problem lies in the belief that every abortion is immoral. If all abortions are wrong, then an abortion that kills just one of the twin fetuses is wrong as well.
Nevertheless, many find it difficult to accept the pro-life position. Then there are pro-choicers who think that a pregnant woman is the only person who should have any say in whether she will continue the pregnancy and how many fetuses — if any — she will gestate. We should just accept that she is morally entitled to abort one of her fetuses and gestate the other — if that is what she wants. However, if we follow this reasoning then we should also accept that a pregnant woman is also morally entitled to end any number of pregnancies at any stage of the pregnancy for any reason, however trivial.
There is a way out of this challenge, but it is one that is seldom discussed among mommies-to-be: selective reduction. In cases of high multiple pregnancies, doctors will often recommend selective reduction for purely medical reasons. Early in the pregnancy, one or more of the fetuses are aborted from within the womb to increase the likelihood that the remaining babies and the mother will survive and thrive.
There are numerous health concerns to both mother and infants associated with carrying multiples. Thus for decades obstetricians have offered the option of reducing down to twins, which tend to have safer outcomes. This procedure can only be done with fraternal twins, as identical twins share a placenta and cannot easily be separated.
Fertility message boards such as fertilitythoughts. New York City obstetrician and leading expert in selective reduction, Dr. Mark Evans, says that reductions from twins to a single fetus make up about 10 percent of the reductions he performs in his office, and that number is slowly increasing.
Evans wrote the recommendations on selective reductions 25 years ago, but at time, he advocated for reductions only down to twins, barring extenuating circumstances.
0コメント