A close friend of mine had an abortion at age 17. She was lucky enough to have the support of a few close friends and of her then-boyfriend, although she could not tell her parents. I didn’t think much of the abortion at the time; I marveled at her maturity, how uncomplicated the decision was for her. At age 17, she was not ready for motherhood. The condom broke. She had done everything she could to prevent pregnancy, and since she became pregnant anyway, of course she had an abortion. It seemed logical, personal, and wholly unpolitical to me.
I didn’t think of abortion again until a year later, when I began working at an abortion access fund. Separated from my privileged, upper class neighborhood, I heard the stories of women who simply could not afford to care for another child, women who had no money for themselves to live on, women forced to have sex, women who didn’t have health insurance for children they already had, women who had no childcare assistance, women who’s health insurance did not cover abortion, women who wanted to graduate from high school before becoming a parent. Access to abortion was a human right these women were pursuing, with difficulty, in the face of dozens of other obstacles facing them at the time. The pursuit of a safe, healthy abortion was not easy for these women as it had been, comparatively, for my friend. I worked at the access fund for four years, where I learned over and over again that it is not my place to judge a woman for her reasons for having an abortion. Only she can understand her personal situation and need for the procedure, and no woman takes having an abortion lightly. What I could do is make the process of getting an abortion easier by helping with the cost.
Later I transitioned to working as a counselor at an abortion clinic. Instead of talking to women over the phones, this was direct, in person contact, talking about everything from medical history and clinical details of the abortion procedure to a woman’s life situation and feelings about abortion. These women do not turn to me for judgement. They turn to me to figure out what’s coming, physically and emotionally, and how to deal with it. It is my job to do what I can to prepare them for it.
I work in abortion care because I trust that women know their own bodies, their own histories, their own lives better than anyone else, and deserve to be treated as experts, no matter their socioeconomic background.
I am Dr. Tiller.
