From the latest contributor to our ever-evolving series on abortion:
I had my first abortion in my early 20s (this was in the 1980s). My fiancé and I had just graduated from a prestigious college and were looking for our first serious career-type jobs. My doctor changed my prescription, and that first month on the new lower-dose pill, I got pregnant. The doctor questioned me closely, saying I “must have done something wrong,” but when it was clear I had followed his directions exactly, he finally said “well, that shouldn’t have happened.”
My fiancé was shocked—a failure in birth control had never occurred to him—but supportive. I knew I would have an abortion because I’d thought about the issue back before I became sexually active in college. He agreed this was not the right time for either of us.
A few years later, when we were married, he insisted he wanted a divorce. He was unhappy with his life overall, had decided that he was bisexual, or maybe gay—definitely not monogamous—and didn’t want to be tied down.
But he said he wanted a baby, before we got divorced.