I am, however, ashamed and embarrassed that the Massachusetts law still exists. Because I got access to the care I needed, I was able to continue my education and eventually graduate from Yale Law School. I’m no longer ashamed or embarrassed of my abortion. I’d wanted to pretend that the abortion was something happening to me, not something I was choosing, but she waited until I told her I was sure. “Are you sure you want to have an abortion?” “Have you considered the options besides abortion?” she asked me, when we were alone. Then we were inside.Ī counselor reviewed the different options. “Don’t go in there.”īob shielded me from the protestors with his body. Outside the abortion clinic, a handful of people bundled in scarves and hats stood in the parking lot with signs that said “abortion is murder.” A woman approached me, her hand extended with a pamphlet.
He loaned me money for the abortion and drove me to Connecticut, where I could obtain the medical care I needed free from courtroom stigma and shame. He was the adult in my life who I trusted-but he wasn’t my parent and therefore couldn’t consent. Luckily, an ex-boyfriend of my mother’s, Bob, believed in my future. I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to use my pregnancy as an excuse to punish, berate, and shame me. I couldn’t bear the thought of having to go back to my mother in North Carolina and beg her for permission for an abortion.
