I noticed something was off in early December.
My period was a couple days late, and I just wasn’t feeling great.
The night before I took a pregnancy test, I finally told my husband. I told him about the late period, the nausea, and said that although it’s extremely unlikely that I could become pregnant with an IUD, it was possible. We talked about what we would do if I were pregnant, and although we seriously considered it, we both felt a little ridiculous even discussing it as a possibility because it seemed so unlikely. Both of us landed on the decision that having another baby at that time was not best for our family. It wasn’t the right choice for our two daughters, the youngest being only 9 months old at the time. It wasn’t the right choice for me, after two traumatic births that were close calls both times.
The next morning, I woke up very early and took the test. Instant positive. How is this possible? How could I be pregnant with an IUD?
The walk back from the bathroom to our bedroom felt a mile long, and my tongue felt swollen and too big for my mouth to speak. “I’m pregnant.”
My OB confirmed the pregnancy with an ultrasound, and hugged me while I cried. She told me that although she could not perform an abortion, she would oversee my care if I chose that option. She reminded my husband and me that I would be a high-risk pregnancy patient.
Planned Parenthood was booked out in Sioux Falls until the end of January, which would have limited my options to a surgical abortion only. Because I wanted a medication abortion, I sought other options. I found Just The Pill, an online service that connects women with doctors to provide abortion pills through the mail. Because of South Dakota’s laws, I had to drive across the state border into Minnesota for my consultation call with the doctor. The roads were icy in late December.
About a week later, I drove to the Luverne post office to pick up my prescription mifepristone and misoprostol. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and I took the first pill in the car almost immediately. I cried the whole drive back, saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” to the baby that could have been.
I took the second pill on Christmas Eve, and passed the pregnancy two days later. We were in New Orleans visiting family. I tried to keep it together. We “buried” the tissue in the same park where we got married. It felt like the best place to put her to rest.
I named her Alice.
All of these things were hard, but done with all the love I have for my family. It’s hard choosing abortion when you already have children. You know exactly what you’re giving up.
I told my sisters and some family that I lost a pregnancy because it seemed like the simplest explanation. When people have abortions, we’re often made to feel like it should either be a shameful experience or an empowering one. But for me, it was neither. It was just the choice that best supported the family that we already have. I don’t regret my decision, but I do mourn Alice, and someday I’ll tell my daughters about her.
