Updated: January 25, 2019
Originally Published: August 21, 2015
Each morning, I find myself scrolling through social media to catch up on life’s happenings. At this point in my life, my feed is often filled with joyful pregnancy announcements and adorable baby pictures. I genuinely enjoy these glimpses into others’ lives. However, lately, I’ve noticed an unsettling increase in discussions surrounding Planned Parenthood.
Initially, I hesitated to watch the videos circulating online, fearful that they might evoke a gut-wrenching reaction given my own circumstances. But surprisingly, I found myself more anxious about the future of the organization and the implications of recent legislative changes. The climate is charged, especially with new abortion restrictions emerging at both state and federal levels, and it has made me acutely aware of the potential losses for women everywhere.
To provide some context, I’m an OB/GYN. My training took place in a hospital that, due to its conservative location and state funding, did not perform abortions. As a result, I seldom encountered women seeking them. Nevertheless, I have always identified as pro-choice, believing that no one can truly understand another’s reproductive choices unless they’re in the same situation.
My own pregnancy had been progressing smoothly. We decided to try for a second child just before my son turned two, and to my surprise, I conceived right away after having needed infertility treatment for my first pregnancy. Although I experienced some nausea in the early weeks, I felt relief as I began to feel better. Friends and coworkers were starting to inquire if I was expecting, and I was openly excited about the news.
By the time I reached 12 weeks, our early genetic screening results came back clear: no Down syndrome or fatal trisomy conditions. We were having a girl! As an OB, I’m aware of the potential complications that can arise during pregnancy, but my genetic screenings had been reassuring. I started shopping for the nursery, excitedly picking out dresses and blankets, and we began discussing our little girl with our son.
Everything changed during our anatomy ultrasound at 19 weeks. My husband, also an OB/GYN, was with me, and we joked about our baby girl’s modesty as she wouldn’t cooperate for a good view. However, the mood shifted dramatically when the sonographer struggled to capture the necessary heart images. Words like “stenosis” and “overriding” floated around the room, but I was in denial, not fully grasping the implications. When the sonographer took my hand and said, “It’s nothing you did,” that was the moment I understood something was wrong.
A high-risk specialist entered to further assess the situation. Despite our familiarity with him, the news was daunting. They couldn’t pinpoint the issue, but we left knowing there was an unspecified heart condition. They offered an amniocentesis, but I hesitated, thinking the results might not provide clarity in time. The 20-week termination limit in our state was mentioned, but I didn’t dwell on it.
After much consideration, we decided to undergo the amnio, hoping for reassurance. The same doctor who performed the ultrasound conducted the procedure and confirmed suspicions of a heart defect known as Tetralogy of Fallot. This condition is often manageable but requires surgery in infancy. We felt a flicker of hope, thinking we could handle the challenges ahead.
Following a detailed fetal echocardiogram, we met with a pediatric cardiologist, expecting more good news. Instead, we were informed that our daughter had Tetralogy of Fallot with absent pulmonary valve—a diagnosis that significantly complicated her prognosis. The enlarged pulmonary arteries could endanger her life even before birth, and her chances of survival were grim.
Over the weekend, we grappled with the reality of our situation. The potential for our baby to endure a painful existence weighed heavily on our hearts. We discussed termination, oscillating between the fear of guilt and the desire to spare her from suffering. I was desperate for validation, wishing someone would tell me it was acceptable to choose not to subject her to a life filled with medical struggles.
We sought a second opinion with another pediatric cardiologist who confirmed the diagnosis. The details were harrowing—ventilator dependence, feeding tubes, and multiple surgeries were all potential outcomes. The prospect of bringing a child into the world only to watch her suffer felt inhumane.
Ultimately, we made the heart-wrenching decision to terminate the pregnancy. The emotional toll was immense, compounded by the insensitive mandatory counseling I had to endure. I cried through the entire process, navigating a whirlwind of grief and pain. Just as I prepared for the procedure, my water broke.
This experience has underscored the critical need for women to have access to the full spectrum of reproductive health care, including the option for abortions. The implications of restrictive laws extend beyond personal choice; they affect the well-being and autonomy of all women.
If you’re navigating similar circumstances, I encourage you to seek out supportive resources. Consider exploring fertility supplements that may aid in your journey here. For guidance on the week leading up to your due date, check out this resource. And if you’re curious about the IVF process, this link offers valuable insights.
Summary
The experience of a 20-week abortion ban poses significant risks for women, limiting their reproductive choices and affecting their health and emotional well-being. Access to comprehensive reproductive care is crucial, as demonstrated by the author’s deeply personal journey through pregnancy complications and the difficult decision surrounding termination.