The Soul-Crushing Process of Having to Make a Choice
By: Andreea M.
Tags: Womens Rights, Poland, Abortion, Pro Life, Pro Choice

I just entered my 3rd trimester of pregnancy a few days ago.

At the beginning of my sex life I was obsessed with not getting pregnant. I vividly remember being about 20–21 years old and having sex with my then long time boyfriend and thinking how bad it would be to get pregnant. I mainly used condoms, but allowed a few minutes of unprotected play and it was in those minutes that I either saw myself ruining my life with a baby or burning in hell, no in between. It was also the beginning of online media, internet and all that and I remember watching “abortion” videos on YouTube that terrified me to the core. Sex was never enjoyable because I kept thinking of the consequences.

Modern day religious practices

I didn’t particularly grow up in the most religious of households. My mother was a big believer — and in her last 10 years or so her house started to resemble, smell and look, an orthodox church — but she was more spiritual than devout. I also remember her saying once that when she was in her early twenties (then married), her mother in law convinced her to have an abortion.

We talked about sex and she didn’t encourage virginity until marriage, but she was also frigid and sex was something dirty and disgusting. Pair that with her taking me to church mainly for tradition sake only at Christmas and Easter when everyone, regardless of age, would have to black fast in the morning, confess sins to the orthodox priest, then get the communion (piece of bread and some wine always given to the masses with the same spoon. Yes, you read that right), and I developed a huge fear of living in sin. In my early twenties, for as long as this lasted, I would tell the priest every Christmas and Easter that I had sex, he would listen, make a cross, and send me my way. It didn’t make me feel any better, though.

I was also philosophically inclined and it was really interesting to me to read (excerpts of or interpretations of) big names from hundreds of years ago trying to make sense out of life. I also vividly remember a chapter in my 12th grade Philosophy manual that directly dealt with the ethics of abortion from the perspective of Michael Tooley. You can agree or disagree with his Three Perspectives, but the fact that the issue of abortion was suddenly disputed as part of the ethics education of high school kids such as myself was a huge step in educating young minds about the benefits of critical thinking, and more, starting to differentiate between human-centric and religion-based ethics.

I would still think about the consequences of having sex while having sex (and then wonder what’s wrong with me that I can’t climax). And there were so many stories going around that time to fuel all these fears; a woman got pregnant after a bullet went through a man’s scrotum AND one of her ovaries. Another one after using the same towel as her boyfriend who somehow came in it (?). Yes, it’s as ridiculous as it sounds, but when you’re young and fearful you look everywhere for guidance. Just look at all the google searches starting with “can I get pregnant if…”.

I held these fears well over 25 years old (no, I did not believe the bullet crap or the towel or any of the other urban legends) thinking accidents can happen even with a condom. I took birth control pills and life just happened for me in a way that I only had sex in committed relationships but I always felt I was the responsible one. Somehow the guy would just vanish.

MY life would be changed, I would have to make sacrifices and if not, could I really see myself having an abortion? Ending a life? I was imagining myself 10, 20, 30 years after still in agony thinking about the murder I committed. I was reading testimonials of women who had abortions how their babies haunt them in their dreams and have been depressed ever since.

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to believe that bringing to this world an unwanted life would be better. Which was the scenario in which I would suffer more? Taking, ending a life and dealing with the pain, agony and consequences for the rest of my days, or bringing a child in this world and making him (or her) deal with the pain, agony or consequences of not being wanted?

At around 26 years old my fascination for humanity translated into wanting to study psychology (after having both a BA and MA in Journalism) and it’s at that age I started to feel like all my life I’ve been one of Plato’s shadows in the Allegory of the Cave and now I was finally ascending towards the exit and starting to see the reality.

Through both my own experience and understanding the hidden forces that shape who we are, attachment theory, the absolute vital importance of our first years that define our entire life, I saw how deep the cuts were for an unwanted child. A lifelong venom that can only be tamed, muzzled at times, but still a latent demon lurking in the shadows of our own existence.

Even in my deepest religious and fearful years I failed to see the glorification of a fetus above everything else. I was lucky enough I never had to make that decision — and I also vividly remember my college graduation day when I actually thought to myself that I’m in the clear and if an accident happens now I have more resources to raise this baby. Funny, again, all my thought process had nothing to do with my presumed baby-daddy. It was still all on me, like somehow I was creating this life out of nothing.

Pro — life or pro birth?

I also failed to see the arguments of those who glorify giving birth, who somehow always seem to stop at the birth part and disregard the ocean of uncertainty that happens after. They spitting out cookie-cutter solutions like ‘just put it up for adoption’ or ‘you’ll learn to love it’, feels like they’re talking about some piece of furniture that looked nice in the shop but somehow doesn’t fit the house color code. I wonder how many of the protesters outside Planned Parenthood have thought about adopting, fostering or at least being a Big Brother or Big Sister to some kids.