My Soul, My Choice A Woman's
Story by Karina Diaz
Image by Erin Traylor

Reading through the paper lately, I come across story after story about abortion rights. They are more reminders of the decision I made two years ago.

As the abortion battle continues in courts across the country to consider whether the Partial-Birth Abortion Act violates the rights of women to abortions as guaranteed by Roe vs. Wade, the issues of fetus versus baby and procedure versus killing are stirring up emotions that many women, including myself, have had to grapple with. That such a personal decision is being taken up by others infuriates me, not simply because it is my body but becuase I am much more than a mere body and I made this decision from the depths of my soul.

Had this law been enacted just two years ago, I would probably be at a very different place in my life. I had an abortion in 2002. I was 21, and it was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I was never against abortions, but I never thought I would ever have to consider it.

It was February; I had missed two periods, but was in complete denial about the morning sickness and constant cravings for corn dogs and lemon ice cream. I ignored it until one day in class I began to feel extremely dizzy and hot. I went to the restroom, but felt very strange and decided to go to the health center. Before making it there, my vision failed me. I could hear people around me, but not make them out. I asked for help and a friend led me, blind to the center. It turned out I was rapidly approaching twelve weeks of my pregnancy.

The doctor said I needed to make an appointment right away if I was going to keep the baby. Between tears, I managed to let out, "I can't keep it; I can't keep the baby." Millions of thoughts raced through my head. I couldnÕt believe it was true. This should have been a cause for celebration, but in my case, it was a failure, and instantly devalued my existence. I was pursuing my education, had a long-term boyfriend who I was completely in love with and we even thought we would get married. However, I knew I could not have our child, which I did want, but not then. The doctor gave me the information about a clinic that performed abortions and I went on my way trying to act normal.

I made an appointment for that same week. I went in with my sister and we waited endlessly in that room.

When I finally went in the counselor, I didn't get a lot of counseling. They wanted to be sure that this was my decision and it had to be fast because I was nearly at 12 weeks. I had to come back for an ultrasound and get some things inserted in me to make it easier to perform the abortion. During the ultrasound, I desperately wanted to see that picture, to see my child, but I thought it would only make it more difficult and I fought the urge to turn towards the screen.

On the day of the abortion, my boyfriend dropped me off in the parking lot and an escort helped me inside the clinic while a single "pro-lifer" waved a sign at me from the street. I was so scared. I changed into a hospital gown and went into a room already full of young women in gowns. They were all different ethnicities, mostly young, and we sat in silence for the most part while our turn approached. They didn't seem nervous and I wondered what their reasons were while I thought of my own.

When it was my turn, I slowly followed the nurse down the hallway and took a seat on the table with fear in my heart. I placed my feet on the stirrups and laid back watching several people move about the room. I started shaking. They strapped me in, and the nurse held my hand to put the injection in my arm. My legs began to tremble and I blacked out.When I woke up I was laying in another room with several girls beside me. I felt a little disoriented, I think I even threw up. I put my clothes back on and my boyfriend came in to give me a ride home. I was kind of quiet; I was tired and couldnÕt believe that it was over so quickly.

Although the physical part is over, the psychological parts of the abortion continue to haunt me - in thoughts, dreams, and mostly in the faces of children that would be her age. I can never get away from that, but I know that it was the best decision for me at the time, and I should not have to defend my actions to those who have not had to make the choice themselves. They can never understand, and they have no right to make the choice for me.

Click to read a related story:

Lost Fatherhood
Story by Hector Gonzalez