Mike stormed through the door after returning from the pharmacy, his frustration palpable. The cashier had dared to ask him, in an overly optimistic tone, “Is this a good thing?” His anger was clear, but what struck me most was the sorrow in his eyes. I had sent him to buy a slew of pregnancy tests after putting the kids to bed, praying that each one would confirm what I desperately hoped: that I was not pregnant. Yet, as long as my period remained overdue, I knew I would take test after test, seeking reassurance. I hadn’t even begun to search for clinic numbers or type out a Google inquiry, but the moment a plus sign appeared, I would be scheduling an abortion.
Throughout our marriage, Mike and I have navigated two pregnancies and welcomed three children, the youngest being just four years old. While we could undoubtedly find room in our hearts and home for another child, the physical toll would be overwhelming. We were acutely aware of what pregnancy would entail for me: extended bed rest, anemia, debilitating pain, a likely pre-term C-section, and the looming threat of postpartum depression. Most alarmingly, there was the risk of cancer.
Many people are familiar with the pregnancy “don’ts”—avoid raw fish, deli meats, soft cheeses, and cat litter. But they often overlook the reasoning behind these guidelines. A pregnant body is not simply inhabited; it undergoes significant transformations to support the creation of another life. Hormones reshape the pregnant brain, bones shift and expand, the lymphatic system adapts, and the immune system weakens.
During pregnancy, the immune system suppresses itself to prevent rejecting the developing fetus. While a healthy body can fend off toxoplasmosis—often found in cat feces—a pregnant body may not. Moreover, while typical cells in a healthy body are kept in check, a pregnant immune system may allow atypical cells to proliferate unchecked.
Contrary to the claims of anti-abortion activists, pregnancy can elevate the risk of various cancers, including breast cancer, cervical cancer, Hodgkin’s disease, and leukemia. For me, the concern is melanoma. The odds of developing such cancers during pregnancy are about 1 in 1,000, which, while less common than conditions like preeclampsia, still feels too high.
In my last pregnancy, I dealt with six cancerous or precancerous moles and several colon polyps. The thought of melanoma potentially spreading throughout my body during pregnancy terrified me.
My family has already faced the pain of cancer, and we work diligently to protect one another from its risks. We avoid harmful substances, advocate for clean environments, and support research initiatives. Yet, none of that would matter if a pregnancy test turned blue.
In a moment of shared silence, Mike and I contemplated our options. He regretted that during my last emergency C-section, the doctor hadn’t discussed a tubal ligation, while I recalled a friend’s wife who died just months after giving birth. A breast cancer survivor, her cancer returned during pregnancy, undetected until it was too late.
Birth control is rarely foolproof. Though Mike had a vasectomy, complications arose, increasing the chances of reattachment. My own medical condition prohibits hormonal birth control, and I also have a copper allergy. Despite precautions, pregnancies can still occur, and with my period two weeks late, I felt the aches and fatigue commonly associated with pregnancy—or perhaps just stress from juggling two jobs and motherhood.
Mike tossed the bag of pregnancy tests onto the coffee table, mumbling about the overly cheerful cashier, and I held his hand in solidarity.
Financially, we could manage another child, but at the cost of my career, which would likely require bed rest and extensive time in a neonatal intensive care unit. We would love another child, but the question lingered: for how long? How long until aggressive cancer, thriving only in my pregnant body, claimed me? My children need me—specifically me. They require the stability and love that I provide.
The thought of leaving them to navigate life without me was unbearable. I couldn’t bear to witness them grow up with the shadow of my absence haunting their childhood. For all my imperfections, I have always strived to be a good parent—kind, loving, and protective. But the idea of making them watch me succumb to treatable melanoma before they reached double digits was unthinkable.
In reality, women like me—mothers in their 30s who understand their circumstances—often face similar decisions. The healthcare laws regarding maternal health don’t always account for situations like mine, where the risks of pregnancy extend beyond immediate danger.
The truth is, I am just like every woman who anxiously takes pregnancy tests, fearing the arrival of another line. We love our children fiercely, yet the horror of needing to terminate a pregnancy is dwarfed by the dread of leaving our existing children behind due to unforeseen complications.
Ultimately, being a devoted mother should not come with the expectation of sacrificing one’s life for another child.
As Mike settled beside me on the couch, he handed me a box of cookies alongside the pregnancy tests. We shared the moment, enveloped in uncertainty. Even if my health were not at risk, and even if the baby we conceived didn’t require immediate, life-saving care, we still questioned whether another child would truly be a “good thing.”
What if the balance of our family was disrupted? What if we were unable to meet the needs of a new child? The fear of maternal postpartum depression loomed large, along with the possibility that my older children might feel neglected.
I reminded myself that I was no longer a naive teenager, grappling with the implications of a potential pregnancy. I was a grown woman, and this decision lay squarely on my shoulders.
Being a mother has never been easy, and the truth is, I didn’t anticipate it would be this challenging.
For those interested in exploring family planning options, this post on home insemination kits could be a valuable resource. Additionally, couples navigating their fertility journey can find expert advice at Make a Mom, and for more insights on pregnancy, check out this excellent resource on intrauterine insemination.
In summary, I would choose to have an abortion if I were to become pregnant again, not out of a lack of love for my children, but out of a profound understanding of the potential consequences for myself and my family.