Abortion stories and experiences

I didn't know that I was pregnant. I came to the MSF clinic because I had a toothache and a fever. When I saw that they were giving away contraceptives, I asked for some.

They said I had to have a pregnancy test first. It looked negative, but when I went around the corner, the other line appeared. I came back crying. They connected me with an MSF psychologist.

My doctor back in Venezuela had said it was dangerous for me to get pregnant again. I've already had four Caesarean sections. If I'd had to, I would have looked anywhere for something that could end the pregnancy. There are many options—there are plants, there are things you can drink. I can’t get pregnant again because I could die.

The next day, MSF sent me to the hospital to receive the pills for an abortion. My whole family supported me having the abortion. I already have children. I want to see them grow big.

Now, I’ve received an implant that will prevent me from getting pregnant for five years. Thank God, MSF gave me this implant [for free]—in Maracaibo, it would be expensive.

A little while later, my body started to feel strange. I went to the hospital again. Another nurse in the maternity ward examined me and said I was 12 weeks pregnant. I told her: "I can't have this child. I'm not in a position to have this child.” She gave me one pill under my tongue and some pills to put in my bag and take at home, which I did. 

I started to bleed—I lost a lot of blood. My husband wasn’t at home so I called him. He said: "This is your business. I take no responsibility because I already told you what I wanted.” I spent all night bleeding. The next morning I called my younger sister and asked her to come and stay with the kids.

I took a taxi to the hospital. I still had pregnancy tissue inside me so they did a vacuum aspiration and gave me IV fluids because I was weak. Thank God, I recovered, I didn't have any infection, and I’m still here.

We should be thankful in Mozambique that abortion is legal now—that we don't need to use unsafe methods that can harm us. I was one of those who used an unsafe method. I was lucky to have been treated.

We should only do safe abortions. It is easier and doesn't require many resources.

I put my marriage on the line because it was my health at stake . . . because I knew I was not prepared for another pregnancy. My partner wanted me to sacrifice myself. 

Women who have abortions are not bad, not murderers—so many names we say. It is a need. We have to have autonomy in [making decisions about] our reproductive health. Because if we are not autonomous, sometimes we end up dying because we want to satisfy our partner's will, satisfy our mother's will, satisfy the will of an uncle, an aunt, a grandmother . . . 

The best thing is to decide for ourselves what we want to do with our health, because that will also save our life.

At first, nothing happened. After a few days I started to have pain. I started to bleed and I felt very weak. I suffered a lot, so I went to a doctor. I had developed an infection. They removed what was left in my uterus and I felt better. 

Here, in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo, it is not easy to talk to people about something like this. I only told some people what happened—but I can’t tell anyone else, not even my mother. If I tell anyone, they'll think I'm a monster. In our culture, if you have an abortion people think you're a witch. So many women do it in secret and it can be dangerous, or even kill them. This is what almost happened to me.

I would like us to break the taboo on abortion and treat people who have abortions as normal people.

Typically, in our country, it's difficult to talk about problems such as unwanted pregnancy. It's complicated with our traditions and taboos.

Young girls are afraid that if their parents know they are pregnant, they'll be beaten or thrown out of the family. It's very painful. We should be able to say that: it's painful. Girls are losing their lives.

I searched online to see if abortion is okay according to my religion, and I asked some trusted family members about it. All the answers said that it’s forbidden since the fetus had a heartbeat. But I couldn’t accept that at all.

I finally went to the MSF hospital. It took me one month to find a facility that would help me. I met a doctor there, and she took me inside. She gave me an envelope and instructed me to take the [abortion] pills every three hours when I got home.

In a few hours I started feeling pain. The MSF doctor supported me the whole time. I would call her, and she would answer [the phone], even in the middle of the night. From 4:00 a.m. to when the abortion was completed at 3:00 p.m., she was frequently checking up on me.

I felt very good when I was able to end the pregnancy safely. I thank God and I thank MSF for making this easy on me. The MSF doctor that gave me advice saved me from a lot of suffering. I was not even 20 years old, and I had to face this difficult situation. I’m a student and already have a lot of commitments, so I wouldn’t have been able to take care of a child with special needs.

Then I went to a clandestine clinic, and they told me to wait a few weeks so the fetus would be bigger and they would be able to take it out. That really scared me. I didn’t want to wait any longer—I was eight weeks pregnant.

I went back to the pharmacy to buy those pills again, and I did have an abortion this time. It felt like menstrual cramps. I was so relieved. It was as though I was getting my life back.

At the time, I only talked about the abortion with my boyfriend. The fact that he scorned me made me realize that the abortion was the best decision I could have made. When I broke up with him years later, he told my entire family that I’d had an abortion. I became severely depressed and cried all the time because of the things my sisters said to me. After 10 years, my family still judges me because of it.

When anti-abortion people talk about post-abortion depression, I really think the depression is due to what they make you feel. They blame you, they reject you, and they turn their backs on you.

When I was affected by the things they said, I talked about it with a friend. I knew she was a feminist. She always talked about women having choices.

It is very difficult for women to talk about abortions in our society. How long will women have to suffer because of this? It seems as if centuries have passed but nothing has changed. In 22 years of married life, I don't think I have seen anything change! 

I shared my grief, my struggles, with a woman in my neighborhood—like I am sharing with you right now—and I broke down into tears. 

She told me about this clinic [MSF’s Umeed Ki Kiran clinic] where I could get help. Initially, I felt very embarrassed to come to this clinic and have an abortion. But when I dropped the veil of embarrassment and sought help, I experienced a lot of relief and I was able to pull myself out of this difficult situation. I received the tablets to have an abortion here, and I have received every type of help I needed from this place. I’ve also gotten pills to take daily in order to avoid getting pregnant again.

Following the advice of the doctors—that this pregnancy could be a risk to my health—my husband and I decided to end the pregnancy. Where we live, it’s not acceptable that a woman makes this decision by herself. If the pregnancy occurs outside marriage, then a woman may have to make that decision alone to avoid the shame of becoming pregnant outside of marriage. But if a woman is married, then her husband must know that she is pregnant, and they must make the decision together—otherwise it’s forbidden. 

I immediately went to the MSF clinic and asked for their help. The health care providers at the MSF clinic gave me the abortion pills to take at home. Then after some time, I felt the effects of abortion. I had pain and bleeding for about four days following the abortion. I went back to the MSF doctor, and she gave me some medication to help with that.

If it wasn’t for MSF I would have suffered because I cannot afford other options.