Two Years After Abortion, Still No Regrets

It was April, two years ago, when life took an unexpected turn. In the heart of Amsterdam, within the confines of a tiny six-square-meter room, I found myself grappling with a revelation: I was six weeks pregnant. At the time, I was fully immersed in pursuing my master’s degree in philosophy and on the brink of starting an internship at a newspaper. Until then, the idea of pregnancy had never crossed my mind, and the only question I had was: ‘What does this mean for the person I am and want to be?’

“In the morning, I took the test, and immediately, two red lines appeared. At first, I couldn’t believe it, so I took a second test just to be sure. Again, two red lines.”

On the day I discovered I was pregnant, I was supposed to leave for Croatia with a friend to meet another friend already there. In the morning, I took a pregnancy test, and immediately, two red lines appeared. At first, I couldn’t believe it, so I took a second test just to be sure. Again, two red lines. I called my then-boyfriend and told him I was pregnant, expressing my decision that I didn’t want to keep it. After hanging up, I continued packing. As I stood ironing in the living room, my housemate was sitting on the couch. Eventually, I couldn’t hold it anymore and blurted out, ‘I don’t know what to do.’ He looked at me wide-eyed, unsure of what was happening. Suddenly, the words spilled out of my mouth: ‘I’m pregnant.’ And thus began the whirlwind of chaos.

After a brief hesitation, I decided to go to Croatia after all, hoping it might distract me. The first few days passed smoothly as we tried to keep things light. However, it wasn’t until the fifth and final day in Croatia that reality hit me hard. I felt isolated, my then-boyfriend was distant, and I spent most of the time in bed at my friend’s parents’ house. I heard the bedroom door open and close as my friends came to check on me, but I pretended to be asleep. Nonetheless, their presence brought me immense comfort.

Once back in Amsterdam, I secluded myself in my tiny six-square-meter room for several days, hardly stepping outside or engaging with anyone. Only a handful of friends were aware of my pregnancy, and I hesitated to tell others, fearing they would be overly concerned. All I could do was count down the days until I could go to the abortion clinic. It felt as if time stood still.

“Suddenly, I found myself mourning two things: the loss of something I didn't want and the person I had been together with for years.”

And so it happened; I remember the day it occurred vividly, as well as the days and weeks that followed. A month after the abortion, my then-boyfriend broke up with me, and a silence fell between us. Suddenly, I found myself mourning two things: the loss of something I didn't want and the person I had been together with for years. The dual grief was new to me, and I didn’t know how to navigate through it. All I could do was face it. To be completely honest, this was one of the most difficult times of my life, a period that felt like it would never improve. At one point, I believed I would never love again, never open up, but of course, this turned out not to be true.

Here I am, sitting at the table with a glass of wine, recalling that moment and reflecting on how my life might have unfolded if I had made a different decision. Just to give a brief recap of the journey: the initial months were the hardest, and I felt like the emotions would never fade or cease. Even six months post-abortion, I still experienced grief and sorrow, feelings that seemed to have no outlet, leaving me to navigate the process alone. It took me a year to come to terms with it, to realize that I had given it enough time and hadn’t run away from it, something I’m immensely grateful for.

Now, two years later, I still occasionally feel a fleeting wave of sadness wash over me, yet it no longer overwhelms me, and I believe this is what they mean when they say time heals.

“Other friends, once they knew, joined me in bed, sharing tea, watching romcoms, and staring at the ceiling together; no words were needed.”

Although I initially felt alone in my struggle, I now realize I was surrounded by a large support network. The friends I traveled to Croatia with were the first to comfort me, reassure me, and stand by me through it all. Back home, my housemates held my hand, brought chocolate, and wiped away my endless tears. Other friends, once they knew, joined me in bed, sharing tea, watching romcoms, and staring at the ceiling together; no words were needed. At work, my colleagues were understanding, allowing me space to grieve and heal. My closest friends reached out with kind messages, willing to listen to me and engage in conversations for hours.

Even though I waited months to tell my sisters, they comforted me, grateful for the supportive friends and the right people around me. Even strangers, after the publication of a short story about abortion, approached me with tenderness. And from that moment on, I realized I could open up to different people about this experience, without fearing their judgment. These individuals possess a healing power within them, allowing me to heal myself without regretting the choice I made.

Now I understand that this story isn’t solely mine, but also belongs to other women; it’s a shared experience we sometimes shouldn’t keep hidden, as the journey can feel too isolating. No matter how much time passes, there will always be a space to discuss this subject and to realize that you made the right choice without any regrets—and that’s something no one can take away from you.

Image: The Reflection Nebula in Orion, Image Number: PR00-10, Date: March 2, 2000