The first woman I ever saw have an abortion was a young, petite blonde. She was already on the table when I came in the room. She wore only a thin blue blouse and socks. A medical paper cover draped over her from the waist down. The doctor told her to put her feet in the stirrups and scoot her bottom down, much like every GYN visit every woman has ever had. The assistant, my trainer, stood near the doctor and chatted with him about weekend plans.

I was startled by the realities of the procedure, but profoundly moved by the women who needed it