I am not going to explain the circumstances surrounding how and why I got pregnant, although the situation was strange. Often, women buffer the disclosure of their abortion with details that are meant to act as a justification for the procedure. Sometimes, when a woman gives you the back story, she is saying: “please continue to respect me even though I had the abortion I am about to tell you about, because it was not the bad kind of abortion and I am not the bad kind of woman.”
Were you being careful or not? Did you let him cum in you? Did you know he was going to? Why didn’t you take the morning after pill? Were you fucking more than one person? Do you know whose it was? Were you wasted? Is this your first abortion or your third? It does not matter. Pregnancy is what happens sometimes when people have sex, and an abortion is what happens when a woman becomes pregnant and does not wish to procreate–if she is lucky. If she, and whoever knocked her up, and her non-baby, and society at large are fucking lucky. There are zero abortion clinics in the entire state of Mississippi, and I had an abortion five blocks away from my apartment, because I am so lucky.