Brazen’s TEA Dialogues: My Mother’s Courageous Silence on Her Abortion

by Anonymous

Brazen’s mission hopes to help people live boldly and without shame after having an abortion. When I heard this, I imagined someone standing at the top of a mountain, shouting that they didn’t feel shameful about their decision while millions listened intently. It felt like a far away future, a utopian scene that didn’t have any resemblance to the life I’ve seen my loved ones, who have had an abortion, lead. I thought of my Mom first, her strength similar to the strength of the ocean — deep and powerful without being menacing; it’s not boastful, nor too proud but it’s presence is undeniable. Six years ago, at the age of 45, my Mom had a medical abortion.

I was one of two people to know, which meant I was one of her biggest support systems at the time. I held her hand, supported her decision, and promised to keep her secret not due to shame about the abortion itself but rather events surrounding the pregnancy. We didn’t talk about it for years, which felt strange considering her immense strength meant she never held back from sharing her truth in every other area of her life. When I began working with Brazen, it weighed on me more; I was having conversations with everyone about abortion except for the one person I loved the most in my life who had one. Finally, I decided if I was going to live by Brazen’s mission, that meant having these necessary conversations with the people around me — starting with my Mom.

I caught her in the kitchen one day while we were alone, bringing up the idea to see if she’d even be interested. I told her I’d want to talk about her miscarriage as well as her abortion as they seemed to affect her in drastically different ways. Without hesitation, she agreed and weeks later we finally decided to meet for dinner. On my way to the restaurant, she texted me to tell me she was inviting my sister as she was jealous we had planned a dinner without inviting her. “Are you sure?” I asked considering she had never shared her abortion story with anyone but me and one other person. She wasn’t, but as she wanted this to be the last time she spoke about her experience, she invited my sister to come anyways.

Once at the restaurant, an awkward silence filled the tension as we ordered our food. I felt compelled to be the one to break it so I began by addressing my sister, “before we start, we’re going to be talking about something Mom’s never told you before and once this dinner is done, she’d rather you kept it a secret as she doesn’t want to address it again.” My sister was in complete agreeance so I began by asking my Mom to share her experience with a miscarriage she had before I was born. Growing up, I heard her speak about the miscarriage to such extent that I felt her hurt deeper each time she told the story. It made sense to me — it would have been her first child and she was elated at the time to be a mother.

Mom: I was 20 weeks pregnant when I knew something was wrong. It was the night your Dad got into a physical altercation with a friend. I tried breaking up the fight but the stress of it all made me feel sick. My cervix opened, allowing bacteria in which caused me to deliver at 22 weeks. Before I knew it, I was in the hospital delivering this child that I knew wasn’t going to live.

Me: What made this experience different to the abortion? This is something we not only talk about to this day, but we even visit her grave when we’re in town. Yet, you never talk about the abortion as if it was a loss.

Mom: Because it was different. With the miscarriage, I mourned the loss of all the future plans I had with my wanted pregnancy. I had planned for a life — a life where I saw her going to school on her first day, taking her first steps and all of the experiences that comprise a life. Life for me began after she was born, all of those first experiences is what I was mourning. When I had the abortion, I didn’t see that for that pregnancy. I was already a Mom to three children and I was 45. It wasn’t time for me to have another child.

Me: How did you feel afterwards? This isn’t something we’ve ever talked about.

Mom: I wasn’t sure. Growing up in a traditional Latinx Catholic household, we didn’t talk about sex let alone pregnancy outcomes like abortion. It’s not that I didn’t know about it, I knew of girls when I was younger who were performing self abortions rather than ask their family for more information. Then going to Planned Parenthood to talk about moving forward with the abortion, there were protestors outside of the facility with graphic images. I felt assured in my decision but everyone else was telling me I shouldn’t be. So afterwards when I felt immediate relief, I questioned it and wondered if I should be ashamed.

I paused then, wondering how it could be that I was helping to destigmatize abortion on college campuses while my Mom was having a battle within herself due to the stigma others have imposed on her? She had two people supporting her decision when a wave of strangers were telling her she should be ashamed. All because we didn’t have this conversation sooner — because these conversations don’t happen often enough. It wasn’t a lack of strength that caused my Mom to stay quiet about her abortion but rather a lack of privilege. I acknowledge now that living with your abortion boldly and without shame is a privilege — a privilege that my Mom, who grew up in her traditional Latinx Catholic household, was without. A privilege that I possessed due to the space my Mom provided growing up, where I was allowed to think freely and talk openly. In a way, I was giving back to her what she so courageously gave to me.

Mom: I feel strange now talking about this in front of my youngest [my sister], I feel like she’s judging my decision

Me: No, she’s not judging. She’d make the same decision. Right?

I turn to her, assuming she’d quickly agree. We had grown up in similar ways and we held other similar progressive values so it felt like an easy assumption to make.

Sister: I’m not judging but no, I wouldn’t make the same decision. I wouldn’t have an abortion myself but I wouldn’t judge or take away that decision for someone else.

It was clear to me then, and after we all left the restaurant that more conversations like this had to happen between us and the people in our lives. I had two people I cared about deeply, who I talked to about nearly everything else, and I hadn’t had a conversation on an issue that impacted all of our lives. I would have never known that my sister felt differently on her view of abortion than I did, had it not been for my Mom so bravely inviting her into the conversation. That’s exactly what we hope to accomplish through Brazen’s TEA (Talking to Everyone about Abortion) Dialogues. We’re here to create space for these conversations not only on college campuses but in our lives — to use our privilege to lead boldly and speak about abortion without shame.

We invite you on this journey with us as we work to destigmatize abortion in our personal lives. If you’re interested in writing about your experience facilitating a discussion with the people in your life about abortion, contact us at boldandwithoutshame@gmail.com.