I never wanted children. In school I worried about the growing human population, joining Save the Whales, Save the Forests, Save the Orangutan. I vowed not to add another consumer to the globe. When I became sexually active at 17, I trotted down to the local clinic for birth control pills.

At 28 and having relocated for a good job, unaccompanied by the love of my life who had promised to go with me, I followed my doctor’s recommendations and gave my body a break from the pill. I hadn’t found a replacement when I stupidly drowned my sorrows in several evenings of unprotected sex with someone who liked me more than I liked him. Four weeks later, I looked in horror at the pregnancy test. I felt idiotic and irresponsible, but spent little time soul-searching; my decision was clear. I wasn’t going to bring an unwanted child into the world and had no attachment to this multicelled embryo. As a wildlife biologist, I knew nature regularly provides female mammals with options. Deer, skunks and other species can absorb or abort foetuses when their health or that of their offspring is compromised.

Thankfully, another clinic offered alternatives. I listened politely but did not waiver. The procedure went smoothly, with no complications. I wondered when I would begin the oft-described struggle with remorse and guilt, but it never happened. My secular upbringing, lack of maternal desire and scientific training protected me from that misery.

At 64, I am grateful for a fulfilling and happy life as a childless woman. I shudder to think how my life would have been had I lived in a country and during a time when I couldn’t control my reproduction.

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