The next note is from my patient Kendra, whom I had seen in the emergency room of a hospital where I also work. She was so happy about her pregnancy, but she developed a life-threatening infection in her second trimester. It didn’t respond to antibiotics and rapidly spread through her body. It was impossible to save both her and her pregnancy, so I perfor med h er abortion in the hospital.

“You saved my life that night!” she wrote. “You are my God Sent Angel.” In the E.R., she had asked her grandmother whether God would punish her if she ended her pregnancy. Her grandmother, through tears, reassured her that God would understand. And now Kendra writes that perhaps we were brought together by God. I reach for tissues, humbled by the knowledge that sometimes abortion is lifesaving, even as many understand it to be life-ending.

It’s 10:30 and the first patients are ready to see me now. I see each person twice — first to meet her, review her medical history, revisit her decision to end the pregnancy, and review and confirm that she has completed the state’s required 24-hour waiting period and consent process.

Later in the day I see them for the abortion procedure. For those who request medication abortion, I provide a mifepristone pill and then a bottle of misoprostol to take home.

My youngest patient of the day is 14 and here with her parents. The oldest patient is 41, here with her husband. As on all days, my patients come from every walk of life. Most have children already; many have arranged their appointment so that they’ll be done in time to pick them up after school. They assure me, again, that they are certain about their decision.

By the end of the day, I’ve seen 17 people, and made sure each received the care and time she needed. After counseling, two others left without having an abortion. One decided to continue her pregnancy and become a parent. Another appeared to need more time to think about it, and I encouraged her to do that. I support all of my patients’ decisions and needs; doing so is core to my work.

This was a typical day, and on the way home some of it plays back in my mind. A mother of three crosses herself and then takes the mifepristone pill she requested. Another requests a copy of the ultrasound picture for her memory box. After the abortion procedure, one asks to se e what had been in her uterus and is relieved that the fetus is less than an inch, so much smaller than she had imagined.