I’m 70 years old now and I’m looking back on my experience of having an abortion 50 years ago — in 1970, three years before Roe v. Wade. I had recently left home, estranged from my family, supporting myself, working as a long distance telephone operator and taking college classes. One week I felt sick and thought I had the flu, so after several days with no improvement, I went to the student health center. Unbeknownst to me, they did a pregnancy test and a few days later a nurse called me and told me that it was positive.

I was in shock, total disbelief that this could be happening to me. We had little to no sex education back in those days, and what I knew about sex was based on what I could find to read in the library and what people had told me. I was devastated and panicky when I got the news. I was living alone, barely able to take care of myself. There was no way I could possibly go through with a pregnancy and support someone else. When I got a grip on the reality of the situation, I realized that the only way forward for me was terminating the pregnancy. I couldn’t imagine anything else.

Since abortion was illegal at that time, I had to find someone connected with the underground.

Since abortion was illegal at that time, I had to find someone connected with the underground. Luckily, I met a guy at a party who was able to set it up for me. He knew someone else who could arrange for the procedure if I could come up with $400. After a couple of weeks of high anxiety while scraping the money together, he made the arrangements and picked me up late one night along with another man. They drove me out to a run down motel in the middle of nowhere. I had no idea where we were. It was pitch black dark and I was scared to death, but I was determined to do what I needed to do. They took me into a room where a man was waiting for us. He called himself a doctor, but I had no idea whether he was really a doctor. I simply had to trust him and hope he knew what he was doing.

After the procedure was over and I had recovered, I went on with my chaotic life. Mentally, it was a huge relief. I didn’t look back much at the time, because I knew I had done the right thing. I was just glad it was over.

Elizabeth, 35

I’m a queer Mexican immigrant woman, who migrated to the US with my two parents when I was 4. I have had two abortions in my lifetime. One when I was 21, and another at age 32. Both instances were quite different for a number of factors: employment, insurance, money, relationship status, state, and of course age.

My first abortion quite literally changed my life for the better. That day I became an activist. I was pissed about how hard it was for me to seek this regular health care procedure because my state legislators think they get a say over my private health care decisions. Mostly, I was and still am hurt and angered by the stigma that we throw at pregnant people deciding to end a pregnancy. Most importantly though, I learned how to show up for people seeking care. I knew I wanted to be that soft place to land for someone seeking abortion.

Emily, 26

I had an abortion when I was 19, during my sophomore year of college. I was on the pill but I still got pregnant —I wasn't taking it exactly as directed. In any case, as soon as I found out I was pregnant I knew I wanted an abortion, it just took a long time for me to reconcile myself with that decision. It was very difficult to do so as a lower-class woman in a conservative state. I had to drain my savings account to obtain my abortion, and had to travel an hour just to obtain it, and had to deal with everyone around me in my town being very very against abortions—our local Catholic school takes its students to March for Life every year, so it was obviously a hostile environment to have to make this decision in. I was very lucky to have the support of my parents throughout the process, but my ex boyfriend was very unsupportive and so were many of the people who I thought were my friends.