A Friend Stopped By | 07/13/2009 12:00 am
How My Decision About a Late-Term Abortion Affected My Marriage, by Alice Eve Cohen

Janet Charles Photography
Editor’s Note: Alice Eve Cohen is the author of What I Thought I Knew, just published by Viking. A solo theater artist and playwright, she is the recipient of a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts, and is a teacher at the New School in New York City.
Ten years ago, Michael and I had an emotional turning point that nearly jeopardized our marriage. I was 44, he was 34, and we were engaged. I was facing the terrifying possibility of a late-term abortion, with one week to decide.
When I was 30, I was diagnosed as infertile. My doctor told me that I could never get pregnant naturally, and strongly cautioned me not to attempt pregnancy with fertility treatment, as I would never be able to carry a baby past six months. So at age 44, when I started to feel sick, my various doctors attributed my ailments to early menopause and other conditions related to aging. Six months, numerous X-rays, CAT scans, prescription hormones and a slew of doctors later, I was raced to an emergency CAT scan for a large abdominal tumor — which turned out not to be a tumor at all. I was six months pregnant.
| I desperately didn't want to have this baby, and I hated myself for not wanting it. |
I’d had no prenatal care, the fetus had been subjected to six months of tests and treatments, which were known to cause birth defects and other injuries, and I had every reason to believe that the baby would suffer further debilitating injury from premature birth. I wanted to terminate the pregnancy, but at 24 weeks, said my doctor, it was too late for an abortion in New York State.
I desperately didn’t want to have this baby, and I hated myself for not wanting it. I had been unhappy before, but I had never thought about killing myself. Now I began to think of suicide as my way out: the only way to end the pregnancy, and the best solution to protect the unborn baby from a life of pain.
Michael came with me to see an abortion specialist. "Since you’re contemplating suicide, you could have an abortion in Kansas, where, if the mother’s life is in danger, an abortion is legal up until the 28th week," he told us. "Seven days from today." At my request, he scheduled an abortion in Wichita for the following Tuesday. "Think about it for the next few days before you decide," he said. Then he turned to Michael. "What do you think about all this?"
"Me? Oh, Jesus … a lot of different things," Michael answered. "I’ve seen Alice in the throes of this terrible unhappiness, and I don’t recognize her. I’ve been politically in favor of choice, but uncommitted on the personal side — it’s been an abstraction. But now that this is suddenly so real, all I can think is that there’s a baby. Our baby. My baby. And I can’t stand the thought of this baby being aborted. So If Alice has an abortion, I won’t go to Wichita with her. And I might not be here when she gets back. I’ll have my own unbearable sorrow about losing this baby, about endorsing this decision. But I don’t want Alice to kill herself. So she should do what she needs to do."
I spent the week wrestling with this impossible decision. On the day before I was scheduled to fly to Wichita, Michael begged me not to have the abortion. "I’ve already decided to have the baby," I said. Michael thanked me and burst into tears.
For the past ten years, this turning point moment in our relationship — Michael acknowledging my right to choose, but telling me he might leave me if I had the abortion — has remained a largely unspoken but crucial shared memory, equal parts rift and bridge between us.























367 Reader Comments (so far…) Sign In or Register to comment
Um, soooo, you’re only allowed to have sex once you’re ready to be a parent? By that logic, sex for the purposes of increasing intimacy with a partner or for pleasure are to be entirely dismissed. What a lonely life for someone who never wants children.
First of all, I think it’s a darned pity that her current doctor ASSUMED the doctor who diagnosed her at age 30 as being infertile was indeed correct. It would seem to me that a prudent and thorough physician would have validated the original infertility diagnosis. After all, it had been 14 years and during that time medical science and diagnostic techniques have mushroomed. Just because it walks like a duck doesn’t mean it quacks.
There’s another important issue here: men’s rights. Should they have any? Should women who don’t want a child be forced to have one simply because the man wants it?
What it says is that before people get it on in the bedroom they’d better have a long talk about "what if."
There’s another side to Men’s Rights here. Should a man who wants his child to be born be forced to give it up simply because the woman decides she didbn’t want it?
Surely it’s not simply a matter of women’s choise always, because though the woman might carry the baby in her womb and thus do most of the work, it took the man’s involvement to create the baby in the first place? I have noticed that a lot of times we women take it for granted that our choises and rights are so important and should be recognized that we fail to consider the men’s right to choose.
That "men’s rights" nonsense has already been tested in the courts by silly teenaged boys trying to force their girlfriends not to abort. No one but the person carrying the fetus has a "right to choose". It’s utter nonsense. The basic human right of security of person cannot by definition extend to a second party. Women are not property, and neither are fetuses. To force ANY woman to carry an unwanted pregnancy to term is called "slavery".
There are men who will rant and rave and scream that every sperm is sacred and that they have the sole right to control every single one of them, but it’s a lie designed to distract from the fact that they feel they have the right to force a woman to risk health problems and potentially even die for the sake of their whims.
Pregnancy is like ham and eggs for breakfast. The hen is involved, but the pig is committed. Never make the assumption that the hen (the man for those that have missed that so far) can tell the pig to go to the slaughterhouse.
Perhaps. But I doubt that the pig in your analogy would have chosen that particular commitment under any circumstances. For most of us, motherhood is not quite so distasteful.
Dear Messy One,
Men do have rights. If a woman and man choose to be intimate than the TWO of them are involved in any outcome. I don’t think we are really in danger of men forcing women to carry to term. In the United States we are a long way from women being treated ast chattel.
The extreme behavior you refer to here (i.e., slavery, sacred sperm…) is certainly not the norm in the USA.
Best, Kate
you are misinformed. a man has no right to control a womans’ body. a female is the only one who controls her body.
but if the woman decides to have the baby, the man has the right and responsibility to assist the mother in pregnancy, birth, and childrearing.
i agree, Deena.
i will never have this issue though. i let my partners know up front that i am not interested and never will have children. there are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. if they dont like it, i know they are not the person for me and would never let the relationship go any further.
but, i am not "most people" and many barely speak to their partners about these kinds of issues. and the ones who are hurt by lack of discussion are the children who are born to people who don’t want anything to do with them.
male or female, i always care for my partners.
but if they want children, or they don’t care if i am opposed to pregnancy and birth for myself, they obviously don’t care for me in the way i deserve.
I’ll agree that being up front is the only way to go. That’s in everyone’s best interests.