A Grain of Rice

By Sophie Olsen-Hennessy CONTRIBUTING WRITER

A year ago I had a medical abortion. It was a pivotal moment in my young life, an experience that was both mentally and physically painful. Over the past year I have talked to many different people and noticed how little they knew about abortions, just like myself before this experience. So, I thought I would share my perspective a year on, to hopefully give people some insight to such a polarising topic, especially after Roe v Wade has been overturned by the US Supreme Court.

I found out that I was pregnant at around the one month mark. From “Doctor Google” I worked out that my foetus was around the size of a grain of rice, or a pomegranate seed. I had my medical abortion at two months. The month of waiting from finding out I was pregnant to actually being in the clinic making my final decision was filled with multiple scans, lots of crying and self reflection.

The myriad of scans determine how far along you are, so you know what form of abortion you’re eligible for, and to make sure you’re not ectopic (meaning the fertilised egg is forming in your fallopian tube, or outside the main cavity of the uterus). Everyone’s experiences are incredibly different, from the circumstance in which they got pregnant, the support systems they have, to the accessibility to healthcare. Although my experience was not a breeze by any means, I was very fortunate to have the accessibility to very gentle and compassionate healthcare, and the unwavering care from my immediate family.

Once I was scheduled into the Epsom Day Unit I had a scan, where I saw my foetus’ heartbeat for the first time. I was then scheduled into a counselling session that I chose to partake in as a part of the service they provide. I then had my first pill, which you take at the clinic. This pill (Mifepristone) is used to terminate the pregnancy and cut off the blood supply and nutrients that get directed to the foetus. This was quite a jarring experience because of how quick and painless it was for something that ultimately is quite traumatic for the body.

The next day was the second part of the medical abortion that I was extremely nervous for. At around 1pm I took 4 Misoprostol pills that I had to let sit and absorb in my cheeks for up to an hour to allow the medication to properly enter my bloodstream. This pill works to soften the cervix and bring on contractions that ultimately force a miscarriage. An hour or two after I took this medication I was throwing up and passing out from the pain.

For someone who has been having periods for the past 13 years I thought I would be prepared in some sense for the pain of the contractions, but I was proven wrong. When I woke up I spent the next few hours making multiple trips to the bathroom to push out blood clots.

Unfortunately I had complications with my abortion. Abortion aftercare involves getting multiple blood tests to make sure your hCG levels are dropping. hCG, or human chorionic gonadotropin, is a hormone produced during pregnancy. Mine wasn't dropping fast enough and I was still experiencing heavy bleeding. So after a trip to my GP and another scan I was told to go straight to the Auckland Hospital’s Women’s Assessment Unit because I was prone to get sepsis. Part of the membrane of the foetus was still attached to my uterus wall which meant I was still supplying a blood flow to it. The plan from my doctors was for me to get a D and C, which is where they scrape the uterus wall to get rid of any ‘leftovers’.

Thankfully, after spending the night in hospital with antibiotics being injected into me every 6 hours or so I was fine to go home the next day. The phantom pain continued for a few months after. I have talked to lots of people in my life since then, especially women, because I feel like it isn’t something that is taught in school or later education, unless you are specifically studying medicine or women’s health.

I thought maybe by spreading awareness it can let men and women know a little bit about why safe sex is truly so important. People have abortions everyday and

I’m so thankful I was living in a country where I was able to get this procedure. I can’t imagine what young women in the States are currently going through where they can’t get free, safe, and local healthcare surrounding abortions.

Even though it was painful and traumatic, I’m so immensely thankful to the Aotearoa healthcare system that provided me with so much care, even post-procedure. Please make sure you use protection and practise safe sex, because that was truly not worth going through. But also be thankful we live in a part of the world where women's health care is taken seriously. Everyone that cared for me at EDU, Auckland Hospital’s Women’s Assessment Unit and my GP, gave me the best care I could have hoped for.

I understand it can be a difficult life decision to make, whether to bring new life into the world. I knew that personally it wasn’t the right time. And from that decision I have been able to find a life partner, move countries, and make plans that might not have been conceivable if I had a young child right now.

I’m not too sure what the point of sharing this was. Maybe more to give people an insight into what it’s really like for women, and the physical toll it takes on us (we are so fucking strong), and also how lucky we are compared to other parts of the world, where women have to go through more troublesome pregnancies, and they deserve all our compassion and where possible the fight for their freedom to choose. There is always more to be said, it is a constant debate, especially from what I’ve seen on social media, which can be a scary place to get information.

Ultimately it is my decision to choose the course of my life and the decision for the grain of rice that had taken up residence in my body for a short two months. I always looked at it like the foetus was still just an extension of me, with no soul yet. It was just getting ready for the potential of life and consciousness. But when I am ready, later in life, I can’t wait to meet the little soul that’s first in line.