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Conversations Around
Abortion
The subject of abortion
makes people uncomfortable - there is a taboo in talking about it.
Abortion has become an accepted
way of dealing with an unplanned pregnancy yet there is still much secrecy, stigma
and shame surrounding it. Abortion loss or trauma is not well recognised nor widely
acknowledged and those affected by an abortion often feel silenced.
Conversations around abortion are often heated, defensive and divisive, leading
to moral debate or argued as a human rights issue. Extremes of bias are limiting
and unhelpful in having open conversations around abortion. Whilst people are fighting
to maintain a “position” they are unable to engage in actual conversation around
abortion.
Systems and processes within health services which are largely geared towards abortion
can constrain conversations needed for fully informed choice. Often risk factors
for negative abortion reactions are discounted or minimised, if considered at all.
In churches and some helping agencies people may impose beliefs and humiliate and
judge those involved in abortions.
Conversations around abortion aren’t generally favoured around the dinner table
or at parties or other social settings. Some people may admit their abortions as
a matter of course and say they weren’t a big deal or even encourage others to follow
suit. But often the deeper human and relational issues experienced by others are
not discussed. It seems it is better to not talk about such disturbing matters as
it can make people uncomfortable or it may offend.
The post abortive parent may have trouble discussing what is happening for them
with those who supported their decision for fear of causing offence or upset, or
being told “There’s nothing to grieve” or “It’s over, just get on with your life
now”. They may feel isolated and alienated and not be able to share the reality
of their experiences with others for fear of condemnation. Or they may not even
associate what they are now experiencing with the abortion. It may only be sometimes
years or decades later that they can view it, and work out what it has meant for
them and their lives. Sometimes too there can be cultural barriers or issues around
the subject of abortion and it’s not talked about. How and where are people able
to talk about it in a society that fails to acknowledge the reality and possible
impacts and effects?
People frame up abortion in many different ways but if we are to respond appropriately
to those who are grieving, struggling or traumatised by their abortions it needs
to be looked at for what it is. Abortion is part of the spectrum of pregnancy and
baby loss. The inherent loss and trauma in terminating a pregnancy for whatever
reason and at whatever stage is often ignored, minimised or negated. Negative abortion
reactions are poorly understood and often unanticipated but are very real when they
occur. Abortion as a life-death event has the propensity to change people whether
they realise it or not.
With around 18,000 women having abortions each year in NZ it is a subject we need
to be talking about in every sphere of society. As long as society and those working
in health and welfare circles fail to address the hidden but real impacts of abortion
we won’t be able to have conversations around abortion that honour and support those
affected. In our experience it can be incredibly hard for people to come forward
and talk about their experiences and effects for them. This needs to change.
P.A.T.H.S. creates a safe place for anyone affected by abortion to express themselves
and be supported. We understand that the process of healing after an abortion is
a journey through many mixed emotions and there may be conflicts that need to be
resolved. Our team are skilled and caring. We are there to listen to those who are
hurting or struggling after abortion – mothers, fathers, grandparents, siblings.
We can provide information, training and opportunities for those involved in pregnancy
decisions and abortion processes, or anyone interested in post abortion matters,
who may wish to explore the issues and have a conversation.
By Carolina Gnad
P.A.T.H.S. Research Project
- Literature Review
Impact of past abortion
on experiences on subsequent pregnancies, birth and post partum experiences. Evidence
to date.
We are currently undertaking
a Literature Review which we hope will be of interest and stimulate discussion particularly
in the professional health and welfare sector.
In the course of our work, and that of others around the country, working in the
post abortion area, we have noticed various recurring issues. For example, we’ve
heard about and wonder about: women with a past abortion who then suffer a miscarriage;
concerns and issues around fertility following an abortion; anxiety in subsequent
pregnancy and around birthing; difficulties and issues with attachment and parenting
with subsequent children; and, the possible correlation between and incidence of
post natal depression (PND) in women with a past abortion. From this we became curious
and are looking to see what evidence there is to date in the research and literature.
We also want to highlight the difficulties with and limits of research in the post
abortion area and identify where there may be gaps.
This is a new endeavour for us. We are fortunate to have a team who are willing
to engage in the project and trawl through material - currently there is Jayne Gormley,
Colleen Carr, Henrietta Trip and Carolina Gnad. We have two referees who are guiding
and supporting us - Dr Nimisha Waller (Senior Lecturer Midwifery AUT) and Bob Manthei
(Professor (retired) Counsellor Education, University of Canterbury and experienced
researcher).
Sadly we failed to get funding from the Families Commission and will attempt to
seek funding elsewhere (if anyone has experience with funding for research we would
appreciate talking with you).
It is hoped doing this Literature Review will give us a platform to better dialogue
with health and welfare professionals and be able to encourage further research
in significant areas.
My “Miscarriage” of justice
and dignity
Lack of dignity. Lack
of respect. Total lack of acknowledgement of religious belief.
On the 22nd September
2003 I lost my baby.
The registrar told me she
was going to partake in a procedure - dilate and curette “the products of conception”.
I will never, ever, forget that inhumane, disrespectful, absolute denial of life
phrase, which was repeatedly used during my meeting as I was miscarrying my fifth
baby.
That weekend a friend turned forty, great celebrations were had. Meanwhile I hid
behind a façade and gracefully declined attending with a white lie. I had a little
bleeding for days, but because I had spotting on my first child I hadn’t panicked.
But I should’ve been more worried… I didn’t realize at the time I was losing my
5th baby.
I sincerely believe my unborn child was a gift, as is every single child. However
to be honest, initially in the first three weeks of her short life I didn’t want
a fifth child. The reason being I have Bi-Polar Affective Disorder or Manic Depression.
My experiences of motherhood have been accompanied by increasingly severe mental
illness. I have had repeated depressions after my children and after my fourth child
Post-Natal Psychosis just 4 weeks after her birth. Living overseas at the time without
family support, it was an incredibly difficult and frightening experience to get
ill so quickly after birth.
So I feared the reality of facing another psychosis, it was pretty much guaranteed
according to my psychiatrist. Additionally I feared facing the depression that seems
to slither into my mind and envelope me with constant negative thoughts. It is only
recently when I have become unwell once again, that through some gentle words from
Carolina that I have realized I haven’t fully grieved for my fifth child. I told
very few people about the baby. Despite being a Catholic, I worried about the judgment
of others and the ignorant comments and jokes which were bound to come my way.
The reality is that my D&C was an awful, negative experience from start to finish.
During my meeting with the registrar I continually corrected her by using the word
“baby” as she said “products of conception”. Consequently I was wound up even before
the surgery. We discussed histology and how the hospitals like to analyze the “remains
of the foetus to examine and investigate why the foetus didn’t survive” (her words).
In Psalm 139 it is written “You created my innermost being, you knit me together
in my mother’s womb”. Obviously this young registrar was unaware of this beautiful
acknowledgement of life. I told her that I wanted to have some remains of the baby
to bury. But for some reason she wanted to debate this request too. She informed
me that there would be little remains left. I felt she was unsympathetic, insensitive
and did not even understand my viewpoint. I stood my ground and didn’t back down
as this was my child and it was important to me. Once my husband supported my request
she finally gave in and wrote it on the form. I found the meeting emotionally distressing
and draining, did she not see we ticked Catholic as our religion on the form?
As I was wheeled up to surgery, the two nurses were busy having a conversation and
laughing about some topic completely unrelated to me. I recall it was something
to do with their social lives. They hardly acknowledged I was there. I felt completely
invisible, just another number, a part of the system, all in a day’s work. Wheel
them in, wheel them out!!
As I lay in the theatre and waited, I took in the sterile environment surrounding
me. I felt a bit anxious and awkward knowing complete strangers were going to do
an internal procedure on me. I certainly wouldn’t have wished this on myself. Then
the anesthetist who was warm and friendly put the medication into my arm. I recall
the words “Think of an island like Fiji” I remember my last thoughts being what
a bloody stupid thing to say! I’m losing my baby.
Later in the recovery room I couldn’t stop crying. Having never had a general anesthetic
I didn’t know if it was a reaction to the drug or to the trauma of the experience.
But the point is I lay there quietly crying and the nurse overseeing myself and
two others didn’t even come over. The touch of empathy of another can say so much.
I felt fragile, disappointed and abandoned. Thankfully later when I returned to
the ward my husband was there to provide me with support. But even then the nurse
kept saying how many children do you have? I answered four, and she said you will
be right….Those words completely failed to acknowledge the little unique child I
had just lost. I bled for almost five hours despite being told I should only bleed
for two. It was then I began to get some sympathy.
My heart belonged to my baby, though she was a part of me for a very short time.
I had turned my mind around to wanting her by the seventh week. So when I miscarried
her at ten and a half weeks I felt empty, guilty and full of sorrow.
It is so strange how you can walk around in public and hide such personal pain.
I am a bit of an actress and only cried when I was alone. I named her Leisha, after
a song by Michael W. Smith. I always remember the 22nd of September. Only God knows
the reason why she was taken away. I have had to learn to accept her loss. I buried
her beneath a statue given to me by my aunty and cousin who have both experienced
miscarriages. She lies beneath the statue, under our beautiful Magnolia tree at
home. When it bursts forth into its majestic purple colour in the Springtime …….I
remember her.
Meg wrote this story a while back now – it seems timely to share it. It reflects
how the attitudes and approach of health care professionals can affect the experiences
of those who suffer a pregnancy-baby loss. We often hear how the reality of pregnancy-baby
losses such as miscarriage and abortion are minimized or discounted leaving those
grieving and hurting to suffer alone. People who have experienced any pregnancy
baby loss often share how people and society have the expectation that it is ultimately
not a big deal and you just have to get over it and get on or that at some point
you can replace the child you lost. In Meg’s case it seemed well you have four children
already and that’s enough or it means you won’t miss this one as much?! For some
people it is not that simple and they journey through a whole range of emotions
over time and have to work through complex issues. Any pregnancy-baby loss can impact
a woman or family hugely and is rarely forgotten.
Real Stories - “I had
a termination” (RAJ)
If anyone had told me when
I was in my twenties that this would be how my life would be, then I honestly think
I would have ended it long ago. It’s been too hard, way too hard and the rewards
at this end of it simply aren’t there.
I ‘got into trouble’ as an 18 year old, back in the days when you had to go to Australia
for an abortion. Of course I had no money so my parents arranged for the family
doctor to make a referral to a clinic in Sydney and my mother came with me. I don’t
remember much about it, except that my mother went and bought a whole lot of clothes
that she never wore and we came home again after a few days.
The sense of shame and guilt from that time was horrible and I remember thinking
that I would do anything or sign anything so that people like my parents never had
to go through anything like that again. I was all for abortion being legalised in
NZ and the sooner the better as far as I was concerned. There’s no way around it
though. When you have had that experience that young, it definitely leaves a mark.
Over the years, I have been active in all sorts of issues, committees and political
causes. I’ve been married twice and have natural children and two stepchildren and
now have two grandchildren. I have a close circle of friends but none of them really
knows what I’ve been through and it is way too late to start telling them now.
I have had a number of health issues; hence the causes and committees, but the most
damaging are the lapses into depression and alcohol abuse. I know it’s going to
happen again but there seems to be no way of avoiding it.
As I have grown older, I am somehow becoming more and more irrelevant to my children
and their lives. They seem to be the generation that knows it all and they are having
children that have it all. They love me but they don’t like me; they are frightened
that they’ll have to support me as well as worry about themselves in later years.
I worry for them too. I can accept that with a couple of marriages behind me, I
have some baggage when it comes to family, but they each seem to be building their
lives like a series of fortresses, keeping themselves apart from the smell and mess
of real life.
I worry for their children and ironically, given my own history, for the children
they won’t have. To be able to look out on a rich, full and varied life is a wonderful
thing, but if no one is looking back at you, then it’s all for nothing.
All my life I have been ashamed of the grief that I brought my parents and I have
tried to fix it by making the world a different place. They are both long gone and
I no longer have the opportunity to talk to them as a damaged adult, rather than
a damaged teenager that I’ve been all my life. It saddens me to realise that all
they really wanted was my love.
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P.A.T.H.S.
Newsletter Excerpts - 2010
