Addison Roland is an elementary school teacher in Des Moines.

It was late winter of 2005. I had recently moved back to the Chicago area from Seattle, Washington. I was single and an orphan. My parents had died not long ago, and I was still grieving for them, when I found my 39-year-old self pregnant—for the first time!

I always thought I was sterile. I was dating a man whom I did not want to marry, but we both decided to go ahead with the pregnancy. I thought this was a miracle, and just what I need to get myself back into the game of life. I had a big circle of girlfriends and knew they would help me through the pregnancy and being a first-time mom.

There was one major problem: I did not have a job or any income. My so-called boyfriend did not make a livable wage, especially one that would support a family. So I went down to the local health care clinic and signed up for free prenatal care. I think it was connected to Planned Parenthood, but can’t say for sure.

It was an eye-opener for sure. So many women, young women, needing financial help. It made me very humble. For the first time I was experiencing what it was like not to have any means or family to help me with a huge decision I had made.

As the weeks went by, I was getting bigger and feeling good about my choice to have this baby. I had been to several prenatal appointments, and my girlfriends were flooding me with all those books women read when they are pregnant. I was learning a lot and very nervous.

But something didn’t seem right. I wasn’t feeling some of the normal feelings that I was reading about. I was ten or twelve weeks pregnant, but I felt nothing.

I was scheduled to go in for a routine ultrasound. While the nurse was completing the procedure, I just knew something was wrong—it was written all over her face. Then she left the room, left me lying there for what seemed like hours.

When the door opened, a different doctor came in and told me my baby was dead. They were concerned about my age, and the fact that I had not miscarried the fetus.

They gave me a choice. I could go home and wait and see what my body would do, or I could have a D&C. I didn’t even know what that was. They explained that being pregnant for the first time at my age could increase the risk of complications like sepsis (a life-threatening infection).

My body, my choice. That’s what I was deciding. I really didn’t want to go home and wait. That did not feel right for me. So I chose the D&C. The next morning I went to the hospital and had an abortion.

I can’t imagine women not having a choice to have this medical procedure. It’s health care; it’s saving the life of a mother. It’s a choice that should never be taken away.

Editor’s note: Abortion bans in some states are already interfering with routine health care following miscarriages or non-viable pregnancies.

Bleeding Heartland welcomes guest commentaries by Iowans who want to share their abortion stories. Please contact Laura Belin if you are interested in writing, either under your own name or using a pseudonym.

Top photo by Robin Marty, taken outside the U.S. Supreme Court building on January 22, 2016, available via Flickr and published with permission.