My Almost Abortion

At barely 19, I fell pregnant. I had to make a difficult decision.

Warning: I mention miscarriage, grief, and abortion. It’s not graphic but I can imagine some people may want to avoid references to some of this stuff.

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I squat trembling with my butt over a toilet, barely able to hold my ground. In a matter of seconds the pregnancy test I took lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. Positive, of course. My menses had always come on time so thankfully I was able to become aware of my “condition” in just a week after missing it. That would make me five weeks pregnant. In Tokyo, I had a month to make a decision.

I became a robot. Did I even have feelings? What are they? I put up an interior wall to numb myself from all feelings from shame to fear. I went down my LINE contact list and contacted a few friends, one by one. All were in their late twenties, quite older than I was and their reactions were predictable. “Why didn’t you use protection?” And “No shit, that’s what happens if you have sex with no contraceptives.” The story of how I fell pregnant doesn’t matter—what I remember is my journey of dealing with it.

I pulled my skirt over my butt and waddled out of the cramped Net Cafe bathroom. As I stood in front of the Yamanote line trains I fantasized about leaping in front of one. That would solve all of my problems. Embryo and I, no more. 

My friend Haruka, was the only person who reacted with understanding. “Kanae is pregnant too. We can all go to the clinic together.” Kanae, like me, was 19. At this time Japan still required a man’s consent to obtain an abortion. This was less than a decade ago. 

I asked my off-and-on again failed Actor boyfriend to give his consent. He was hesitant. An American baby and an American wife would give him access to the US actor’s guild via eventual green card status. He stalled on getting these consent papers back to me. 

You can’t just fake a signature, either. You have to use a hanko which is a customized (and verified) stamp with the holder’s name on it. Even if he wasn’t hesitant, I had about a month to muster up the cash ($1k-$2k USD) and the courage (archaic surgical abortion only. No pills). There was a woman, an activist, from some Scandinavian country who would mail you an abortion pill if you lived in a country with limited access to reproductive healthcare. 

Not only was the decision logistically hard to follow through on, but it was also emotionally terrifying — would I be killing my poor baby? I felt like such a failure my whole life but by some miraculous accident, I managed to create life. Maybe I was human after all.

At the time, the GOP insisted that Planned Parenthood sold “baby parts” of aborted embryos. To who? I still don’t know. 

After two weeks of emotional turmoil, I started to bleed. I bled more than I ever had in my life. As I shed dark clumps, out came my baby. Kanae had an abortion.

All throughout Japan(and apparently Taiwan), there are shrines with a bunch of stone babies wearing red hats. Abortion has a long history in Japan and while it’s legal, the practice is inaccessible and not necessarily celebrated. These shrines are places where people can go to deal with post-abortion grief or just the grief of an unborn baby. Every single time I passed one I took a moment to reflect on my experience.

So I’ve never had an abortion, but I almost did. And I may need to have one in the future. I’ve found it troubling to find the words to describe my feelings toward the overturning of Roe V Wade. Being able to delay childbearing via the use of reproductive health stuff has allowed me to pursue things my foremothers could only dream about. 

I didn’t want to center this blog post about myself but rather try to connect my feelings of loss of autonomy to how many of us are feeling. As days go on I feel afraid. Bigotry and hatred seem to cloud many people of all rational thinking. With each passing year, the world feels on fire – I’m not sure if I’m ready to accept it.