I was 21-years-old, in college, in my first long-term relationship and working part-time at a corporate book store when the condom broke. Having a baby was not a possibility as I was in debt, had no health insurance (this was before you could stay on your parents' policy). Neither I, nor my partner at the time wanted a kid, so we made the decision together to not.

I was only 14 when I had an abortion. I hated myself for a very long time afterwards, because that's what society says is the appropriate feeling to have after an abortion.

The first time, I was 18, a freshman in college, and should've known better. I was a smart girl. But my erratic (and oftentimes absent) periods made me think I was safe. When I found out I was pregnant, my sophomore boyfriend helped me find a clinic, paid for the procedure, and stayed with me.

I had my first abortion when I was 19, in a good relationship with someone I loved. The condom broke, and I knew as soon as I saw the positive pregnancy test (that I took in a public bathroom at the mall because I didn't want anyone to know) that I would not carry to term.

I was a young, nineteen year old girl from a privileged family brought up in a suburb of New York. My parents took me to Santa Domingo to have my illegal abortion.

I was living with a drug dealer who didn't like me using my diaphragm because it "broke the mood"; he didn't like waiting for me to put it in.