There is a significant gap of 13 years between my sons. Today I am going to tell you why.

It begins with my older son Erick. It was a difficult pregnancy. I had a partial placental abruption. It was very painful. Erick kept trying to come into the world far too early, and in keeping him alive, I was in and out of the hospital.

He was not a healthy baby. For the first few years of his life, until he was finally diagnosed with an immature esophageal sphincter and put on effective medication, it was a struggle to get enough nutrients in him to keep him alive. So for those years, no one was thinking about more children.

A few year later, when Erick was healthier, I became pregnant again. But before my scheduled two month appointment, it became clear something was wrong. I started spotting heavily. I was sent for an ultrasound. At first, the ultrasound couldn’t locate the fetus. It was already in the process of miscarrying.

It took a second, more invasive ultrasound to locate it. For a moment, I was excited to see it. Then the doctor explained that the baby was already dying. I was told to go home and wait for it to expel.

It was devastating. The waiting took several days, and all I wanted to do was crawl into a dark hole and die with it. Life went on around me, but I did not feel part of it.

The fetus finally passed in the middle of the night. My husband slept through it. He slept through a lot of important moments. Sometimes it was better that way. This was not one of those times.

In the morning, I called the ob-gyn. I spoke to a nurse, and I really don’t remember much of what she said, just that I didn’t like her tone of voice.

I was fortunate, I didn’t need a dilation and curettage. (That’s a fancy phrase for cleaning everything out). It is also a medical term for an abortion.

After the miscarriage, while I healed physically, I did not feel emotionally well for months. More devastating was that my husband emphatically declared that after a difficult pregnancy and a miscarriage, he did not want to try again.

So a few more years passed, and then I became pregnant again. My husband had no enthusiasm about it until James was born, and looked much like my husband did as an infant.

What would I do if I became pregnant again? I don’t know. My marriage is long over. And that is a good thing. Still, single motherhood is hard. Really hard.

With the Supreme Court invalidating Roe vs. Wade, there are going to be a lot more women forced to raise children they weren’t prepared for. I don’t believe that is a good thing. Yes, life is precious. But to call life precious you must be prepared to love and support it for decades. That is not easy, especially if you are poor.

The baby I lost could not survive outside my body. That life cannot exist independently means it was still a part of me. Think about that. I respect others who might disagree. But no one should have another’s personal beliefs imposed on them. That is the stuff of societies we have long considered in opposition to our free one. I think I have said enough.