Stop Calling My Miscarriage An Abortion

Although I was initially unwilling to speak up about losing my baby, I am compelled to do so after witnessing how the media recently portrayed Jessa Duggar Seewald’s miscarriage as an abortion. I join the conversation now in solidarity with other women who have had similar experiences.

Jessa narrated that she and her husband, Ben, lost their baby over the Christmas period. Her body was unaware that the baby’s heart had stopped; therefore, she had to undergo a commonly used procedure called dilation and curettage (D&C), which is also employed for elective abortions. Her baby had already died through no choice of hers.

Like Jessa, I lost my baby to miscarriage four months ago and needed a D&C to ensure my well-being. However, corporate and social media, as well as individuals I’ve spoken with, insist on calling it an abortion, which leaves me seething with anger and heartbroken.

Since the reversal of Roe v. Wade, I have had enough of the misinformation surrounding abortion and miscarriages. The blatant lies propagated by the media and pro-abortion advocates concerning the realities of abortion are simply mind-boggling.

A Simple Explanation

The narrative that Jessa had an abortion has been profoundly disturbing to me. The medical explanation of abortion is the expulsion of pregnancy tissue, which can happen either spontaneously or intentionally. The colloquial interpretation, on the other hand, is quite different. According to Google’s top search result, abortion is “The deliberate termination of a human pregnancy,” which is precisely what almost everyone means when they claim to have had an abortion.

Yet, the media is now manipulating the term to cover a miscarriage, which is incredibly insulting to those of us who have gone through the anguish of a miscarriage, never choosing to end our baby’s life through abortion.

The word abortion is unpleasant and revolting, causing trauma to many people. It is synonymous with suffering and torture to both the body and the mind.

While I vehemently stand against abortion and the violence that goes with it, I also strongly object to women dying without receiving the crucial medical care they need.

Our Miscarriage

Last fall, my husband and I discovered that we were pregnant after nine months of trying. We loved, prayed, and yearned for our child. The moment we saw our baby’s heartbeat on the screen at six weeks and a half weeks, we were overjoyed. We calculated our due date, planned how to reveal our news to our families, and anticipated all the memories we would make with our child during Thanksgiving and beyond.

During our 10-week appointment with my OB-GYN in early December, instead of more ultrasound pictures, we received every parent’s worst nightmare confirmation: our baby was no longer with us. My husband, doctor, and I frantically searched the screen for any indication of life from our child, but there was none. I went to the hospital for another ultrasound to make sure, praying and sobbing through the entire ordeal. The doctor confirmed our heartbreaking reality: our baby wasn’t coming home in July.

Eight days later, almost three weeks after our child’s passing, I had a D&C procedure because my body still hadn’t processed the pain we had experienced. The procedure is crucial to the well-being of many mothers following a miscarriage.

I would not wish this operation on anyone. I bled for 15 days post-op, and the grief and physical agony made it difficult for me to leave my bed. My medical bills totaled over $18,000. Had my D&C been treated as an abortion, my local abortion facility would have charged me only $800.

While my family and friends supported me through the loss of our baby, Jordan Blake, with immense love and care, the reception was not always the same. When I shared Jordan’s death with others, I was subjected to comparisons with elective abortions, both in-person and online. The insinuation that our child was nothing more than a piece of medical waste caused hurt and wounds. D&Cs performed on stillborn children are not in any way similar to the horrors of abortion, where a child’s life is deliberately taken in the name of convenience and choice.

Although we had the love and support of our family and friends, not everyone is as fortunate. If anyone reading this has experienced the loss of a child and needed a D&C, and it was somehow compared to an abortion, I am very sorry for your loss. Your child is cherished. I commend you on celebrating your child’s life and commiserate with you on your grief.

Our miscarriages were not abortions, and we have not lost the love we have for our children. Our babies will always be a part of us and our families. I did not have an abortion, and Jessa did not have an abortion. We had miscarriages — and to call them anything other than that is an abhorrent weaponization of the semantics of abortion for political purposes.