I came across the Hope Clinic in Fallbrook, California, and saw some information on its website about abortion pill reversal (APR), which uses progesterone to reverse the effects of the first chemical abortion drug, mifepristone. I knew I had a 24-hour window before it was too late, so I rushed to Hope Clinic the next day. The women at the clinic were so supportive and loving that I quickly felt at ease. When they gave me the ultrasound, I began sobbing. My baby was OK! My surprise quickly turned to excitement and joy, and mentally I began planning what was next. Now that I knew she was OK, I would do anything to preserve my precious baby’s life. 

When I first heard that abortion pill reversal (APR) was controversial, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that states like Colorado are fighting to prevent mothers and fathers from learning about, much less using, something that could save their unborn children. I know better than anyone because APR saved my daughter’s life.  

Just over a year ago, I was stuck in a toxic, abusive relationship with my boyfriend of five years whom I thought I was going to marry. Then I discovered I was pregnant. 

My boyfriend pressured me to have an abortion, so in fear, I went to the local Planned Parenthood to learn about my options. I was almost eight weeks along, and I really wanted to keep my baby. 

The entire experience at Planned Parenthood worsened my fears. The clinic staffers said chemical abortion was my best bet because of how far along I was. For those who don’t know, chemical abortion involves a two-drug regimen. The first drug, mifepristone, essentially starves the unborn baby of nutrients, and the second drug, misoprostol, helps expel the deceased unborn baby from the womb.   

My anxiety was heightened when the clinic staffers told me that once I took the first pill, there was nothing in the world I could do to reverse the chemical abortion. Even though I had tears in my eyes, they didn’t bother to ask if I even wanted more time to consider the pill.

They monitored me as I took the pill, and then they sent me on my way. I spent that entire night crying without any support from my boyfriend. The Planned Parenthood staffers’ warning that there was nothing I could do to reverse my decision haunted me, yet deep down I had a glimmer of hope. What if they were wrong? What if the pill didn’t work right away and there were other resources out there for me?

I began researching my options and looking up places with family members that offered ultrasounds to see what, if anything, the first pill had done to my unborn daughter.

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