I don't know why, but for some reason this evening I was remembering a conversation with the doctor I went to to find out if I was pregnant the first time, back in 1978. We lived in a college town, Ithaca, NY, at the time.
I went to the doctor and did the pregnancy test. He told me it was positive. Then he asked me, "Was this a planned pregnancy?" I just said, "Yes," but thought that it was kind of a strange question, since it was actually none of his business whether this baby was planned or not. But when I got home I realized he was asking me if I wanted an abortion.
I didn't go back to him for prenatal care.
I also remember going to an expatriate doctor in the Solomon Islands when I was first pregnant with child #3. She started scolding me for having too many children too close together. That really made me mad, since that child too was planned, and it was none of her business even if it weren't. I didn't go back to her for prenatal care either.
Hmm, like I said, I don't know why I was thinking of this ancient history tonight.