49 Year Old Woman Aborted Twice Because She Didn't Want to Share Her Husband

Rowena, a 49 year old British woman met her husband at the age of 18. They fell in love and tied the knot when they were 21. They both had a no-child agreement,so when she fell pregnant on two occasions, she had abortions because she couldn't bear the thoughts of sharing her husband.She feels mothers often have failed marriages as they put children first and believes the reason for her marriage longevity was because it was devoid of children.

She revealed all in an exclusive interview:

The symptoms were horribly familiar. My period - which normally arrived like clockwork - was very late. Waves of nausea had begun to wash over me. A test taken in the family bathroom confirmed what I’d guessed: I was pregnant.

Yet rather than rejoicing in the news that as a happily married woman of 30 I was expecting a baby, I was devastated.

For the second time in my life I was faced with the question of what I wanted more: a baby or my husband's undivided love. And again, the decision was simple. Ever since I met Roger, I'd known I didn't want to share him with anyone else, not even our child.

That's why both times I have become pregnant during the three decades of our marriage, without hesitation I have had an abortion: once at 21 and then again nine years later. Do I feel guilty? Not at all.

While others might accuse me of callousness and of being selfish and cold-hearted, I have no regrets because I believe the result of those two terminations has been an incredibly happy marriage.

Quite simply, we have enjoyed the most wonderful, loving, adventurous life together, while I've watched friends with children struggle to maintain their marriages, not always successfully. Their problems, in my opinion, have been caused by putting their children first and their husbands second.

I can put my hand on my heart and say I have always put Roger first, as he has with me. I believe we owe our long, fulfilling and deeply affectionate marriage to the fact we chose to remain childless.

The day Roger walked into my life is still so clear in my memory. It was August 1982 and I was a 17-year-old student at secretarial college, riding on a bus into Bournemouth town centre for a night out with my sister.

Roger, an A-level student, bounded aboard and the course of my life changed for ever. Our eyes met fleetingly - his were clear blue - and something turned over in me.

I turned to my sister and said: 'That is the man I am going to marry.'

Roger got off the bus before I had a chance to approach him, but I felt sure that I'd see him again. And when I spotted him two weeks later on Boscombe Pier with his friends, I made a beeline for him.

I invented a party to 'invite' him to, but on the night in question there was, of course, no party.

He arrived at our meeting point and quickly realised it was just us. And that was how we both liked it.

The bond between us was obvious that first night. We had so much in common - we shared the same sense of humour, the same love of Eighties music and fashion, and we didn't stop laughing together. We simply loved being around each other and couldn't bear to be apart.

From that first date, girls' nights out without Roger lost their appeal. I didn't want a separate social life from him because as well as being boyfriend and girlfriend, we were also best friends. We simply didn't need anyone else.

My friends could see I was smitten, but I know many questioned whether I was wise to invest myself so completely in this relationship.

Indeed, I was aware of the burning jealousy that consumed me every time we were apart. I worried that he was so handsome he would be a target for predatory women.

While Roger insisted I could trust him - and he never did anything to make me question him - I found it impossible that others wouldn't find him as irresistible as I did.

We moved in together three months after we met. Hasty? Perhaps. Hastier still was Roger's proposal, soon after, when we were just 18. He bought me an engagement ring after saving up three weeks' worth of wages from his Saturday job at a garage - totalling £45.
I already knew I loved Roger far too much to have children with him and, thankfully, he confessed he didn't want them either. A baby, we agreed, would change the blissful dynamic of our relationship.

However, a few months after our wedding, I discovered I was pregnant. I was horrified: I'd been careful about taking the Pill, but it must have failed. I felt cheated and furious.

That feeling of protective, maternal love people talk about didn't happen. I saw the pregnancy as a mistake, something neither of us wanted. An abortion felt like our only option.

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