Commentary: I’ve never had an abortion, but I’ve had a miscarriage. They're not the same.

Feminist writer Danielle Campoamor penned an article last week on Romper titled, "I'm Miscarrying Right Now, & It's Only Strengthening My Beliefs About Abortion."

In her article, Campoamor admitted to losing four pregnancies — three to miscarriage, and one to abortion.

Campoamor effectively wrote that, in her eyes, a loss to an abortion was no different than a loss to miscarriage.

What’s in her article?

Campoamor wrote the article in the messy, emotional throes of a miscarriage. A natural, unassisted miscarriage can last from hours to weeks.

There is a common misconception that the mom who miscarries is a very different person than the woman who aborts, but I’m here to say there is no difference. I am both of those women. I have had five pregnancies, one live birth, three miscarriages, and one abortion.

She later added that “miscarriage and abortion are sisters.”

Miscarriage and abortion are sisters. Just like my body knew what to do when an abnormal embryo implanted itself in my uterus, my mind knew what to do when a healthy embryo found its way to the soft lining of my uterine wall back when I was 23 years old, in an unhealthy relationship, living paycheck-to-paycheck, unwilling and unable to be a mother. … I do not regret my decision to have an abortion.

Not only does Campoamor not regret her abortion, she said that her most recent miscarriage has only strengthened her beliefs about abortion, but does not seem to offer a concrete reason as to why.

A woman can sit at her desk, 24 hours after losing a very wanted pregnancy, and still advocate for the right for women to abort their pregnancies.

This writer’s perspective

Any woman — or man — who has experienced this type of loss can sympathize with Campoamor.

I had a miscarriage a couple of weeks ago. My first miscarriage. I have two living children; this child would have been my third.

I can viscerally recall the moment the ER doctor told me that my surprise pregnancy was in the process of ending.

“No longer viable,” he said in a monotone, as if he were referring to something I’d planted in my garden in warmer months.

“No longer viable,” he said, as if I didn’t have enough of a down payment to close on a personal loan.

“No longer viable,” he said, as if we were casually discussing the economy.

Leaving, I can recall walking the antiseptic hallways of the hospital, tracing geometric patterns of the floor tile with my eyes as I tried to avoid making eye contact with passers-by.

I left the facility to drive myself home, where I’d have to explain to my husband, two children, and eventually family, close friends, and even acquaintences that there wouldn’t be a new addition to the family.

While Campoamor’s assertion that abortions and miscarriages are both types of loss, they couldn’t be more different in that one is a choice — one is not.

There is a sea of difference between abortion and miscarriage, and suggesting that they are the same — or even related — is hurtful and insensitive to women who have experienced the death of their unborn babies, and not by choice.

Here’s another perspective: the gnawing, dreading, heartbroken feeling that you know you're losing your baby against your will is likely the same thing a baby might feel if they could rationalize that their mother was taking away its right to live.

All unborn babies are of value and deserving of love — not just the ones we want to keep.

At the end of the day, while both can be experienced simultaneously, guilt and grief are not interchangeable emotions.

Campoamor's miscarriage may have strengthened her belief in abortion.

But my miscarriage strengthened my belief in God and His plan, even if it's a plan that I don't understand.