I FOUND OUT over the phone from a woman at the University Health Service last month that I was pregnant.

The woman told me that my urine test had been positive, and asked, "Is that good news?" It struck me as a fairly inane question, though she had no way of knowing. "Not extraordinarily," I replied.

My initial reaction was that of course I'd have an abortion, which in fact I did, about a week later.

I have always believed strongly that a woman should have the right to control her reproductive capacity. But being pro-choice doesn't make me anti-life, or even pro-abortion, and with something as immediate and personal as pregnancy there is a world of difference between theory and practice.

It was I who was pregnant, and not some distant feminist or crisis-prone soap opera character. I had to decide whether to have an abortion or bring my fetus to term. For a month I had been feeling moody, physically ill and consistently hungry. Yet there was something very exciting about the realization that I was pregnant, that I was fertile and could conceive; I couldn't help thinking that I could give birth to a baby who would perhaps love its mother very much and grow into a wonderful human being.

However, it was clear to me that childbirth was not a plausible scenario. Neither I nor the father had the means or the real desire to raise a child, nor would I have felt comfortable carrying the fetus to term and giving it up for adoption. So I made an appointment for an abortion at Planned Parenthood.

The decision was basically clear cut, and I was lucky enough to have the support of my parents, the father and a few close friends, and to have my Harvard medical insurance absorb most of the cost. Nonetheless, the situation was, and to a degree continues to be, a great emotional strain.

ALTHOUGH the political and ethical issues surrounding abortion are debated openly, personal abortion anecdotes are in no sense an accepted topic of conversation. I did not feel comfortable talking about the situation with anyone but my closest friends. Constantly having to dissimulate my depressed and vulnerable emotional state only added to my distress. At the time when I most needed my peers to respect me and my moods, I was least able to express that need.

I attempted to continue my academic and extracurricular schedule as usual, but I felt alienated from my peers and unable to function productively. There was something unpleasantly surreal about attending my classes, sitting in the dining hall and doing my homework as usual, while, unbeknownst to almost everyone, undergoing this emotional and physical upheaval. It was very difficult to reconcile the experience of being pregnant and having an abortion with the experience of being a successful, well-adjusted college student.

All heterosexual women who are sexually active run the risk of becoming pregnant, and given the accepted fact that a significant majority of college students are sexually active, it is ridiculous that pregnancy is stigmatized and abortion spoken about behind closed doors.

Students commonly talk, complain or boast about their sex lives. But why is it more acceptable to say, "I had great sex last night," than, "I had great sex last night and now I'm pregnant"? Why should I feel comfortable telling my peers, "I'm in a bad mood because my boyfriend and I don't sleep together any more," but not, "I'm in a bad mood because I'm going to have an abortion"?

OUT-OF-WEDLOCK, teenage pregnancy is associated with the margins of society. Pregnant teenagers are viewed as part of the disenfranchised youth, in league with the drop-outs, the druggies, the shoplifters and the punks. I couldn't avoid feeling that stigma, and at times half believing, however irrationally, that unwanted pregnancy was my just reward for being too loose with my "favors."

Even a liberal atmosphere like Harvard's, where premarital sex is generally accepted behavior, is not receptive to discussion of the results of that behavior. Society remains unwilling to face the negative consequences of its actions, yet it places unwanted pregnancy in a shameful category.

Until editorials like this begin appearing regularly on op-ed pages, nothing will change: The dialogue on abortion will not reflect the experiences of women who have had them, and these women will continue to suffer in silence.