But the trend is not restricted to the world of soap: how can we forget the miracle birth of Matthew in Cold Feet?  His evidently amoral mother Rachel was previously pregnant at a time when her relationship was strained and she had slept with her ex-fiancé.  Given the baby's uncertain paternity and her own unsure situation, she chose to abort.  Cue the screeching devils: boy, did Rachel make a mistake.  When she later encounters difficulties in starting a family with Adam, she is understandably astonished at the doctor's announcement that she will never conceive.  Her abortion involved a Dilation and Curettage (D&C) procedure, which somehow damaged her endometrium and left her with scar tissue cementing her womb together: partial Asherman's Syndrome.  Her infertility is a direct result of her decision to terminate.

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Women following these storylines might be shocked at their revelations: we begin to feel angry that nobody ever warns us that abortion can be so risky.  There's a good reason for that: it's not.  Even with around 175,000 procedures carried out every year in Britain, Ann Furedi of the British Pregnancy Advisory Service insists that no research has ever proved that abortion can be damaging to a woman's health.  Before the 1967 Abortion Act, illegal practice and its variable standards might well have resulted in more complications, but this is no longer the case.  80% of abortions are now performed before 12 weeks, using a suction device and no D&C. 

While we might feel cheated that we've never even heard of Asherman's Syndrome and its risks, there is really no reason why we should have done.  David Painton, a leading authority on abortion in Britain, has been in constant practice in the field since the 1950s, and claims to have never once come across the condition.  Yet the makers of Cold Feet felt it appropriate to depart wholeheartedly from the realism of the series and introduce the equivalent of a character who just caught leprosy on the bus.  Without informing their audience of the facts about Asherman's and the relative safety of abortion, this can only be massively irresponsible.  How many women will turn off the TV and research the facts for themselves? 

Given these recent outings of the abortion issue, I cannot help but wonder about their objectives.  Though reasonably subtle in places, such as the case of Natalie, I abhor the universally underlying implication that women should be punished for exercising their legal right.  Still more troubling is the fact that it gestures to a broader social sentiment that this is reasonable, which is reflected in our law.  The legalities surrounding abortion are, even now, complicated: technically, the woman is obliged to argue her case, in order to secure the requisite two doctors' signatures – as if she were trying to bunk off Games for period pains.  In a system that purports to embrace freedom of choice, this is a curious formality: it indicates that a woman cannot be trusted to make her own decision, even in consultation with her GP.  She is forced to submit to the superior institution of medicine.  While there are rarely problems in securing the two signatures, this does beg the question as to why the procedure exists.  It seems to work to profoundly undermine the woman making her decision, echoing the sentiments of the Natalie storyline.

While many doctors are supportive of their patients' wishes, there remains the minority who will refuse to sign the form, and question the patient's motives.  In the Observer in April last year, Nicci Gerard quoted a health professional:

“For some women, there are three reasons to have an abortion: rape, incest and me.”

The implication is plain: the “me” factor is void, selfish and unworthy.  If a woman is coerced into a pregnancy, many deign to agree that she should be allowed to abort, but as soon as the case is simply one of a split condom or slipped cap, she is selfish to insist on her own right to the life of her choosing.  A 2001 MORI poll found that 70% of the public agree that a woman should be allowed to abort if there is evidence of serious foetal physical disabilities, compared with only 50% supporting women who simply do not want a child.  “Me” is just not sufficient: a woman's right to personal subjectivity is consistently undermined.

In a society that is outwardly pro-choice and liberal, such undercurrents of oppression are distinctly sinister: these storylines are presented so as to encourage unthinking absorption of their subtextual insinuations.  They do not encourage active debate through presentation of facts, rather they threaten to bypass the thought process and take hold in our conscience, ready for the day when we might need to make this decision ourselves… and end up feeling strangely guilty about it.