My first encounter with abortion fervor was in 1975, at the beginning of my residency in obstetrics and gynecology. This was only two years after Roe v. Wade, and most of the faculty and residents had applauded that decision with almost religious zeal. Most considered it a victory of women's health, and there was absolutely no concern for the embryo and fetus.
Out of a house staff of 20 residents, only two of us refused to do abortions. There was great pressure on us to conform, and we had to meet with the chairman to explain our position. We were asked if this was a Catholic thing. It was not, and we countered that it should not matter. This was a personal choice. (I guess "pro-choice" did not apply to non-abortionists.) I explained that I could not be the knight in shining armor, saving the lives of mother and baby, and then don the executioner's black hood for the next encounter. Trying to be both of those people seemed a form of moral schizophrenia.
The pressure on us remained, but perseverance won. Despite implied threats to our employment, we did not have to submit. To this day, after delivering more than 8,000 babies over 40 years, I am proud not to have the black stain of killing fetuses on my immortal soul.