This is from a memoir of a childless woman who got pregnant at 39 and had an abortion. The events described take place immediately after the abortion:
When I reached Twenty-First Street, the truck was there, as expected. I ordered my all-time favorite comfort food. Not raw, but still vegan: a Mediterranean platter with a pile of silky hummus, pickled cabbage salad, tabouli, and the most delicious falafel with tahini sauce. I took it home to my cozy backroom office, sat at my desk, and scanned through new emails, while devouring the food. Almost as if I was trying to quickly fill the space that had just been otherwise occupied. Baby out; falafel in, I thought. Then I got back to work.
The Girl with the Duck Tattoo: A Memoir
Of course, after this the woman proceeded to self-destruct in the most egregious ways. You can’t lie to your psyche. It knows when you do violence to it and repays you severely.

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