MOSCOW — Physician Marina Chechneva remembers the old-style Russian gynecologists who worked in state hospitals and churned out back-to-back abortions like Soviet factory workers. She remembers the women who "used to use abortion as a kind of vacation, because in the U.S.S.R., they got three days off from work."

These days, Chechneva, who performs abortions as part of her practice and is head researcher of the Moscow region's Institute of Gynecology and Obstetrics, is writing magazine articles about fetus development in hope of raising public opposition to abortion. After years of handling fetuses, she explains, she has come to feel a responsibility toward them.

"They should realize that what they're doing is already a murder," she said.

A fledgling anti-abortion movement is beginning to stir in Russia. Driven by a growing discussion of abortion as a moral issue and, most of all, by a government worried about demographics, doctors and politicians quietly struggle to lower what is believed to be one of the world's highest abortion rates.

"The attitude has changed," said physician Alexander Medvedev, who also performs abortions. "Even in community clinics, doctors are trying to dissuade patients from abortion. Now teenagers come to see us with already two or three abortions, and it's horrible."

It's an uphill struggle. Doctors say contraceptive use remains unpopular, and many Russian women rely on abortion for birth control.

The government is desperate to persuade citizens to bear more children. Russians are dying faster than they're being born, one of the most serious challenges faced by this sprawling, scantily populated land.

The discussion is devoid of terms such as "pro-life" or "pro-choice." From doctors to patients to officials, nobody seems to consider seriously the possibility of outlawing abortion. But the government recently imposed new restrictions on the procedures after the 12th week of pregnancy and toughened the language of a waiver that Russian women must sign before terminating a pregnancy.

Late-term abortions used to be easily accessible on "social" grounds: A woman merely had to visit a social worker, state that she wouldn't be able to raise a child, and she could collect a stamped waiver. These days, exceptions are available only for extreme circumstances, such as the sudden death of a husband or a medical emergency.

In 2007, for the first time in decades, Russia's Federal State Statistics Service counted slightly more live births than abortions in Russia. But doctors warn that those statistics are flawed because of the growing number of women who opt for undocumented abortions in private clinics.

Legal system aside, many gynecologists have launched their own small efforts to persuade patients to go through with their pregnancies. Although Russian law requires parental consent only for girls younger than 16, many doctors boast they involve the parents of any patient younger than 19.

"This is the decision of a lifetime," gynecologist Natalia Smirnova said. "It's very important for me to show them the ultrasound picture of their fetuses. This stops most of them."

Speaking in her private clinic while women in their 20s filled the waiting room outside, Smirnova pointed to pictures of fetuses taped to her office walls and described the conversation she holds with a would-be abortion patient.

"I ask her to please explain to me and give me the reasons why she can't preserve her pregnancy. I'm not satisfied with, 'I'm afraid.' I want to hear the whole story. 'What did the father-to-be tell you? What did your mother say?' There were cases when I myself called her mother in another town. By appealing to her mother, her partner, the future father, you can often succeed in making her change her decision and preserve her pregnancy."

Women interviewed for this article spoke wistfully, even painfully — but with an underlying grain of pragmatism — about the decision to end their pregnancies.

"It's like a conveyor belt," said Irina, a 25-year-old Muscovite who has had three abortions. "Women sit next to the abortion room in a line, and it happens very quickly."

It shouldn't be so casual, Russian lawmakers contend.

But working women, many of whom came of age during the financial mayhem of the 1990s, say they simply can't afford to contemplate childbirth.

"It works like this: The first priority is to get a career, then an apartment, then a car," said Yulia, a 21-year-old secretary at a sewage company. "Then all of a sudden, it's too late to have children, and this is torturing you the whole time.

"I know I have a duty before my country, but I think my duty to myself is stronger. You don't give birth to a child just to continue the line."