We love YOU!

That picture's funny, right? Come on. If you work at a clinic, you totally know WHY that's funny!


Oh, there's soooo much shit going on out there right now, isn't there? Are you getting depressed about it all? I sure as fuck am.

What the HELL is going on in this country, huh?

Well, if you're anything like me, you need a laugh. Especially now. Especially because there are so many damned idiotic politicians making stupid assed comments. (And worse, believing them.)

Because we love you and you're our biggest fan, we want you to take a minute and relax. Yes, that's it. Take a deep breath. Take a moment for yourself.

Relaxed?

Good.

Now. Let's have a little laugh.

This is my favorite. Every time I buy Prego, I think of this:

I used this one back in January, but January was a loonnnnnnng time ago. So here it is again.

Funny, right?


Feel better? At least a little?

OK, GOOD!

Try to have a good day, all ye fellow Abortioneers.

We love you. (It's true!!)

Give yourself a BIG pat on your back. You deserve it. You're AWESOME!

Now.
GO FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT!

Protecting Secrets

I was going to write about something totally different this morning, but Daughter of Wands and Vegan Vagina have me thinking about secrets with the posts they've written this week. We live somewhat double-lives, as DoW mentioned: we give direct service to women seeking abortions, but we all have interests and lives outside abortion work. And like Vegan Vagina shared, we then write for this blog, which means we’re extra secretive because we have to protect our own anonymity from our employer (and co-workers) as well as our co-bloggers’ anonymity.

This blog began so we could discuss how amazing and challenging doing direct service abortion work is. We needed a safe outlet: a place where we could really vent and celebrate. Work isn’t always a safe place to do this, especially if we think improvements could be made in certain areas. There have been times I’ve definitely been nervous at work listening to people talk about our blog. I often worry about getting outted. Even last week, a co-worker talked about one of my own blog entries. I was incredibly scared that I may have blushed and made it obvious it was me who wrote what she was talking about. Why would we care? Because we don’t represent our employer when we write here, and we may not always agree with our employer and we may want to talk about it; some employers would not be happy with this at all. Mine is one of them. And to be totally honest, there are things I still haven’t written about because I’m so scared of being outted! (And this totally pisses me off.)

Being the keeper of secrets for clients, carrying them on our shoulders, in our hearts, will be a job that lasts a lifetime. Even beyond our work with abortion. We know things about some women that perhaps they’ve never told anyone else. We become woven into their stories: their abortion story. And we have a responsibility in that. It’s our responsibility to be kind and to make their stories – their experiences – just a little better. So we are present. We focus on the women. We care for them. We listen, and - hopefully - trust them. And yet, we must be separate and tip toe on this very fine balance…of being a protector: of patients and of self...without becoming cynical and burned-out. It's not always easy.

I try to keep my life outside abortion quiet and peaceful and not filled with abortion stuff…which, let’s face it: is usually not quiet or peaceful. I try to protect my family from my work and clients from the protesters and myself from my employers and you just end up with this spiral of protectiveness and secrecy which can be difficult to unravel.

So, to those who do know our secrets (our dearest of family and dearest of friends who know we write on this blog), we’ve entrusted you with our utmost confidence that you, too, will protect us. And…we thank you for that!

Blegging for a good cause

Hi everyone. I just have a quick request today. Please help me honor the life and work of one of our own.

Ryan Goskie's death earlier this month was a blow to many of us who worked in this field, and I for one am still trying to get my head around the idea that someone with so much energy and heart is just gone and won't be coming back.

His partner let us know that donations are being raised to build a small memorial in Ryan's favorite park. It's no substitute for the man himself, but it will be a nice way to mark his existence in the world. I donated last week and am happy to see the fund has nearly reached its goal, so I hope our readers can be the ones to help push it over the top. Please contribute whatever little bit you can!

You can also donate toward abortion care for a woman who can't afford the whole cost on her own. Consider giving in Ryan's honor to the local fund for Missouri, the state where Ryan worked as a volunteer patient escort, an administrator, and a clinical assistant.

Guest post: Ryan, we miss you already

A few days ago, we all lost a friend and fellow abortioneer. He wasn't "famous" like some of those we've lost recently to violence or to illness, but his commitment and his great heart merit acknowledgement all the same. Today we're joined by a guest writer we'll just call Shiny Specula, someone who knew him personally and wants to speak in his memory. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This week marked another huge loss in the choice community. Ryan Christopher Goskie died Tuesday after being admitted to the hospital with a sudden illness. He was only 25.

Those of you who met or had even heard of Ryan probably knew that he was something of an abortion rock star. Growing up in Granite City, Illinois, he responded to the awful spectacle of the protestors outside the Hope Clinic there by becoming a clinic escort when he was just a high school student. That is where I met Ryan, and I remember being so impressed by his sense of social justice, his energy, and how much fun he was to hang out with at 6:30 on a Saturday morning.

Ryan became a nurse and worked in two different abortion facilities. He went to conferences and rallies and wrote. He made fabulous friends and fell in love. He gave time and energy to organizations that he cared about, and he withstood the attention he received from all the antis who targeted him because he was the proud man who kept coming back to the clinic despite their hate. Ryan did what we do, only he took it to the next level.

I kind of feel like, if you took all the activist energy in me and then multiplied it with all the passion of another abortioneer, you still wouldn’t equal anything the size of Ryan’s contribution to abortion care and choice efforts.

I hadn’t seen Ryan in years, but I always felt like the future of abortion in the U.S. wasn’t in that much peril, not when Ryan was out there. I am so sad that he is gone. It is just impossible to understand.

Abortioneering Parent? Or Soon-to-be-Parent? Or Someday, Might Wanna Be a Parent?

...if you answered yes to any of those questions, you've (hopefully), come to the right post. Those of us who are parents and who are abortioneers have different slants on the realities of direct service work from those of our non-breeding abortioneer friends. What, you ask? For starters, security/safety issues (parents are directly responsible for their little ones so when, say, bomb threats occur or you get threatened by a protester, it gets more complicated. Enter: Mama Bear). Other typical concerns are how NOT to get outted to neighbors, your kids' teachers, the PTA, and so on. Getting outted is no fun for anyone; however, with children, there are additional implications for them (being treated differently by teachers, peers, their coaches).

So, I want to do a twice monthly series called...."The Yummy Mummy's Guide to Abortioneering." Until interest dies off, I'd write about some of these topics that impact us as parenting abortioneers. Any interest? If so, comment to this post, on FB, Twitter, take our poll, whatever. Let me know of any particular issues you'd want me to bring up/discuss.

Let me also just state this disclaimer: though I am a parent, I am by no means pronouncing myself as expert in all things parental. Far from it. I will speak from my own personal experience and bring up topics that I hear other parents talk about and will ask for your thoughts, too! The point is to interact.

Must rush now. It's storytime in this house: The Cat in the Hat is on demand tonight.

Much love!

PS: If you think the Yummy Mummy title is a bit too non-inclusive and have a more inclusive thought for a title, hit me up.

Happy Birthday Abortioneers!

The Abortioneers is 2 years old.

On January 22, 2009, Placenta Sandwich kicked off The Abortioneers blog calling it "A Blog for Justice". The idea was to create a blog by pro-choice advocates truly working on the front lines of abortion - future abortion providers, health educators, clinic escorts, etc. In the field of abortion blogging, we are sorely lacking in those that have first hand knowledge of working in abortion care. I'm not saying that policy folks, journalists, academicians, and other non-clinical abortion rights workers and advocates aren't important to the movement, but people need to hear from those that work daily in abortion care. It's important to hear the truth about what abortion is and means to women.

Over the past two years we have touched on many things including the women we serve, the barriers to abortion care (financial, legal, geographic, etc), and our thoughts and feelings on the ever increasing restrictions. We've discussed how barriers affect women directly and the need for safe, legal, abortion care. We've also discussed how it affects us and our ability to help.

Here's to another year of open discussion of the truth about abortion. No more misconceptions, no more lies from antis, just the truth.

Thanksgetting

I don't do it for the thanks. If I did, there are plenty of days that I might have quit! I've had women shout at me, swear at me, tell me I wasn't a good feminist, I hadn't secured enough financial assistance for them, I didn't answer my phone often enough, I wasn't checking them in fast enough, doing enough, caring enough. When in fact I care really hard and I try really hard. Sometimes I'd hear a coworker have a similar interaction -- maybe just an abrupt goodbye after she phoned to delivered news of a donation toward a patient's abortion costs -- and hang up and mutter, "A little gratitude would be nice." Idunno, I say screw that. Women have a right to choose abortion; I don't have a right to clients' gratitude just for providing their care. It's a matter of social justice that women have access to abortion, and they don't owe me thanks for their rights. They weren't mine to give anyway.

Don't I appreciate a word of thanks from a patient who, by all rights, ought to have her mind on anything but my feelings? Of course--quite a bit. It's wonderful to hear, "You all have been so kind and so professional; thank you for making this so much less stressful and scary than I expected." It's wonderful to get letters that read "This means the world to me. God Bless and may heaven smile upon you guys. Thank you."

But it's the part that comes before it that keeps me doing this work: "Due to my pregnancy I was discriminated against at work, they cut my weekly hours from 40 to 15 and I could barely afford rent, let alone paying for an abortion or even having a baby."
"I'm involved in domestic violence and have had no one to turn to. You have saved my life from eternal abuse and my child from growing up with violent torture."
"This year I earned a sports scholarship to go to college, but when I found out I was pregnant I was afraid I wouldn't even get to graduate high school."
[Excerpted to protect privacy, but these are women's own words.]

Those women don't owe me thanks! We, as a society, owe them all that we can do to reverse workplace injustice, end domestic violence, increase educational opportunities, AND make reproductive freedom a reality. And I thank them: for not giving up, for seeking to make their own life, for being patient with the unfairly long process of seeking a provider, an appointment, the money, the ride, the babysitter, the day off to recuperate.

Thank you, so much, for the compassion and companionship that I hear you offer each other in the waiting rooms and the recovery room.

Thank you for the times I was training and you consented to have me in the room, even though my presence was of no particular use to you that day. Thanks for everything you continue to teach me and my coworkers as we strive to support you and connect you with what you need. In short, thank you for the privilege of being involved in your care -- I will try to earn it.

Burn-out

Thank you to deliverance for joining us again as guest blogger today!

*******************************

I was talking with a co-worker yesterday about our work in abortion care. "We should all work part-time here, and then part-time somewhere else, like…an ice cream shop!"

What a great idea, I thought.

Burnout has gotten me down and it is harder than ever to self-motivate. A sanctuary-type environment where I used to continually stumble upon joyful moments, has become a normal office building with boring tasks.

It's not the absence of all joy or gratification, but those moments have become few *and* far between.

Part of it is repetition--the same stories ("I feel like I am killing."), the same obstacles (poverty), and less patient interaction in my current position.

It's also about money. Recently I called a few clinics to get an idea of how much others charge for abortions. There was a clinic a few states away charging over $600.00 for first trimester abortions. Considering how challenging it is for patients at our clinic to pay for procedures, I can't imagine how difficult it is to come up with twice as much money. Then again, women in that state probably don't have any other option.

According to the National Abortion Federation, women cannot access abortion in 88% of counties in the U.S., and that percentage rises to 97% for women in rural areas (http://www.prochoice.org/about_abortion/facts/access_abortion.html). It doesn't take a genius to figure out why we need people who have a ton of passion and motivation to work in abortion care--this right is, and has been, on the brink of extinction.

I have met and waved goodbye to numerous abortioneers who have flung their entire selves into abortion care, but when it comes down to it (and I really do hate to say it), what we make isn't sustainable. If you want to have a family, go back to school, travel to get away from such stressful work, while also meeting rent, buying groceries, and paying off student loans (a Bachelor's degree is required for many positions at clinics)--good luck.

There is an effort on many of our parts to not only be happy, but to thrive with less--we don't need most of the shit we buy anyway--but fair pay is surely a feminist issue, one which many clinics want to avoid discussing. "Everyone needs a raise," is a reply I've gotten quite often, but I don't think that's so true when looking at wages for administrators and doctors.

Despite all of this, there are still some abortioneers who stick around. They have worked at clinics in the same position for 7 or 8 years, and although many clinics don't have much room for advancement, they hang on because our work can be that important and fulfilling. Some go to medical school to become providers. Others study midwifery, so they can deliver babies as well as provide abortions, in the few states where midwives are able to do such comprehensive care. A few play the game of working their way up to an administrative position.

When I realized I wouldn't be one of those people, I started to make plans to "move on," as people call it (even though I will take this work everywhere with me). I feel guilty for knowing I will one day leave, and resentful for what could've been.

For those of you who stay for the duration of your working life, thank you for being the backbones of our movement. Your amount of commitment and dedication is astounding to me.

All I Need to Know About Life I Learned from Working at an Abortion Clinic

Item #9:
1. It pays to be nice
When I'm taking payments, some clients are a few dollars short. If they've been a pleasure to work with at every step of the process, I comp the difference and send them on their way. But if they've been a pill, a pain, and a pest (as my grandma used to say) to everyone they encountered, I'm going to insist that they go borrow some cash from their driver or else reschedule. You better believe I'm nice to cashiers and sales associates, and I tip super-well.

2. Sometimes, the most important person to forgive and the most difficult person to forgive is yourself
Clients can forgive their ex-boyfriends for poking holes in the condom, they can forgive their sisters for not replacing their last pack of Plan B that was on reserve, and they can be at peace that God will forgive them. But when it comes to forgiving themselves, all bets are off. And when they can finally do it, good things happen.

3. Plato was right: We must "[b]e kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."
Even the obnoxious clients mentioned above in item #1 have their stories to tell. And I don't relish the thought of counseling the woman who declares, "I don't believe in abortion, but I have to do this," but when she tells me why she "has to," it's difficult for my heart not to melt a little bit. And it makes me appreciate all the compassion I've been shown in my life.

4. Listening is a valuable skill to have
Oh, so when you made your appointment, no one told you that you couldn't drive after anesthesia, that you couldn't eat or drink anything the day of your appointment, and that we don't take payment in the form of IOUs? My co-workers and I could give those instructions in our sleep. Just admit you weren't listening. That's why I always carry around a notebook and pen.

5. Maybe we don't know what we REALLY want until we've wanted both things
A friend of mine once told me about her unplanned pregnancy. She knew right off the bat that she was going to have an abortion. Until she saw a glowing pregnant woman. It was only when she really considered both realities, she said, that she could make the most informed and honest decision. She had the abortion.

6. When you miss a period, take a pregnancy test immediately
Don't assume it's a fluke, don't assume your body's being wonky. Especially, don't take a test, see a positive result, and then believe that if you ignore it, it'll go away. That's how you end up to be 25 weeks pregnant. And that's fine, but the procedure could have been quicker and cheaper if you had just taken that first test all those months ago. My co-workers and I sure make use of the free tests at the clinic.

7. You will make a decision when you are meant to make a decision
I learned from a wise, veteran counselor that some women know what their ultimate decision will be, but they don't know how they will arrive at that decision. It can be a long process, and a painful process, but it's a process that needs to happen. I've never had to deal with an unintended pregnancy, but I sure have dealt with tough decisions, and I took my sweet time.

8. A medical history is no place for forgetfulness
nor creative writing
Oops! When you wrote, "No known allergies, no history of major health problems," it turns out that you really meant, "Allergic to every item you will use at this clinic and a history of weekly seizures since birth." Details, details! And my friends, those details are what cause those major complications. I could say, "I'm 5'9" and I've never had any mental health issues," and it sure would be fun to say those things for a change. But that doesn't make them true.

9. Wear what you love
When we schedule your appointment, we suggest wearing comfy clothing since you'll be groggy and crampy. The first time I saw a client step out of the recovery room in 4" platform heels and a mini dress, I doubted the comfort level and practicality, but she rocked it and she was proud of it, and groggy, crampiness be damned. I, on the other hand, will wear hoodies and sweatpants whenever possible, but it's just my personal jam, and no one else's.

10. Some of the best people work in abortion clinics
When clients express nervousness or when they ask if the next person they see will be nice, I sometimes tell them that I honestly work with some of my best friends. And every person in the field that I've met has been amazingly compassionate, passionate, kind, giving, determined, and an absolute champion of women.

Secret Keepers

We don't strap women to tables and violate them. We walk them through a medical process. When I speak to a woman and reassure her that if she wants to keep her pregnancy, then she should, I feel most effective. I know that I can walk women through safe medical procedures. I know that I can answer questions and offer a compassionate ear. When I help a women think and decide to wait a week until her abortion or not to have one I know I do my job well. My job is to help that woman reflect on her own thoughts and life. I do not make any decisions for her, I answer medical and logisitical questions and then I help each woman reflect on what she needs not what I think she needs.

I often feel like my job is to be people's secret keepers. I don't believe you can put a face on who gets abortions. All different kinds of women from all walks of life grace the doors of clinics across the country. As an abortioneer, friends and family members seek information from me consistently.

As an abortioneer I am a secret keeper who helps women reflect on their own lives and needs. People who claim to be radically against abortion might assume or pretend we are evil people who enjoy human suffering. But, really abortioneers every where are the best kind of people. We are people who know how to listen rather than just hear. We are the kind of people who know how to set aside our own judgments and opinions so that someone else can make a decision about their own life.

My New Love: Options Counseling

I have a new found love: options counseling. Who knew? I mean, I've done options counseling for years; but in my experience, it's not that common many women ask for it. Usually, women who call the clinic already know they want an abortion. They've had a few days (weeks, months) to think about it. They're certain. Or they wouldn't call to begin with. (Most of the time.)

Occasionally, however, a woman calls and says she is unsure of her decision and wants to talk to someone. Even so, almost every single person I've spoken to only considered two options: abortion or motherhood. Not adoption. I've never thought it was odd women didn't include adoption in their options; and I assumed for those that adoption was a serious consideration, they'd just call the local Open Adoption agency (like this one) or maybe their church. Not the abortion clinic.

I've recently provided options counseling to two women only considering abortion or adoption. Believe it or not, in my many years as an abortioneer, I had never ever ever talked to a woman who considered adoption (unless she was over the gestational limit for an elective abortion and adoption or giving birth became her only options. But that's different.)! How I've gone so long talking to zero women about adoption (because they've all been like, "Um. Nope! Can't do adoption. No way!") might be strange.

I have no clue what I'd do without Anne Baker's "Abortion and Options Counseling" (here or here) and The Pregnancy Options Workbook. I have to say, though, I have loved.loved.loved.loved this new experience in options counseling where adoption has entered the equation. I feel stretched. I'm learning more. And it's fascinating! Maybe because it's new to me. Regardless, these two women have taught me a lot and I find myself thinking of them regularly. They've reminded why I love - even adore - this work so much. They've reminded me to stop. To pause. In options counseling, you need to get to know the women better. To listen to their hearts, their dreams, their deepest desires. I get an opportunity to do a really good job. To excel at my work. To listen.Listen.Listen. To ask hard questions that maybe others can't ask. To feel honored to be the person to listen. To make a connection with more depth and even get to spend more time with them.

When a woman is right on the cusp between two completely different lives, two completely worlds, it's astonishing. Awesome. Really quite amazing to witness. In all seriousness, when these options counseling sessions take place, I hear in my mind Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken,"
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Frost knew what he was talking about. It's hard to make decisions, to make choices. I think these women are quite incredible and brave. And I truly feel honored to listen to them. Grateful, even. And...on that note, dear Abortioneers...if you haven't yet heard, here's some super duper fab news: The Backline (Options Counseling talkline) is re-opening starting THURSDAY! Check it out here. Congrats, Backline!

Voting with my wallet?

I hate getting my hair cut. I loathe going to the dentist. I dread calling my apartment's maintenance people. I have such disdain for these events partially because they involve coming out as an abortioneer when the stylist breezily asks me what I do, when I hand my insurance card with the clinic name to the dentist's receptionist, and when the maintenance man sees an apartment that's basically a shrine to abortion (a plush smiling uterus hangs from my freezer door and every bookcase is full of abortiony titles). But I've mostly learned to handle those circumstances. What's tricker is gauging how comfortable I am giving my business to people who might end up not to be so abortion-friendly.

One of my dear friends and co-workers once told me that she makes a habit of questioning contractors or proprietors about their attitudes toward choice. If she's giving them money, she reasons, she should know exactly what she's supporting, directly or indirectly. I can get behind that. As funny as it is go to out to brunch with a fellow Abortioneer and say, as we each plunk down a Visa card, "This meal paid for by abortion!", how do we really know that our hard-earned abortion money isn't going to fund a trip to Hobby Lobby (I'm not choosing that store arbitrarily. Hoo boy, are they ever Christian. But I'm also not giving it a link.) to get supplies for fetus porn that will appear outside of my clinic?

I've never been able to bring myself to ask about a business owner's views, though. The closest I got was when I was a friend's wing woman at a party and to ascertain whether she would be going home with the right guy, I blurted out, "Are you pro-choice?" (He was, he was lovely, but she ended up not going home with him.) I manage to surround myself with abortion-loving people and I know (thanks to Facebook) who's in the local choice community. But I think I fall short of the comfort level that would let me question it, point blank. What about you, readers? Have you ever vetted establishments for their worth as allies?

Surely I don't need to be writing this post at all. Right?

"It's time to stop treating us as two equal sides in a reasonable debate. Let's get it clear -- they are the perpetrators and we are the victims. Any discussion of how to de-escalate the situation should take place within the anti- abortion community. "We do not have anything to bring to the table," said Convisser. "We are not willing to say it's O.K. to shoot every sixth doctor or woman."

Recently I attended a conference all about abortion. It was pretty awesome. I met providers of abortion care, advocates for abortion access, researchers of abortion medical protocols -- and even some fellow abortion bloggers!

Speakers included lawyers who prepare court cases defending the right to abortion from encroachment by state legislators; counselors whose experience assisting abortion patients stretches back to before Roe v. Wade; and the women of the Chicago Abortion Fund representing their efforts at grassroots advocacy for patients by patients, which was incredibly cool.

You know who else was there? Security guards, lots of them, and police officers with explosives-sniffing dogs. Not because they were called in to investigate something, just, you know, every day of the conference as a routine precaution. There was a panel staffed by First-Amendment lawyers, criminal prosecutors, and law enforcement experts. It was all about how to respond to violence and harassment against abortion clinic staff and patients, and what threats are and aren't actionable. You could tell some of the abortioneers in attendance were relieved by the rare chance to talk about what they were enduring and to be around others who understood.

Curious what sorts of activities have been documented? Or what threats aren't actionable (or whether it depends on a particular judge's mood on a particular day)? You might be surprised. You'd definitely be disgusted. No matter what your political stripe, I'm pretty sure you think of yourself as a decent person who wouldn't stalk people, threaten harm to their families, kill their pets and destroy their homes and workplaces in order to get what you wanted. You might even go so far as to say, "Hey, that sounds like, um...terrorism?"

Or would you?

Does your movement accept someone who firebombs women's clinics? How about someone who bursts into them with a shotgun and murders whoever he sees first? Someone who conceals explosives underneath an overturned flower pot, maiming a nurse and killing the security guard who stops to straighten it?
Someone who burns down a doctor's house and barn, killing horses and a dog and a cat? Someone who shoots a hero in the fucking face in his fucking church?

How about the people who visit clinic builders' neighbors with photoshopped fetus posters or greet nurses by name at the door of their own homes? The people who park outside my friend's apartment building night after night, or the ones who followed my patient as she drove home from her appointment? The ones who line the sidewalks outside of clinics and jeer, insult, shove, and elbow pregnant women and their partners and their mothers and the people helping them get inside the clinic? Who say creepy but just-vague-enough shit to clinic counselors as they walk in to work, on the phone at work, in the mail at work?

Not the same, you say? They're only expressing their concern and compassion for the innocent? Protected free speech? I wonder what you'll say when yet another one of those "sidewalk counselors" is added to the list of those arrested for harming born, life-living women and men.

I hate that I have to choose between talking about this so that everyone will know, or reassuring my parents and siblings and partner and best friend that I'm fine, my clinic is fine, we have police-caliber security staff and bulletproof glass and a relatively quiet neighborhood populated with relatively friendly businesses. But those ARE the options, because quitting this work is not an option.

I'm fine, my clinic is fine. I just need to: take a different route to work each day, live in a walk-up, never be a homeowner, not shop online, marry a police officer, not have kids or pets, never be famous, not write about my school or my neighborhood or anything about my family, not tell people I meet about this wonderful blog for fear they might connect the dots. You want to talk about common ground? I'm doing lots to meet you there. What are you doing to prevent my murder?

Reserving all the judgment for ourselves

You know that saying: the best-laid plans of mice and men go oft awry? Well, because of our extensive experience with the going-awry, many of us abortioneers have pretty firm ideas of safer sexual practices, and some of us might have a certain trepidation about using anything other than "highly effective contraceptive methods" (see here for a ranked chart of options and explanation of its use in contraceptive counseling). 

At the same time, we all spend our days hearing every version of sexual history under the sun, and recognizing that women are not evil or dumb or fuckups when their practices or situations diverge from our own. We counsel clients about methods that are easier to remember or longer-lasting or invisible to an abusive partner; we brainstorm with them about ways to approach a partner about getting testing for STIs, condom negotiation, and respect for boundaries; we remind them about transmission methods of various infections and how to treat or manage existing diseases. We don't scold or scoff. The words "stupid" and "crazy" and "irresponsible" may exist in the world outside our walls, but not in here. 

But have you ever seen what happens when WE fuck up? 

This weekend I had a crazy, stupid, irresponsible experience: unprotected sex. The first of my life. I've been with my partner for ages, but we hadn't had sex in quite a while, and -- it seems crazy but -- somehow this time protection just slipped my mind. And afterward my partner asked if I had gone back on the pill, because he'd been expecting me to pause for condom-time but then I didn't. OMGWTFBBQ, said I. How can someone spend years and years trying so hard to avoid pregnancy, working in the world of unplanned pregnancy, and devoutly practicing protection habits -- then just FORGET? Needless to say, I was about as embarrassed and irritated at myself as your average patient who sheepishly tells you her story of one night of abandon, or one vomited pill. 

Well, I headed right to my medicine cabinet, looking for the pack of emergency contraception that I obtained nearly four years ago and set aside for just this purpose -- or more likely, I thought, for some friend who had a more unpredictable social life and might find herself unprepared. Ha. What was that I said about best-laid plans? I couldn't find the pack! I've moved three times since I first picked it up, and it must be in a box somewhere. So I texted a couple work friends, thinking they were likely to have a spare too -- but they didn't, and our clinic is closed on Sundays so it wouldn't be a snap to get it for cheap or free. No problem: I'll skip down to the pharmacy and buy it over-the-counter---Holy shit! I forgot the full price was fifty dollars. And my insurance doesn't have any coverage for non-prescription meds. 

It's so weird being one of the hoi polloi, the everywoman who faces everyday obstacles and needs to decide if she can afford to protect herself and has to deal with an awkward pharmacist. And really weird realizing I'm judging myself for being "such a dumbass" when I would never think that about someone else. 

Later that day, I heard from a friend: 

               um, how much do you know about herpes?

               i engaged in some high risk irresponsible behavior last night due to drunkeness

               ughhhhhh

               i feel like i need to kick myself out of my [sexual-health-related occupation]

My god! We all make mistakes sometimes, and here we are feeling like something is deeply wrong with us -- like we don't belong in the profession! -- now that we have joined the ranks of those who "should have known better [but presumably didn't]."

Well, good thing it was my turn to blog, said my friend: 

              write about how we in sex/repro health expect ourselves to be models of responsibility and healthy sexuality

               but get down on ourselves when we slip up

               you can talk about your plan b

               and my herpes!

Well, there you go. Turns out this unpleasant incident was a good reality-check: it only takes a weird moment of forgetfulness and some bad luck to end up in the patient's seat or the pharmacy, and I must have had some unacknowledged belief that I was "too smart" to wind up there, or maybe "too smart" to get a pass on making a mistake. 

I know some of us have had the good fortune (so to speak) of being in a "dumb" situation early on, and having lots of compassion as a result. If you'd like to tell that story, please do so in the comments...and I promise I won't think you're stupid! 

Love Letter to The Abortioneers Everywhere!

I love us, and abortioneers everywhere. This blog makes me feel good about what I do and what I believe in. When I've had a really long day and all I want to do it waste brain cells, it gives me something productive to think about. Then, when I read it I learn about laws, health, medicine, pregnancy, families and a lot more. I learned about one of my favorite spoken-word artists from About a Girl.

It's an outlet for thoughts not all people will necessarily understand, and commits me to writing in the public arena. It's kept me grounded in what I believe. After a short hiatus from abortioneering in my professional life, it's one reason I know I can go back. Abortioneers everywhere, on this blog and others, and those who rarely or never grace the Internet highways, are powerful women and people who make me feel proud and sure.

I went to visit a clinic in the town I'm currently living in. I'm considering a job there. It's a bit of a leap for me because I have not worked in a clinical setting. Most of the work I have done was through funding and even though I spent a lot of time dealing a women seeking abortion, I did not spend days learning the ins and outs of a clinical setting. It would be a whole new experience. It would mean facing the ills of protestors and even worse crazier antis. That part scares me, but I refuse to make a decision not to work in the field based on those fears. The women who run this particular clinic will be a much larger part of my decision than any fears.

Today I shared that I had a really long day. I guess long days happen in every professional setting. For a moment, writing tonight was just one more task I had to get done -- even though there is so much I could write about. Don't worry, I try to write all my ideas down.

Abortioneers almost everywhere seem to understand some very basic part of life that some people just can't get. We know that women are life-giving and thus are sacred. We know that we must trust each other.



P.S. Did I mention that I love us?

Abortioneer Lovin': a MOTA follow-up

"I wonder if he thinks I have the right to reproductive autonomy." 

Hey there. Just popping in on a busy Friday to share a little bit of awesome.

Does anyone remember this entry? I wrote there that I often think that "if I separated from my partner, I'd probably remain single for a long time, because meeting someone who is fun, caring, smart, feminist, anti-racist, and pro-choice and who's a foodie and who doesn't care that I'm always running late (etc etc) can take a long time, and I'd much rather be single than settle for less."

And surely you remember Mr. Banana Grabber's post about meeting a boyfriend's mom for the first time, and several by other co-bloggers mentioning the frustration of first dates and bar flirts always wanting to have "the debate," and how we just can't help ourselves from saying what we do anyway, because how could we not?

Well! A Famous Internet Feminist (Jaclyn Friedman) talks about all this and more in an interview by another Famous Internet Feminist (Amanda Hess), and yet another Famous Internet Feminist (Jill Filipovic) weighs in with lots of stuff I totally sympathize with. I love all these women, and I love that most of what they say sounds so very familiar. I also feel for Jill when she says she'd be OK with not settling down if it required a compromise of values - and wish she didn't say that "maybe something is wrong" with her for it!

Well, how do you feel about it? What are you willing and unwilling to accept in a partner? Would you put up with some sexism but not the anti-choice variety? Are you more likely to fuck them or date them?

Do your answers vary according to whether you are currently abortioneering or simply pro-choice but not in the field? Does your experience vary based on your or a partner's gender identity, sexual orientation or anything else?

And...good luck to those of you with Friday-night dates :)

Using my job

In high school, I really, really wanted to go to the prom, and to me, pretty much the only thing worse than not going at all was going alone. There was this guy I knew, and to him, the only thing better than sliced bread was yours truly, and he made no secret of his crush. I, meanwhile, didn't make much of a secret that his crush wasn't reciprocated. But when prom time came around? You better believe I asked him to go with me. I totally used the poor boy. And if, for some reason, he's reading this, I'm sorry.

But I'm going to confess that I totally use my job. I know that I seem pretty rad and outgoing and great and all on the internet, but in real life (IRL), I'm still rad, but I'm shy. Sometimes, I try to push myself to go out with friends or to reach out and talk to someone at the gym, especially if they've given any sort of clue that they might be a bit of an activist. Without help, my "conversation starters" are along the lines of, "I have a cat!" But with help? "You said you're involved in working against domestic violence? I'd love to hear more about it. I work at Anonymous Clinic and we see a lot of patients who have gone through that." I throw in Anonymous Clinic's name and magically, I'm interesting and engaged and involved and coherent for once.

And I use the powers for good, too, like when my dear, life-long friend casually mentioned, "I picked him up from the airport and we didn't feel like stopping to buy condoms, and the sex was great--" I'm not an interrupter, but I damn well interrupted her and said, "When was this? Was it Saturday night? I can get you a discount on Plan B. We're going to the clinic right now."

But then, there was the infamous housewarming party. I had gone alone and I think the closest any of the other attendees had come to abortion was voting for Obama. I'm not sure how it happened, but I started talking about abortion. And the clinic. It just sort of came out like abortion Tourette's Syndrome, if we're being politically incorrect. Before I knew it, I was regaling this crowd with descriptions of the procedure and explaining why "partial birth abortion" is a myth. Who knows what kind of eye rolling there was after I left, but boy, howdy, was I the center of attention for a hot second.

The event that reminded me of this habit of mine was running into my neighbor last week. She's a lovely person, but she is a chatty person, and clearly, I'm not. I'd never really talked with her before, which didn't stop her, and I was trapped for a good 15 minutes, sweating and fidgeting and trying to act like a normal person and have a normal conversation. And then, she asked what I do for a living. I could have said I worked in healthcare, and left it at that. But my desperation was such and my palms were so sweaty that I volunteered, "I work at an abortion clinic. Yup." The reason for this was that I hoped a tiny bit, for once in my life, that she was an anti and that she would have disdain for me that she would just stop talking and let me go inside my apartment. Of course, she was unfazed, and of course, she followed it up with the dreaded, "I just don't think abortion should be used as birth control." And there I was dealing with the most uncomfortable amalgamation of a lecture fraught with social justice, social anxiety, and general anger. And I still wasn't inside my apartment where I wanted to be.

So, yes, dear reader, I use my job. But I will tell you this: I would absolutely ask my job to the prom, and not just because I would need a date. I would ask it because I totally have a mad crush on my job.

Nurturing Self

Do any of the following sound familiar to you?

• Skipping breakfast to get to work on time (after oversleeping because so tired)
• Skipping lunch (too much to do, have to help that one client who needs extra help)
• Getting home, very hungry, and thus overeating after not having breakfast or lunch
• Spending a bit of extra time with that bottle of wine (or two or three…)
• Needing extra cigarettes to get through the stressful day
• Not going pee because you’re too busy seeing/talking to clients
• Not taking breaks
• Dreaming about work
• Talking about work a lot
• Difficulty relaxing in the evening
• Taking work home

If you answered yes to….well…any of these, then it might be helpful to take a look at your work/life balance. (Okay. I’m one to talk: I recently gave a patient my cell number and spent time on the phone with her outside regular work hours and I rarely take lunch.) It can be hard to strike a balance between life and work when your primary function is to take care of other people and often even put their needs before your own. This can be especially challenging when we work in a sometimes hostile environment (say, external hostility from protesters), and it can be super hard to explain our jobs to people in our lives. “How was your day?” is such a benign question, but I often ask myself, “Seriously? You really want to open THAT can of worms and know how my day REALLY was?”

Maybe you feel similarly from time to time. Here are some things that have helped me, and things I know that have helped others, too:

• Eat breakfast. Seriously. It really does help!
• Drink coffee!
• Take your breaks and your lunches, even if it seems impossible to do so. Take them.
• Have interests and hobbies outside work and indulge in them. Write, read, hike, run, go to the gym, play music, spend time with your friends, your children.
• Have something at home, after work, that is really important to you to focus on that is completely non-work related (I think this is easier for parents, as often their children can be the distraction).
• Spend personal time doing non-abortiony things! Really!
• Have friends from Abortionland so they can understand you.
• Have friends outside Abortionland so you don’t have to talk about Abortionland all the time.
• Shop.
• Go on holiday.
• Go to movies.
• Take a day off. And do something fun.
• Get rest.
• And sometimes, indulge in a few bottles of wine, or a few margaritas with your Abortionland friends.
• Cry.
• Take long baths.

Basically, just remember you, when you’re in the middle of remembering everyone else. Nurture yourself. Personally, I'd like to be right here. Any other suggestions?

Holy Smokes!

We were so busy enjoying the 37^th anniversary of Roe v. Wade we (1) forgot to write about it and (2) forgot to celebrate our own birthday!

It’s true! The blog of the Abortioneers is one year old! 234 posts later, we are doing better than ever.

We cannot thank you all enough for your support and kind comments -- on the blog, via Twitter and Facebook, and in-person from our loved ones and even people who don't know that we are the writers.

We use this space to share our experiences and tell our stories. We are so proud to hear that our readers find this blog useful, comforting, and supportive.

Thanks for reading and sharing. Abortioneers do such incredible work every day all over the world. The work is not always appreciated, but it is always important.

Thank you again, and here's to another year!

We're All Just Bitches, Right?

I don’t get it. I don’t get all the stigma and myths surrounding women who have abortions. It is crazy to me that in 2010, people still go around acting like the one in four American women who have/will have an abortion are selfish whores who are totally irresponsible. It frustrates me even more when the women who seek abortion care slap themselves across their own faces with these horrible stereotypes that are just plain false.

Equally, I am really getting annoyed with all the stereotypes people have about Abortioneers. We must be cold, heartless child/man/woman/baby hating bitches to do this work. None of us have kids: by choice, as we hate them. We’re all man-hating lesbians. And we’re super mean and will force a woman to have an abortion. Seriously?

Every single day I talk to women who are shocked to find we’re, in fact, nice. Every single day, I talk to women who are shocked to find many of us are parents or at least have children in their lives on some level. I also happen to work with at least four grandmothers. I love it when we have a staff member who gets pregnant. I feel like with one glance, as she opens the door to the waiting room, a clipboard resting on her swollen belly, she sweeps away hundreds of myths about us. I’ll never forget when our female Ob/Gyn was heavily pregnant, performing abortions. The patients were surprised and I feel her belly shouted something profound about who she was and what she believed about choices and all women. Oh, how I admired her for that. Her own wanted, loved pregnancy challenged women to understand that as Abortioneers, we respect all choices, for all women, in all stages of their lives: so how would we ever try to make her have an abortion, or make her continue a pregnancy, or make her do anything?

I wish I knew where some of these stereotypes came from. Maybe some of them are just stereotypes for feminists. Oh, and regarding sexuality: really, who cares? But if others must know, I happen to work with people from many different sexual orientations: that doesn’t even matter though. I also happen to have worked with people from many different religious orientations and spiritual backgrounds, including non-spiritual and non-religious backgrounds. Again: it doesn’t matter.

This does matter: Abortioneers are nice. And we give a shit. And we work hard with very little recognition. And I hope that you hold your head high. I hope you shout - loudly, or quietly - all the many profound things about choices and women and life and complexity and beauty that surrounds you each day; because you’re not a cold, heartless bitch. Rather, you’re quite astounding.