Nurturing Choice

I've heard the argument for parental notification/consent laws that reasons, "Why shouldn't the parent be involved in the daughter's life and decisions and choices?" It sounds so innocuous and Norman Rockwellian when it's stated like that, but we Abortioneers all know that sometimes it's more like, "This girl is going to be beaten into next week and into the foster care system and into teenage parenthood if lawmakers require consent/notification."

But laws and barriers to reproductive justice aside, I wanted to give a shout out to the parents of all abortion patients (not just minors) who are so involved and so loving. I've always known that if I had an abortion, my mom would be my first choice as a driver/support person. Even when I was in a long-term relationship, I would have chosen her. Above anyone else, I would want her comfort and humor and company. And I have absolutely no doubt that even if it meant taking a day off from work and driving a few hours to my city, she would be there for me.

My friend had an abortion a few years ago, and she came to my clinic with her mom in tow. She, too, had a partner, and she was well above 18, but her mom was her first choice. I could tell her mom was glad to be at her side, but it wasn't easy for her. I knew from past conversations that my friend's mom was pro-choice, and she had even had an abortion and a D&C (for miscarriage management) herself, but that day was hard for her. Although I was friends with the mom, too, I didn't delve into it, but I can only assume that her tears were from memories of her experiences or from the fierce desire to protect her daughter. But whatever baggage she carried, she was at her daughter's side, trying not to cry and trying to make the day about her adult child.

I also remember fathers of clients who were or were not required to accompany their daughters to the clinic, but who were obviously distraught. They weren't distraught because their daughters were killing their grandchildren (anti-choice rhetoric, right there), but because their daughters were faced with their first major adult decisions or because it was the first time their adult daughters had come to them for help or support. They didn't have to say what was running through their minds, but it was evident from the way they softly asked me, "How is she doing?" or implored, "Take good care of her." More than one burly man had tears in his eyes.

I've also seen a mother who accompanied her very young daughter to the clinic and whose boyfriend was responsible for the pregnancy, unbeknownst (until now) to the mother. In another case, the mother's son had brokered the rape of her daughter, also unbeknownst to the mom. Both mothers were clearly heartbroken over the complexities of the situations, as well as the implications of blame that they shouldered. In each of those cases, I made it a point to take the mothers aside and hug them and whisper simply, "You're a good mom."

Thank you, endlessly, to all of the good parents who support their daughters who chose abortion or who chose parenthood or who chose adoption. And thank you to all the parents who chose abortion, parenting, or adoption in order to give better lives to their daughters and sons.

Some details of each of these stories have been changed in order to protect client privacy.

Plug for a fellow blogger: more on fathers

Sparky's had an unexpected travel-related contretemps these past couple of days, but that doesn't mean the pro-choice summer reading stops! I urge you to visit Every Saturday Morning, the blog of a team of clinic escorts in Kentucky, where today Dan has written on the intersection of fatherhood and escorting, and about a confrontation with

disapproving men willing to abandon their daughters during their moment of deepest emotional distress, embarrassment, and fear, and leave them to walk through this gauntlet of hatred with a complete stranger, a man who will be in her life for only a few minutes, but is willing and able to be her surrogate father.

The post is both heartfelt and heart-rending. Dan, thank you for writing about your struggle that day, and thank you for being a pro-choice dad and a compassionate escort. And happy Fathers' Day to you!

My father the reluctant pro-choice hero

I suspect my dad never meant to raise a pro-choice feminist. I wonder if he had no idea what he was in for when he had a daughter. He often seems taken aback by my opinions if I don't ease into them or don't take a mild tone defending them. He's uncomfortable with abortion -- knows it's necessary in some cases, but wishes that someone else's daughter were doing the dirty work of "facilitating that." For a while, he seemed outright sorrowful that I had chosen this field.

But I must have gotten these values from somewhere. It always just sort of made sense in my head that it came from him and my mom. The particular differences of our family have always made me appreciate openmindedness and strive to respect others' background and situation. My parents value justice, rights, the common good, public health, and medical truth-telling. And it's because of them that I have always tried to understand all aspects of a person's narrative -- more than is probably possible. So I don't feel bad or wrong when my dad doesn't see it my way -- just sad -- because I know that he knows we are starting from the same values. And finally, in the past year or so, he's stopped asking if I'm considering changing specialties, and started acknowledging aloud that I've found a calling of sorts. 

And yet! Even though we've reached a point where he seems to accept the stories I share with him as good-enough reasons to continue my work, there are certain things that he doesn't seem ready to let go of. Not so surprisingly, they seem related to him as a man, as a father or a potential father: 

1) What if a minor has an abortion without telling her parents? That's wrong, and therefore "parental consent" laws are good. I would want to know if my daughter were pregnant or seeking an abortion, and it's my right as a parent to be involved in her medical care. 

2) What if a married woman has an abortion without telling her spouse? That's unfair to a husband, particularly if he has wanted a child, and therefore wrong, and therefore there should be a law against it. I would want to know if my wife were pregnant or seeking an abortion, and it's my right as a potential parent to have a say in what happens to my potential child. 

Compelling hypotheticals, but I'm forced to disagree with him every time. The number of negative situations that could be dangerously exacerbated by parental consent or "paternal" consent is so overwhelming, and so non-hypothetical, that I just can't abide by the argument that we should pass coercive laws based on the assumption that all families/couples have healthy relationships. It's not just that, fundamentally and morally, abortion is not up to a parent or partner's decision; it's also that women and girls may very well die if we let it be someone else's decision to make. Remember the 13-year-old in Pennsylvania who was hospitalized this month, because she induced an abortion with a pencil rather than comply with her state's parental involvement law. Daughters get kicked to the curb or worse for being pregnant. Adult women get shoved around and beaten up and their abusers threaten their children or pets, all to keep them under control, and impregnating a partner (child or adult) is a sadly common weapon to ensure she's stuck with him. 

That's why, if you're a parent (or partner), the onus is on you to make your relationship with your daughter (or partner) one that she knows she can trust for support in making difficult decisions, and then hope that she decides to share that part of her most private life with you. Like you're supposed to do in your relationship in general, for everything. Ensure in advance that she always knows you are there for her, for any eventuality, whether or not she'd choose what you'd choose -- like I know my dad is. That's really all you can ethically do. If you're already doing it, I thank you from the bottom of my daughterly heart. 

Restricting Abortion

I am so tired of the many abortion restrictions happening throughout the country right now. New ultrasound laws, parental notification/consent laws - all these do is hurt women who have already experienced a lot of pain. They don't stop someone who really wants an abortion from getting one. They just cause her to go through more trauma.

By now you all may have already heard the story of a 13-year old from Pennsylvania who tried to self abort with a pencil. This girl, impregnated by her 30-year old boyfriend chose to risk her life in order to end her pregnancy. Why did she do this to herself? Pennsylvania has a parental consent law. In order for this girl to have had a safe abortion, she would have had to get the consent of one of her legal guardians. Why wouldn't she talk to her parents? Well, she's 13 and was having a relationship with a 30-year old. Now, of course I don't condone the relationship those two had, and who knows what kind of control this man had this girl under. The fact is, she was afraid of being found out, so she inserted a pencil into her vagina, hoping to give herself an abortion, and ended up miscarrying. Why are these laws continuing to be created? Why do people think these laws are a good idea? This story shows that if someone wants an abortion, they will find a way do it and possibly hurt or kill themselves in the process. It makes me angry.

Some light in this bleak scene can come from unlikely sources. In Florida, Governor Crist appears likely to veto a law that would require all women seeking an abortion in the state of Florida to get an ultrasound. He made the following statement to the Pensacola News Journal.

"I have concerns about it," he said. "The notion that there would be a forced ultrasound, if you will, that would have to be paid for by the woman involved — you know, those are the things that seem to be pretty difficult for a woman already in a difficult situation."

Wow. I am amazed to hear a politician say this, and a Republican at that. Could there be hope?

Guest Post from Desembarazarme's Mom

A Golden Age of Abortion

(written for support of my Abortioneers*)



Sweet youth, the way things used to be;

I tell my daughter now, because comparatively

She is sliding back into the dark ages.

Threatening the lives of women,

And therefore the lives of mankind,

The voices of lawyers and politicians

Think they are listening,

But they are only listening to the Right.

The repercussions are masked.

They say they are saving the unborn

And what is really happening is

Endangering the lives of the born.



We mothers who have entered the barren bliss

Of middle-age

Have probably long forgotten the shared comment by

the girlfriend you knew in college.

The one who, in 1972 said that she’d become pregnant.

The one who mentioned the name of Planned Parenthood ~

A young woman’s haven of solace.

“I just called them and made an appointment.”**

You recall the statement when it’s your turn.



Thirty-eight years later erases the shock and the fears

Which probably overwhelmed your ‘choices’.

It was an easy (I hesitate to add simple) decision to make.

When you’re a twenty year old co-ed

In 1972 there aren’t many choices in your life anyway.



Gentle, supportive boyfriend and friends,

They all sympathize appropriately ~

within the realm of the collective

Mindset of twenty year olds.



Life goes on ~

And sometimes I wonder at

The twist of fate that led me to

Abort when I lacked maturity and resources.

How much drastically different my life would be

If I parented that one . . .

And not the ones who were conceived

And carried to term instead.

I know that if I had had that one,

My choices would have never brought me to

This space and time.



Now I am the mother of a daughter

Whose passion has grown around the

Victims of conception.

These are not the middle-class girls with boyfriends,

The young women who have ultimate resources

Of money and family who will,

When pressed,

Provide a safety net.



The victims of conception are …

Well, listen to the stories of the abortion providers.

Listen to what is RIGHT.





*This is not a story that I needed to tell. I tried my best to convey it for my dearest daughter and her colleagues as a way of communicating this part of history. I am so proud and in awe of all of you.



**I took the historic events blissfully for granted, but the Planned Parenthood that my friend contacted was in Washington, D.C., and she was able to arrange her abortion at a nearby facility. I went to a Planned Parenthood located in New Jersey and was referred to a clinic in NYC. Apparently, in 1972 the states legally performing abortions were evolving. A few years later New Jersey was performing them, too. Both of us were fortunate not to have had to travel far. Regarding the cost … it’s also fuzzy, but it was probably around $250. - $300. A lot for those days, but easily obtained.





Everyone has their versions of their own stories.

Mine seems somewhat jaded.

I am left in awe of wondering

How my life as I know it

Wouldn’t exist if the choice had been made

differently.

I wonder at the winds of fate.





HYPOCRITICAL



What are the statistics of abortions procedures since the legalization of Roe vs. Wade?

Of those tens of thousands (how many more?), I cannot comprehend that any one of those individuals, OR their partners, could consciously be against it now. How many mothers, fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers are among us who now claim to be anti?

How dare they!

They took advantage of the privilege of choice. That choice monumentally changed the course of their lives --- for the better? Because it did not unnecessarily burden them with a responsibility they felt unable to accept at that point in their lives.

How can they take a position against choice now that their life’s journey has led them to a comfortable position because of the choice they once had the privilege to make?

"Hello, my name is XXX. I am the proud parent of an Abortioneer"

Last week, Daughter of Wands posted a tale of talking with her mother about a clinic experience and how her work as an Abortioneer relates to her family. My own mother is an avid Abortioneers reader, and she later mentioned to me that she liked seeing Daughter of Wands' mom (Wands, herself?) post a comment, and that gave her an idea: My mother, the Progenitor of Desembarazarme (Desembarazarle?), proposes a blog, or maybe a club, or a support group, even, for Proud Parents of Abortioneers. It wouldn't be a place for them to commiserate, because, my mom reasoned, what is there to commiserate about when your daughter (or son) is working every day to give women a choice, to keep abortion safe and legal, and doing work they love? It could be a place to brag about our good work, or to talk about how they wish they didn't have to see us cry in anguish over a tough case. They could discuss how they don't feel free to talk about their kids' jobs because they don't live in a community that lets them talk freely about their beliefs. And boy, oh boy, would they have tales to tell about the time before abortion was legal because don't forget, they lived it. They could also probably discuss their unspoken fears as we walk through protesters to go to work behind bullet-proof glass. And sure, they could talk about how even though they're life-long pro-choicers, until we started working at our clinics or our support jobs, they never had to really think about the realities of a 23 week abortion, and how they got OK with that (or didn't).

I give out pamphlets and brochures and websites written on scrap of paper to clients all the time--materials that direct them to post-abortion support groups or hotlines. I've given out booklets about decision-making, and I love suggesting sites that demystify abortion and de-terrify clients. So why couldn't I give out a card to my colleagues' parents letting them know that THEY aren't alone? I'm sure it wouldn't be the first time they were exposed to a group like that...after all, if they are the parent of an Abortioneer, they're probably used to 18+ years of finding support for parents of a feisty/stubborn/sensitive child. Now, they could get some company as they parent feisty/stubborn/sensitive adults.

Props to my mom and Daughter of Wands' mom and all moms and dads and grandparents and aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters and friends and fifth cousins twice removed who read and who love us. The antis want us to tell you thanks for not aborting us (though let's face it: I'm sure they wish we were aborted, if only they believed in it!), but I say, thank you for believing that you had a choice when you were pregnant with us, and thank you for raising us in such a way that allowed us to become the Abortioneers we are, and thank you for supporting us and our choices as well as all women and their choices. And to my mom, in particular: Thank you for donating to the NNAF Bowl-a-Thon. (And for so, so much more.)

Parents and Abortion

I talk to parents all the time. Usually moms. And I’ve been thinking about how they must feel, what they may experience as their child decides to have an abortion. Sometimes they just need to vent: they’re angry their daughter is pregnant; angry she didn’t tell them sooner; confused because they’re pregnant at the same time (maybe even same gestation) as their daughter who wants an abortion; devastated their daughter was raped. Sometimes, parents’ values and beliefs about abortion change in the face of their child’s pregnancy. I’ve heard dads and moms say they didn’t agree with abortion, but…their daughter was so young and had so much going for her and they wanted to protect her and they thought a pregnancy would ruin her life. So. Their minds changed. Their hearts changed.

Did any of you see Thursday’s episode of ABC‘s “Private Practice?” The 15 year old daughter, Maya, of two doctors, was pregnant. One of the parents was very anti-abortion, but was adamant her daughter have an abortion. At one point, she screamed, “Do I believe I’m going to hell for forcing my daughter to have an abortion? Yes! Do I regret it? NO!” Though some of how this parent handled the situation annoyed me to no end (I thought it was narcissistic and over-the-top), I had to ask myself how I would feel. How would I feel if my daughter was pregnant? How would I react if she didn’t want an abortion?

I’m a parent. I have a daughter. I’m fiercely pro-choice and am grateful that my daughter will have the right to choose whether she continues a pregnancy or not in the future; but, if my daughter came home at age 14, 15, 18 even and said she was pregnant, how would I respond? How would I want my daughter to be treated when she called a clinic to make an abortion appointment? How would I want the person to talk to her? What would I want from the person who took my call? I would want them to take time with me, with her. To listen to us cry. To let me rant. To tell me they’re sorry and it must be hard. If my daughter had no clue how far along she was, I would want them to bend over backwards to help her find out, even if it meant going out of their way to stay at work a little longer, just to give her an ultrasound, so she could sleep that night, instead of waiting one more god forsaken day. I would want staff who were not burned out.

On the day of her abortion, I would want her to be treated gently and kindly. Like she was the only patient. I’d want to be with her - if she wanted - during the abortion. I would want desperately to hold her hand, kiss her forehead, help her breathe, and tell her it would be okay. I would be a hot mess if I had to wait in a room, far from her, not allowed to be with her during her procedure. I would want the staff to smile. To be warm and reassuring. I’d want them to acknowledge me, too, as part of the story. I would want them to acknowledge that I, too, might need support. And maybe all that I’d need would be a pair of knowing eyes, looking at me, nodding as though they understood.

I just think we can do more sometimes. More for the moms. More for the dads. More for the boyfriends and friends and aunts and uncles and cousins. Sisters and brothers. Look at them, knowingly. Listen to them. Yes, it’s all about the patient, the woman.

It’s about all the people in her life, too.