Telling Dad About My Abortion...Almost!

Sometimes it’s hard to come out as an abortioneer. We know that. And sometimes it can even be hard coming out to family. I never kept my abortioneering work a secret from my immediate family, but I still haven’t told my dad about my abortion. Okay, you’re probably wondering why I am worried about it or care about telling my parent. I mean, I don’t owe it to him or anything. I was in my 20’s when it happened. It’s not part of my job description as his daughter to let him know many years later, “Hey, dad, remember the time I dated that total asshole? You know, the one you hated? Yeah. Yeah. THAT one. Oh, no! Not THAT one, the OTHER one you hated. Well, errr, - uh – yeah, I had an abortion.” Shock and awe!

The thing is: I keep few secrets from my dad. We’re close. Despite this, he hasn’t ever been super supportive of my work or of abortion. He even calls the clinic “the gut and suck.” I’ve heard equally snide comments over of the years about women who have them, the procedure, you get the point; so, when we went to a poetry slam a couple weeks ago where Lauren Zuniga performed “To the Oklahoma Lawmakers,” I was nervous. (Seriously everyone, if you don’t know who she is, you need to.) I’ve mentioned her before to you all, but if you love her like I do, you can never tire of watching her. So, for some ear, eye, and heart candy, here you go.

Though I believe art can be a platform to share ideas and even transform beliefs – if not just challenge them – I was scared about my dad hearing this poem. I shifted in my seat, scratched my neck, and worried he would make another dismissive remark about abortion (which, of course, I take a little personally). Instead, during our drive home, he told me that “To the Oklahoma Lawmakers” was his favorite poem and performance; when pressed, he said it was because “everything she said was true.” I really couldn’t believe it. In fact, I said: “Who are you and what have you done with my dad?!” For the first time in over ten years of my work as an abortioneer, my dad and I spoke honestly and openly about abortion. For the first time in over ten years, I felt he finally got it. Finally understood the humanity behind abortion. Finally got ME. And for the first time in many years, I felt like I might actually be able to share with him that I had an abortion (without being judged) – not for me, really (not in the sense that I need to share my experience) – but so that he can further understand, put a face to, abortion and let loose of stereotypes. Judgment.

All I know is I am grateful for art. For poetry. For spoken word. I will never be able to stop being grateful to Lauren Zuniga. I feel I owe her. And I hope she reads this. Art can transform you. It can transform relationships. Miraculous? Yes. Proof? Dad doesn’t call the clinic “the gut and suck” anymore. And I think sometime soon, we’ll talk abortion again.

P.S. If you want to watch more of Lauren Zuniga, check her out here on YouTube.

What isn't about abortion?

Abortioneers. Tell me if you haven't met someone -- a young girl, an older woman, a mother of four, the grandmother of the patient, a survivor on the run -- whose hands you wanted to grasp as you told her, basically, this:

The Laughing Heart

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.


Charles Bukowski

Today, a Poem

Today all you great readers get a poem. A cool poem at that. Tell me what you think!

And God Created Abortion
by Sharon Esther Lampert
1. In the Beginning of God's Creating the Heavens and the Earth -
2. When the Womb was Astonishingly Empty, Inside of Every Woman Being
God Made Millions of Eggs That Lived a Fleeting Lifespan. And One by
One, Each Egg Cascaded to its Death. God Made Abortion for Womankind.
And It Was So.
And Inside of Every Man Being, God Made Billions of Sperm That Lived a
Flitting
Lifespan, And Cascaded to Their Deaths, on the Upstream, Against Gravity.
God Made Abortion for Mankind. And It Was So.
3. God said, "Let there be Abortion," And there was Abortion.
4. God Saw that Abortion was Good, And God Separated the Eggs from the
Sperm.
5. God Called to the Sperm: "Male," And to the Eggs God Called: "Female."
And There Were Men and There Were Women, One Day.
6. God Said, "Let There Be a Conception. And One Plummeting Sperm and
One Plunging Egg Melded into One, And Propagated the Human Species.
And God Let the Lower Species Have a Greater Survival Ratio of Eggs to
Sperm.
7. And God Said: "Let There Be More Ants Per Square Inch Than Human
Beings Per Square Mile." And It Was So.

Healing Words

The Lessons of the Falling Leaves...

The leaves believe such letting go is love

Such love is faith

Such faith is grace

Such grace is God

I agree with the Leaves

-Lucille Clifton

I love this poem. It is a poem about healing, for me it reminds me that letting go is an act of love rather than hurtful. Often when I sit down to write I am bogged down by the intensity of the work I do. I wish I were able to set aside my memories and experiences completely at moments. I love what I do and I do not have bad memories, but it is an intense line of work. So tonight after a hectic day at work, healing keeps coming to my heart.

Lucille Clifton's poetry often addresses the beauty and pain of real life. I decided to read a bit about her poetry concerning abortion. She has a unique story concerning abortion. In the poem "the lost baby" Clifton expresses a since of ambivalence and sadness about a terminated pregnancy and alludes to financial strains. I believe this poem is beautiful, not because all women *should* experience sadness after an abortion, but because some women do experience some kind of sadness just like some women experience relief and joy.

I have spoken to a few women in both my professional and personal life who experience regret in some form after an abortion. I believe that just like any difficult and life altering decision abortion can be intense and hard.I wish that rather than offering judgment we could find ways to help women heal. No one wants to face an unintended pregnancy, no one.

Lucille Clifton wrote another poem about abortion called "donor". I was unable to find the poem online but from what I have read she attempted to self abort unsuccessfully and 30 years later her daughter donated a kidney to her. This story would probably make an anti-abortion radical hyperventilate with excitement. Based on Clifton's experience I wonder what about her opinions on keeping abortion safe, legal, and accessible. I have no idea if Clifton is pro-choice, but for me what is revolutionary about this poetry is her willingness to make herself vulnerable by sharing her experience of abortion access and choice.

I dream of abortion provision that allows women to express their feelings without the expectation that they should feel any one way. Last week, a woman stated that she felt many of the women in the clinic were taking the procedure "too lightly." I explained to her that each person who walks in the clinic had different life experiences and circumstances and each person will respond to their choice differently. I further explained there is not one way someone should feel or act through their abortion appointments.

*It is hard to write about regret and sadness and abortion. I fear some crazy person on the internet will skew my words. This blog is a place to address all aspects of abortion both as providers and as women.

Spoken Word tribute

I'm a huge fan of spoken word. Can't believe I hadn't seen this before. It's a powerful piece called "To the Oklahoma Lawmakers: Poem." Lauren Zuniga is her name. She's a member of the Oklahoma City Slam team. Check her. And enjoy.


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Guest post: Sons

A warm welcome-back to deliverance, who joins us again with a new guest post :)

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

“wishes for sons” by Lucille Clifton

“i wish them cramps.
i wish them a strange town
and the last tampon.
i wish them no 7-11.

i wish them one week early
and wearing a white skirt.
i wish them one week late.

later I wish them hot flashes
and clots like you
wouldn’t believe. let the
flashes come when they
meet someone special.
let the clots come
when they want to.

let them think they have accepted
arrogance in the universe,
then bring them to gynecologists
not unlike themselves.”

Male privilege is something I encounter on a daily basis at my job. It often comes in the form of a phone call with a curious son on the other line—“If my girlfriend and I had sex on the 8th, but she also had sex with someone else on the 12th, how could it be *my* child?!” In this process of protecting himself, he is avoiding the responsibilities which come with being a sexually active adult.

Women don’t have the option of walking away. Our bodies are bound to such consequences.

In other instances, male privilege oozes from the walls of the waiting room. Impatient sons position themselves on our comfy couches in ways which look all too forced—they appear pouty, bothered, and cast rude stares. “What takes this long? I have things to do!” If only he could know how inconvenient it is to have something unwanted growing inside of you.

When I was in college, one of my Women’s Studies professors shared with me one of her hopes for third-wave feminists: “You need to involve boys and men. We need to make them aware of how gender roles influence their own lives, too.”

Lucille Clifton and my college professor both were communicating something similar: These are our sons. We need to be teaching them better.

Every once in awhile I am reminded. A son comes into a session, scoots his chair close to his partner’s, and listens intently. He does not interrupt her, talk over her, or insert his own opinion wherever he feels compelled to make his voice heard.

He does, however, sincerely ask—with open and interested eyes—“What can I do to take care of her?” This kind of son sometimes asks a myriad of medical questions, about the process her body has to go through. He holds her hand, the entire time.

There are sons who are concerned about the well-being of women. There are sons who honor women. I just wish there were more.

Strong Women

I just want to say that I h-e-a-r-t Sonya Renee, a beautiful, strong poetess who does lots of poetry slams. Yes, I love poetry. Yes, I'm a sucker for women who pull themselves up by the bootstraps and tell all the people in their lives trying to yank those boots off, to go fuck themselves. That's why I love Sonya Renee.

It's also why I really love Sonya Renee today. We all have those days we don't feel so hot about ourselves, where things get a little shitty, and we might just need a bit of a reminder that we're better than we actually think we are, right? Well, I was having one of those days until I watched the video below. This lovely poetess/goddess served as a smack right upside my head telling me, "Uh. Hello! You're not all THAT bad! It could totally be LOTS worse! AND, you like yourself more than you THINK you do!" Don't we all need that every once in awhile?

This is the thing: we don't have to put up with sub-par crap. A friend of mine reminded me today, we don't need to wait around for others who are "dicking around" with our lives to get their dicks back into their pants (like Sonya says!); we can tell them to walk right on out that door because we.like.ourselves.enough. (Even if they don't like US enough.)

Sometimes, this means we like ourselves enough to have an abortion because the guy that knocked us up is a complete tosser who isn't going to stick around when the going gets tough. They just would rather keep on dicking around with that little dick of theirs. So, thank you Sonya. And thank you friend.



Oh, and in case you have not ever seen her in all her pro-choice glory, telling everyone where to stick it, you can watch this (we've posted it before, but personally, I don't think you can ever get too much of the beautiful Sonya: