Utopia

I'm sitting here in my apartment, looking out the window at the trees dancing in the spring breeze. My cat walked by and gently rubbed my foot as I took a sip of tea. I have no obligations for this day except for writing this post and reading my books in time to get them back to the library. It's the kind of nearly-perfect day that makes me think about what would be absolutely perfect: A world where Sunday means nothing but relaxing with a cat and books and tea, no matter how warm it is outside, and also, a world where OF COURSE everyone wants abortion to be included in the new healthcare plan, where woman talk about their (positive) abortion experiences in the same breath as they talk about the frozen yogurt they had last night, where Medicaid pays for all abortions, where birth control is affordable and accessible and side effect-free, where abortion providers are heroes to all, where every child is wanted, where every termination is a blessing, and where no woman has to panic or give up her dignity or feel complete despair because she doesn't have the money or the means to terminate her unwanted pregnancy. Oh, and also a world where I am 5'9" and I have chocolate pouring out of my kitchen faucet and I have a unicorn.

I'd give up my Sunday afternoon leisure and all the tea in my kitchen (the new version of "all the tea in China," because I'm pretty sure I have more, and who talks about China like that anymore?) if I never had to hear another potential patient sob about how she couldn't possibly continue this pregnancy because she had no job and no support and her kids were already wearing clothes that were too small, so how in the world would she be able to get the hundreds or even thousands of dollars needed to have an abortion? And I would love to see someone merrily purchasing Tory Burch Revas (How do I even know about those?) without automatically, bitterly thinking, "Enjoy your flats. Clearly, they will help the average American woman much more than anything else you could possibly spend your money on."

I'm no Tory Burch buyer, and I'm not even a Chuck Taylor buyer--I can only afford the One Stars at Target. But I pledge to forgo my little splurges on coffee, Lush shampoo, clearance rack earrings, and unicorn in favor of making a donation to the NNAF Bowl-a-thon. Dear reader, will you please pledge to do the same?

A means to an end

Abortion, abortion, abortion
Pregnant pause
I’m pregnant.
I can’t help but think about pregnancy.
Why, because it happens, because it is, it is what is life, it is what is happening, really it is what happens.
Typically the only option is not really optional because
the grass is always greener on
the other side.
Abortion is what is. It is not why, but because.
Abortion is not war it is the product of war.
War on my body, war on my soul.
War on my sisters' bodies, black bodies, really all bodies.
But sometimes the wounds run a little, or a lot, deeper when your body is black.
Or brown, or any color but white.
It's really safe and rather painless or painful for some.
It's not the reason for pain but a result of pain.

Recently, I met with a professor. Let me begin by saying this woman is an amazing professor. Of all the things I learned in 17 + years of schooling, I tend to refer to nuances she taught me rather often. She is objective and smart and saw potential in people. She also challenged people. Of all the teachers I had in college I wanted to have lunch with her before leaving my college town. I emailed her and said something like:

Hi Amazing Professor,
I am still here in collegetown and working in abortionland. However, I will soon be relocating back home and I would like to know if you will be a reference for me?
Sincerely,
Sparky

When she responded stating she would be my reference I asked if we could have lunch. So, we scheduled lunch and she made turkey sandwiches. She packed us a wonderful lunch full of little goodies that really only a mom might think of. We showed pictures of babies we love, and I told her about another student who now has 2 children, one of whom is my godchild.

Eventually, she brought up my work; she proceeded to tell me that she is against abortion. She said that when students comes to her stating they need an abortion, she tells them that she does not agree with abortion and whatever choice they make they should speak to a counselor so that it does not haunt them in 10 years. She was the most objective anti I have ever had the pleasure of speaking to. I don’t think abortion haunts women 10 years later, maybe a woman every once in a while, but no, most women have had a few more pregnancies to contend with in the course of 10 years.

She followed up her self-identification as an anti by stating she just wished we lived in a world where women didn’t feel they needed abortion.

I don't really think this kind of utopia is possible. Even if it were, don't you think something so seemingly perfect probably isn’t perfect at all?

Abortion is not a means. It’s an end.