"Until I come to you"

Motherhood by Georgia Douglas Johnson

Don't knock on my door, little child,
I cannot let you in;
You know not what a world this is
Of cruelty and sin.
Wait in the still eternity
Until I come to you.
The world is cruel, cruel, child,
I cannot let you through.

Don't knock at my heart, little one,
I cannot bear the pain
Of turning deaf ears to your call,
Time and time again.
You do not know the monster men
Inhabiting the earth.
Be still, be still, my precious child,
I cannot give you birth.

From The Crisis (October 1922)

Georgia Douglas Johnson was a black poet and writer who was among the first female poets to gain recognition during the Harlem Renaissance. She was often criticized for not addressing race in her poetry however, much of her writing spoke to issues unique to women's experience.

Motherhood spoke to me in so many ways. Its about choosing motherhood and wanting to bring children into a world that is safe and kind. Based on history we know that the world was less than a safe or kind place for a black woman in the 1920s.

Women who have abortions are mothers. We are mothers of 1 or 7. We are future mothers. We are aunties who raise other people's children but never birth our own. We are women who want to come to motherhood by choice and when we know we can create a world that is as safe and kind as possible to our children. And sometimes we aren't mothers.

Labor Day

For those of us in the medical world, labor is synonymous with child birth. Why? Because if you have ever been in a delivery room, you know that pushing a baby out of you is a HELL of a lot of work!

I personally have never done this sort of labor myself, but I can only imagine the energy it requires.

However, the labor doesn’t stop in the delivery room. Raising a child is, by far, the hardest job in the world. It takes time, patience, money, and unconditional love. And for some women, they are not quite ready for this type of job-they are not financially stable, they are with the wrong partner, they are not emotionally ready, they are taking care of their children.* For whatever reason, it’s not the right time for them to begin this type of labor.

Choosing to terminate a pregnancy is difficult, as is raising a child. We must learn as a society to trust women and their choices. Women know what is right for them and their lives, and it will be our job as physicians and members of the community to support a woman in whatever she decides to do with her body.

On this Labor Day, I honor the women who dedicate their lives to their children and who make difficult decisions as to whether to be a mother. I remember all the women who died unnecessarily during delivery and who died from botched, unsafe abortions.

Today, let's not forget the power of choice and how it can affect all women, everywhere!


*Most women who choose abortion are mothers already.

Guest post: My Truth with Abortion

Hi everyone. We'd like you to meet deliverance, who's graciously agreed to be our guest here for several upcoming Thursdays. As deliverance says, The name means relief from something, and sometimes liberation. Please extend your warmest welcome to our friend and colleague!

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potentially problematic

Hello, dear readers and writers. This is my first post in this special sliver of cyberspace, as I will be guest-blogging for the illuminating Daughter of Wands in August and September.

I started working in the honorable field of abortion care exactly one year and a day ago. Never had I expected to become so bonded with abortion. For quite a long time abortion was, for me, a distant political issue. I was committed as an activist to do my part in protecting abortion rights, but I never had any emotional investment.

When I reflect on how I thought about abortion before my days as an insider, I understand. Mainstream messages don't convey the heart that is in abortion care. That would be radical. Instead, we flaunt, we debate, we yell, and we condemn. There is no story-telling.

It is not new for women to have their stories and lives ignored. In my work, I have been able to honor the lives of many women. I have also come to this realization: Abortion care is soulful; it deepens the heart and opens the mind.

On a daily basis I get to discuss the "big questions" -- questions about life, death, rebirth, loss, and love. Recently, I have been thinking quite a bit about the topic of parenthood and how people make the decision to become parents.

I have been seeing advertisements by the Ad Council to encourage more foster parenting. Each commercial ends with the statement, "Kids in foster care don't need perfection, they need you." So basically, as long as your kid doesn't carry your genes, there's no need to do anything above mediocre. (You can find these ads on the right side of this webpage under "Campaign Materials"):

Choosing to raise a child is a huge responsibility, but these ads make parenting seem like it's something anyone can do, and it's not all that important to strive for anything above the ordinary. Perhaps we should consider the impact we have on our communities when we don't work to raise our children in the best way we can. Also, what kind of impact does it have on a child who hears, essentially, that they don't need anything special from a parent?

In my work at the clinic, I sometimes talk with women who feel obligated to carry out a pregnancy because they aren't in desperate situations. They often feel a bit ambivalent, and figure that if they try hard enough, they could accomplish being a parent.

Shouldn't parenthood be a conscious decision, one which involves a certain amount of desire and motivation? Parenting involves raising a person -- teaching someone about the world, helping them acquire life skills, and instilling values and morals. It shouldn't have the same weight as choosing which dinner entree you want from a menu.

I am not saying I support the ever-popular argument that "It is good to have abortion because there are certain people who just shouldn't have children." But I am noticing, partly through my work at the clinic, that sometimes parenting isn't seen as a profound act.

Recently I came across a poem which made me think of one way to look at parenting. It is from a book called Earth Prayers.

"I'm going to plant a heart in the earth
water it with love from a vein
I'm going to praise it with the push of muscle
and care for it in the sound of all dimensions.
I'm going to leave a heart in the earth
so it may grow and flower
a heart that throbs with longing
that adores everything green
that will be strength and nourishment for birds
that will be the sap of plants and mountains."
-Rosario Murillo

My work with abortion doesn't always have to do with the absence of children. It does, however, always have to do with love.

Happy Belated Mother's Day

"The reasons women give for having an abortion underscore their understanding of the responsibilities of parenthood and family life. Three-fourths of women cite concern for or resposibility for other individuals; three-fourths say they can not afford a child; three-fourths say that having a baby would interfere with work, school, or the ability to care for dependents; and half say they do not want to be a single parent or are having problems with their current husband or partner."

Some may think this is an odd forum for mothers' day wishes. However, I feel strongly that appreciating mother's is a major part of being an abortioneer.

About sixty-one percent of women who get abortions in the U.S. have one or more children. This means that more than half of the women in this country who have abortions are mothers or have at least given birth. When I talk to women in the process of obtaining an abortion I speak to mothers, and lots of them. I also speak to women who would like to be mothers eventually or under different circumstances. So often I hear the question, "Will I still be able to have healthy children in the future?" or, "What are the chances I will be sterilized?" The answer is that women who have safe abortions ARE able to carry healthy pregnancies to term in the future.

In the last week alone I have spoken to multiple patients who were mothers and made a decision to terminate an unintended pregnancy because of their desire to care for their children. One woman came in for a free pregnancy test and, upon hearing she did have a faint positive, broke down crying and exclaimed, "I already have babies, I do not want any more babies right now." Another scheduled her appoinment and as I routinely said, "Please don't bring any children to the clinic," she went into crisis mode because she doesn't have anyone to watch her child. Each day abortioneers everywhere serve mothers.

The very first blog post I ever wrote was titled "A Pro-Family Choice". I said it then and I will say it again, women often choose to have abortion because they want to care for the children they already have. So, as an abortioneer part of what I do every day is celebrate mothers. I remind women that they have the power to make personal decisions about how to care for their bodies, lives, and families. To all of the womyn who identify as mothers or who help care for children, Happy Mother's Day!

Guest post: Pro-Choice? Pro-Abortion.

Today is a very special Friday, as it marks the first official guest post this blog has hosted! Sarah Werthan Buttenwieser is a prolific writer and longtime activist for reproductive rights. She's also the author of the really lovely blog Standing In The Shadows, where last week she wrote a post in response to one of our posts (Desembarazarme's, actually), and we've been happily chatting about it since then. Sarah, thank you for letting us reprint that post here today!

I spent some of a cloudy Sunday afternoon walk thinking about whether to write another piece about abortion access, and how I am really, truly PRO-abortion not pro-choice. Earlier this month I participated in the National Network of Abortion Funds’ Bowl-a-thon and Blog-o-thon. I wanted an excuse to give readers the link to donate one more time (my former work was as a reproductive rights organizer so what can I say: will-raise-money-for-important-causes, check).

Then, I read a wonderful post on the Abortioneers’ blog. This group blog talks about the daily work of people providing abortion services. Theirs isn’t always easy daily work, especially in a political and social climate that has essentially turned abortion into a bad word. Remember how then-Senator Hillary Clinton (in 2005) called abortion “very sad and very tragic?” The possibility that abortion might be one of many reproductive choices—take guilt off the table, please, and while you’re at it, unless the entire situation is tragic, take tragedy off the table, too—without such a sense of taboo and secrecy and shame has become quite radical these days. The post was called Utopia.

Here’s an excerpt:

Today’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.

**

Well, I thought to myself; she said it beautifully—and even with a lighthearted touch. So, I did what I often do when I love something I’ve read; I posted it on Facebook. I wrote this: I heart this, the idea that utopia INCLUDES abortion access. I had been mulling a post about how my ideal world includes abortion, but now I don't think I need to write it: thank you Abortioneers!

I didn’t bargain on negative comments, which were along these lines: abortion is not to be defended with zeal. At best, it’s a necessary evil.

I strongly disagree. And here I am, writing.

My utopia isn’t exactly like the one described in the Abortioneers’ post. That’s to say, in my twenties, when I worked in the field, most of my peers were, like me, childless and our support for abortion rights often came personally—we’d had abortions or otherwise had our own reasons for feeling strongly about the option—and we were very much guided by feminism as our shared rallying point. By feminism, in this context, what I mean is that we believed strongly that for women to be equal in society, agency over reproduction—our bodies—to be essential. Punctuate that with a period. Actually, cap it with an exclamation point! It wasn’t an apologetic stance; it was a celebratory one. I think it more closely resembled the wonderful utopia described in the post I'd just read.

Two decades later, I know people whose views about abortion (from support to opposition or strong discomfort) have changed after 1) having a child, 2) losing a pregnancy or a child, 3) struggling with infertility, or 4) adopting a child. That hasn’t been the case for me. My sense of urgency about abortion rights hasn’t faded one bit over time. It has, though, been altered by parenthood.

What’s changed is that I now see all choices—and that’s really to say, our lives—as messier and more chaotic than I once did (I think I harbored some fantasy that when you truly grow up, you figure “stuff” out, something I now know to be just that, fantasy). I realize in a way that I didn’t back then when getting pregnant seemed to be the easy part—and lucky me, in my case, that remained so for all three babies I gave birth to—that so many things are complicated, amongst them getting pregnant or staying pregnant, not to mention the whole huge black hole of potential hardships raising children… I’ve garnered a new and vast appreciation for life’s complexities and how they don’t necessarily get solved.

And given the sheer weight of that responsibility—parenthood—along with the lack of adequate support for it—no paid parental leave, no single payer health care, women making much less than a man’s dollar, and that’s just for starters—in this country, I would never assume that it’s fair or reasonable or respectful of women to foist that awesome (as in, immense) responsibility upon any woman. I feel that is a tragic situation, although in the same breath, I absolutely know that for many individuals, an unexpected pregnancy and child can turn out to be the greatest of blessings. The one does not change the other.

So many years into the wash of pregnancy, infertility, babies, and children, I appreciate that each of us has a lot to carry and it turns out that how we carry our own experiences is a pretty complicated endeavor, too.

**

My belief given all these givens is that every woman should be very free to make her very own personal choice. Please imagine me, as a potential adoptive mother when Saskia’s birth (or first, or just plain) mother was pregnant with Saskia told me that she considered abortion but couldn’t have pursued it because she didn’t the money. To clarify here: she did not say that’s what she’d have chosen, only that she couldn’t even consider it due to cost. I said (and I cannot make this up): Had I known you, I could have helped you find the money. Why? I knew where money was. I’d worked with—helped to found—the Abortion Rights Fund of Western Massachusetts and because I knew, too, of the Eastern Massachusetts Abortion Fund in Boston. And I meant it, much as I was waiting, and italics can’t adequately convey how fully I was waiting, for that baby, because by then, hers was a pregnancy with an intention and that intention was the baby I love more than I have words to describe.

While I feel, as the mother to Saskia, particularly because the warmth of our open adoption makes our personal story one of the happier ones, exceedingly fortunate, I also know that not all adoptions are so positive. Ours isn’t an easy situation always for all (and our daughter is two; we don’t yet know how she will feel over time about her situation).

No one decides upon placing a child for adoption and goes forth without looking back, as far as I can tell. My friend, Susie Book, wrote on her blog about participating on a panel with other birth mothers. One question was, “How often do you think about your placed child?” Susie wrote: “I think she (the adoptee) got the answer she wanted: Every day. Even the woman who relinquished better than fifty years ago said it immediately: Every day.” The bottom line is this: parenthood is a huge deal. And there are no easy answers.

I believe our best choice is to acknowledge that given the complexity and the responsibility, we must, must envision a world that supports women to make their own choices, without the hubris of shame or the crushing taboos that cast silence atop our most intimate—and sometimes painful--experiences. Now that I am raising a daughter, I want her future to be that much freer than the present. So, I’m going to continue to challenge us all to look beyond what we carry with us—important as those experiences are—to what it means to try to make this choice for another person. I’m not just going to hope for this; I’m going to work hard to try and ensure that you keep your hands off my daughter’s body.


Like it? You can find Sarah writing regularly at Standing In The Shadows.

The documentarian is an abortioneer

Every rare once-in-a-while an abortioneer comes along with the sheer and immaculate ability to fashion a show that is both heart-wrenching and humorous, haunting and inspiring, meaningful and immediate. Angie Young is a hot hero and we are not one bit surprised her film is a 2009 Rosebud Film Festival Nominee, showcased Saturday, June 27, 2009 at the Rosslyn Spectrum Theater in Arlington, VA.

She says what we are trying to say--with background music and mad citations. Take a look. Be intrigued. Find inspiration and commonality and at least one more enlightening perspective in this documentary worth owning, sharing and giving to everyone you ever found sitting on a fence or dreamin' bout the olden days or interested in social trends, humanity, accessible health care, evolution, hope, etc, etc, etc...

I would always have an abortion

Every day is a snap shot. So hauntingly concise. A few minors (at least one alone), a few women over thirty-five. Most are in their twenties. Most have children, jobs, school. Some have boyfriends, husbands, fiancés and some are single. Some bring friends/ some laugh/ some cry/ some rage/ some all of the above.

There are moments when there are so many patients and significant others, lovers, mothers, fathers and friends waiting for surgery and pills that I imagine the doctor is the Wizard, that abortion is a rock star and I do her bidding. I want to scurry to the kitchen to shake some martinis, dole out gingerbread and kisses until people start warming-up to this, red-nosed/rosy-cheeked, not staring, not hungry, not pregnant, not waiting, not heart-breaking. But alas, it's an abortion not your holiday and we don't give those kinds of kisses.

We do, however, talk to you about your abortion like it's not The Plague. We describe an incredibly safe and generally dignified process and reassure you just how quickly you'll recover--physically, how the uterus is a most-fascinating! muscle. We'll talk to you about birth control in realistic terms, as it applies to you and your lifestyle. And we won't use strange scientific language, nor judge you if you decide to negotiate a path free of synthetic options. We may suggest you use spermicide, or in some cases, emergency contraception (can be purchased over-the-counter tomorrow for next time). We will remind you that abstinence is not 100% enjoyable and then we will all laugh about how men could stand to learn a thing or two.

Most importantly, it's okay that you hate the word abortion, that you don't want to know what the surgery entails, that you believe you're killing or have made a mistake. It's okay to wish you weren't here, to pretend you don't know us when you see us at the grocery store. But oh, how we wish we had more to give to you, that abortion was a wellness check-up and that you left with a basket full of everything you needed to know about your body. How we wish you'd tell a few good friends, that you'd celebrate all the months in your life when your menses flow freely, that you'd pat yourself on the back.

Wordle image, entitled Abortion is Love, can be found at http://www.wordle.net/.