Moving On

I am grateful for Sparky's last post about "Dr. Rude." I, too, have run into a Dr. Rude, and it's so not fun.

What I - sadly - feel of more often is the need to advocate for patients within my own clinic. It's true that many clinics are suffering across the country. Most are seeing fewer clients. We're worried about healthcare reform and Obama selling us out. We want to keep our doors open so we can serve women. I believe, however, when a business focuses so much on the operations of running a business, and forget the women, forget their stories, forget why they're here in the first place...then they lose sight of why our work is so important, and they'll ultimately lose business, too. (Unless, of course, they're the only provider in the area!)

I was recently told, "you advocate for all the women," as if that's a bad thing. Seriously? Are you kidding me? Since when is it a barrier to be passionate about this work? Since when is it a barrier to completely care with all your heart and soul about the women we see? Since when is it bad to go the extra mile, find a little more funding for a woman, and ensure she has a safe abortion in a compassionate setting?

Like Moral Pilgrim, one of our avid readers/commenters, I am very passionate about patient advocacy. It's what motivates me. It's what puts a fire in me. I think about the women. I fight for them because I give a shit. I don't forget that pregnancy impacts every.single.aspect.of.their.entire.lives. I don't forget that. I treat each woman with respect and kindness. Even when I'm fucking tired and would like to go home. Even after getting it in the ear about spending time with someone who is making one of the biggest decisions of their lives. Because guess what? You spend the fucking time, you give a shit, you put your heart on your sleeve, you are compassionate and genuine...and (as if, by fucking magic!) you'll have a good clinic, with good staff, and with patients who are fucking grateful and will go tell all their friends how great xyz clinic is.

Oh. And since most of us clinics get their referrals from friends/family, it's probably not a terrible idea to forget why we're here doing abortions. Because it's not about abortion. It's not about how fast the doctor can finish his job so he can sod off home for the day. It's not about the bottom line. It's about giving a shit. It's about LIFE. I will say that again: OUR WORK IS ABOUT LIFE. It's about EVERYTHING. And if you don't get THAT, you shouldn't be doing this work. And if you're in this work just because of a paycheck, or because you can't be bothered to look for a new job in a bad economy, or because you feel you have to be loyal to your business (even though you're finished and done with it all), then this is my suggestion: move on. Get a new job. Quit wasting your time. And a note to those of us in companies where maybe we're not so excited with the current philosophy of where we work: maybe we, too, should find a new clinic where clients come first. Really. Or start our own clinics!

Abortion in My Dreams

Last night I dreamt I was walking through the halls of a University. I’m not sure I even went there. I overheard three girls behind me talking about “some pill” that could induce an abortion. They called it some dream name I don’t quite remember. One of the girls in the group disagreed and thought it was just a myth. I whipped around to face this group of strangers and said, “Actually, it’s true.” They all looked at me like, what does she know? So, I continued to talk.

I continued to impart every ounce of knowledge I could spew out before they would no longer listen. I told them how no matter what you end up deciding to do with an unplanned pregnancy, it is a difficult situation to be in for every woman. The same girl who disagreed with the idea of a medical abortion, then told me, “it would never happen to me. I would never be in that situation.” I proceeded to list off the endless ways; she absolutely could be “that girl.” The girl who thinks, this could never happen to me. I’m not like them. I wanted to help her see and feel and empathize with all the women who may have thought it would also never happen to them, to be pregnant with an unwanted pregnancy.

Now the dream gets a little fuzzy...

Last thing I remember is screaming out through my tears, pleading almost, for them to understand how inaccessible an abortion is for many women. How expensive it can be. How health insurance does not always cover abortion. How Medicaid often does not cover abortion. As they walked through the heavy locking doors to their gymnasium, they all looked back at me. I could see in their eyes, a touch of pity, for trying desperately to reach through to them; a touch of sympathy, for my unyielding passion about abortion acceptance and accessibility; and just maybe, a touch of understanding.

When I awoke, I still felt the desperate urge to relay how important it is to keep abortion available and affordable, free from stigma, violence and shame. I wanted those girls to feel as dedicated to the struggle for abortion’s acceptance into the medical field, as a simple, safe procedure that should be afforded to any woman who chooses to terminate an unwanted pregnancy.

I used to dream a lot about abortion. When you are working in the field (at a clinic, a fund, a non-profit organization, as a counselor, a provider, etc.) abortion permeates every atom of your being. At least, it did for me.

After 5-6 years of working “in the field,” I have become distanced from this way of life. As if I have been pushed into the periphery. I chose to study sexuality and reproductive health in graduate school, in hopes that I would have a wider forum to talk about abortion. This is rarely the case. It is no longer part of my everyday language. Days can go by where I don’t even say the word-Abortion. This is a big shift for me, from saying it around 100 times a days-to patients, their friends and families, clinics, provider, MY friends and family.

My dream reminded me, that although I feel separated sometimes from the everyday discussion of abortion, I am just as passionate, energized and determined to fight for abortion acceptance in all realms of life. I continue to educate people whenever I can about the intersecting social/political/economical issues that abortion effects. I will continue to join like-minded people in discussions, fundraisers, blogs, and marches to keep abortion at the forefront.

I believe no matter where my life takes me; I will never be far away from the abortion world. And that makes me feel good.

What Brought You to This Work?

Recently, someone asked me how I became involved in abortion care work and who or what has guided my journey in that work. After writing to her I thought I would share that story here.

As a child my mother took me to clinic defense rallies. I didn't really understand what it was were defending but I knew that it was important to my mom. I don't really remember a time when I learned about abortion or choice. Abortion was always a part of life just like pregnancy, miscarriage, or childbirth is a part of life.

I sort of fell into abortion work, or rather it chose me. I wrote a personal narrative about coming out as gay and being from a multi-racial family for an adjunct professor my freshman year in college. She encouraged me to attempt to publish the piece, but I didn't follow through. As the school year came to an end, I told her I was looking for part time work and asked if she had any suggestions. She told me she didn't know where I stood in regards to choice but she worked for a pro-choice organization while in school and gave me the information, and I pursued a job working in direct service with women seeking abortions.

The question of where I stood in regards to choice was not really a question for me. The understanding that women should be able to control their bodies and lives seemed like something very basic and unquestionable. I distinctly remember having a crush on a boy in first grade, who I then saw in the midst of a huge pro-life rally with his family. My mom and I were on the clinic defense team. At that moment my 6-year-old heart was crushed, because I knew he was on the wrong side of something really important and my infatuation with him was over. As a child, when my mom told me she had an abortion a few years before having me as a single parent, I told her it was me. I told her this because it made sense to me that I was meant to be my mother's child. It just wasn't the right time when she found herself pregnant the first time at 20 years old. I told her it was me and I came back when the time was right.

When I was hired in abortionland I did not feel particularly passionate about the work. I had just come out as gay and I was hired the week of a catastrophic disaster in my hometown, so it was really the least of my concerns. But I needed a part-time job, and I was all about helping other people regardless of how much or little it had to do with my life.

I had to have an ovary removed within the first 6 months of working in abortionland, and as time went on I was just going through the motions. I knew I was good at the kind of phone counseling I was doing, but I felt highly disconnected from abortion. My supervisor during most of the time I worked for this organization was definitely instrumental in solidifying my understanding of how abortion was important to me personally. My supervisor and the women I spoke to each day are the primary people who shaped my journey.

One day I went to my supervisor for a new security card because I had been robbed. She looked at me and said, "Your life has never been easy, has it?" I responded, "No, not really." This authority figure's acknowledgment of my personal circumstance made the work I was doing to help women seeking abortions feel more important to me.

Some of the staff and I began joking that I would win the award for having the most pregnant friends of anyone in abortionland. During the first few years that I worked in abortion care, I had several friends who had abortions and several more who had babies. I had a friend call me on my personal cell phone one day when I was at work to tell me she had been raped and she was pregnant. I was able to leave my break, call her from a work phone and attempt to assist her. I ended up lending her half the cost of her procedure from my next check so she could be seen as quickly as possible.

The many women in my family and friendship circle who have made the difficult choice to have a baby or an abortion have guided my journey too as I have become passionate about reproductive choice, health, and education. For me this work is the closest thing to what a lot of people, especially Christians, might identify as a calling.

I would love to hear others' stories of what brought you to this work, so please share.

Transitions

I am leaving my current job, where I am immersed in Abortionland as we call it. I am pretty ecstatic about this change in my life. As we all share it is quite apparent that this work is draining, hardening and difficult.

I have been immersed in Abortionland for over 4 years. When I started working in the field I didn’t know I was passionate about abortion. Having just come out as gay I really didn’t think it had anything to do with me, but I knew I believed in a woman’s right to choose and I needed a part time gig, and so the saga begins. As I have become immersed in this work I have sifted through the many layers of choice, reproduction, and women’s empowerment and found my passion. This work is also empowering, fulfilling, and meaningful.

Abortion is a part of women’s survival, it’s a part of owning our bodies, lives, and decisions. Helping women obtain abortions is about giving accurate information and entrusting women to make good decisions with that information. When I talk to patients it is clear that lack of access to abortion is not where problems begin but rather one manifestation of larger societal problems. We live in a sex negative culture, from very early in our lives we learn that sex is shameful, dirty, and we should be secretive about it. We do not get clear and accurate information about our bodies or sex, and we lack language to talk about both. Lack of access to abortion and accurate information about abortion is one manifestation of a sex-negative culture.

Information about sex and health is essential to preventing unwanted pregnancies. Yet, when we can’t talk about sex and we are taught that abstinence is the answer then people don’t know how to take precautions against becoming pregnant. Also, it is a lot easier to ignore signs that one is pregnant if you don’t have a language to talk about your body. For me this work is about a larger picture, it’s much bigger than abortion. It’s about unlearning that sex is shameful, secretive and dirty. Sex is a part of life and people need information about how to take care of their selves and enjoy pleasure.

When I think about how I will remain true to my heart as an abortioneer, there is no question in my mind that this work will remain my passion with or without a job in a clinic or fund. I will bring my sisters to the clinic. I will use the counseling skills I have developed to help my sisters make major decisions. I will swipe my credit card or even request a credit line increase without thinking twice because I can, and I know I can help someone else pay for their abortion care. I will donate to a local fund. I will help a child, or anyone, learn how to talk about her body in a positive manner. I will help give people information about how to enjoy sex safely. I will remind a woman that she has the right to be in control of her own life.

After four years I feel really burned out and I’m thrilled make some major changes in my professional life. However, I am clear that my heart is still in this work and that won’t change.