Guest post: Abortion Awakening

About a month ago, I was catching up with an old pal when my phone rang. I silenced it, and it rang again. And rang again. Three more times. Well, it turned out to be important. A young friend of mine was calling for advice. After all was said and done, my friend agreed to write about that experience for us.

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I’ve always felt strongly about the necessity of access to abortion care, but I recently knew someone, for the first time, who was having difficulty getting an abortion. I live in a place where it wouldn’t be uncommon for an 18-year-old girl to be thrown out of the house for seeking abortion, and although I’ve been aware of that reality, it didn’t really resonate with me until I met one who was facing this and needed to pay for and obtain an abortion without her parents’ knowledge.

A girl that I’ve been good friends with for a few years came to me for help. Her friend was trying to get an abortion, she told me, and they’d had an appointment at a clinic, but when they showed up, she had been turned down because the clinic could only provide abortions up to 16 weeks, and she was at 16 weeks and 4 days. She had already had to travel for this appointment, since she lived in a small town, and now not only would she have to travel again, she had to get an overnight dilation, so she would need a place to stay in addition to the procedure costing much more than she had originally expected.

The way this could suddenly become so much more complicated amazed me. All of a sudden she had a week to find a place to stay and a large sum of money and an excuse to tell her parents that she was driving to another town. I was impressed at how committed my good friend was to helping her friend with this, but I still felt so bad that she seemed helpless. I called my friend Placenta Sandwich to see if there was anything I could do to help.

The next day, the girl and I sat down and talked. We called several abortion funds, leaving messages. We found that the clinic that would be the easiest to get funding help for was the one she had already tried. We also talked about finding a place to stay, and my sister tried to find her a host for the night. Before she left, we hadn’t resolved any of these issues, and I had a moment of indecision. I had some money on me, not that significant a percentage of the abortion cost, maybe, but it could help. Maybe it could help with a place to stay or just a small part of the procedure. And I knew $40 was a lot of money to give to someone I barely knew, but I thought about what I would do with it otherwise, and nothing I could think of spending it on seemed to be as important as helping someone with such a small support system.

I gave her the money, she gave me a hug, and she left. Through the following week we kept calling the funds each day, kept working on where she could stay, but come the day of the appointment, we had nothing. She got half of the money from her ex-boyfriend and paid for a hotel with her friend. She thanked me later, saying just knowing she had my support was a great help, and she said she felt fine after the procedure and it all went well, but I couldn’t help but feel like I had failed.

I know that it wasn’t my responsibility, nor was there anything more I could have done, but it made me realize just how difficult obtaining abortion care is. Even if you find a clinic that can help you, you might need to travel for it, which means you need a place to stay, which often requires money, you need to pay for gas, you need to pay for the procedure itself, and sometimes, this is all compounded by having to keep it completely secret. I wanted so badly to be able to help.

I don’t know if I’m going to be an abortioneer. There are some other career paths I am considering, and I’m young. But this experience definitely made me feel like I might be called to do that. For now, I want to leave the area that I live in. But I want to come back and make it a better place for women. I want people to be able to get abortions without having to go to another city. I want girls not to be struggling to figure out how they’re going to pay AND keep it a secret. I want them to feel like they have people looking out for them, whether they live in a big city or the middle of nowhere. So maybe it doesn’t matter so much that I want to live in a city or that I might want a different job; maybe it’s worth some sacrifice.

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.

When Pro-Choice gets Personal

I recently visited my hometown and stopped by an old friend's home. She was excited to see me, and for me to meet her new niece. This particular friend has at least one older sister who already has children, so I figured it was one of her daughters. I came in the house, scooped up a precious little lady in pink polka dots (after my own heart!) and giggled and squeed. My friend's younger sister, who is several years younger than I am, introduced me to her boyfriend, from whose grasp I had blindly stolen the baby. I looked back and forth at the two of them and realized: the baby was hers!

Nobody had explicitly mentioned that the baby belonged to the youngest of the brood. I guess I had just assumed that she was too young to have children. I managed a "Congratulations!", though my mind was racing and I was in shock. But to look at the little family huddled up in the living room - Mom, Dad, Auntie - you could surmise that this was a perfectly healthy and happy bunch. As for the baby, she was really something. I couldn't keep my hands off her. What a doll! I played with her, sang to her, watched as Dad, still in his work uniform, changed her diaper and scolded Mom for swinging her too hard ("She could fly right into the wall!"). It was wonderful.

Since becoming an Abortioneer, I've become even more pro-choice than I'd ever thought possible. Because I not only celebrate the right to choose abortion, but also the right to bear children. I had always considered unwed motherhood something distant, completely outside of my scope of being. My middle-class, pill-popping environment had made it so. And for a split second, when I realized that this young woman was a mother, I felt as though something had gone wrong. I wanted to say "You could have called me! I would have known what to do!" But that thought was gone sooner than it came. My friend, and anyone who friends me on Facebook, knows where I stand on the issue, and is aware that I have information and "connections". This was a smart woman. If she had wanted help I'm sure she could have found it. But she was a mommy, and she had a daddy and a big warm family there for her. And her little Christmas miracle made them all smile and laugh, and why would I spoil that? My services, so to speak, were not needed here. All the wanted from me was to enjoy the opportunity to kiss a cheek, tickle a belly, and celebrate a special little person with old friends. And I'm so glad I did.

HOWEVER! To all the women out there with different situations, or the same situation but different feelings, you can still call on The Abortioneers. We'll support you through it all.

Whatever You Need

Don't Ask Because I Won't Tell

When I'm Ready,
I'll tell.
But for now,
please don't ask.

By Chris Cotrina, from a multicultural queer youth anthology Revolutionary Voices

A friend of mine had an abortion in almost complete secrecy. She didn't tell me or pretty much anyone. There was a moment when I wished she had felt comfortable confiding in me given my line of work. However, I know that her experience of making the choice to have an abortion was not about me. If she needed almost total privacy, I wanted her to have what she needed.

I have had 2 good friends and an older aunt express a sense of regret after their abortions. Those same women have expressed complete releif and gratitude that their life took paths that would have been impossible had they carried that pregnancy to term. I beleive each woman is entitled to feel whatever she needs to feel before, during, and after her abortion. Its hard because the anti-abortion sect often uses media outlets to make women think they *should* feel guilty. Each time my sisters have expressed regret I try to stand with them and tell them thats ok. I also try to help them move to a place of peace. I'm really thankful there are organizations like Exhale who offer post-abortion counseling that is not weighted by the demonization of women who choose to have abortions.

There is no "right" way to feel during or after an abortion. I wish we lived in a world where women could receive whatever kind of emotional support and care they needed before, during, and after choosing to have an abortion.

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?

Patient "support persons," and a reader poll!

Allied blog plug: If you aren't reading Every Saturday Morning, you should be! Last month, this post brought me close to tears, tears of anger at the way patients and escorts were subjected to not only simmering tension, creepy or violent threats, and verbal aggression, but also stalking and actual physical violence. Really, I just sat there afterward and felt like my bones were shaking from indignation.

But today I read this post that brought me to tears of gratitude, about a moment when strangers came together to help a woman in need -- not just the band of escorts and certainly not the band of "sidewalk counselors" (anti-abortion protesters and harrassers), but people inside the clinic, friends and drivers of other patients.

Now, I'm not saying I cry at the drop of a hat or anything, but another thing that always does it to me is seeing two patients' respective support people bonding in the waiting room, during the several hours the patient may need to be in the clinic offices -- for example moms sharing the experience of being a parent to a patient, or one offering to run out for some food for both of them or helping to entertain the other's grandchild who had to come along to the clinic.

We hear a lot about the isolation of needing a stigmatized procedure, and I certainly do see lots of women who don't want anyone to know, don't want to sit with "the others," come without a support person even if that means no Vicodin and no sedation, or cross their arms and avoid any eye contact with other patients. But when patients can reach out to each other, and when they have warm and committed support people who reach out to one another or even to other patients -- well, it does happen, and I still get wet eyes every time.


Question for readers! How many of you have been a woman's support-person during her clinic visit? What was it like for you -- were you uncomfortable? Did you make friends? Was the wait really long? Was it easy or hard to be supportive that day?

Or, if you've had an abortion and are comfortable talking about it in comments, did you have a support person, and if so how were they?

I'll post a poll on the right of the home page, if you want to tell us more anonymously, but consider ALSO telling us in your own words, which is always so great to read!