#YouKnowMe
I have had 2 abortions, both surgical under general anesthesia. They were practically back-to-back right around my 21st birthday. I was married. I had a toddler. I was the sole financial provider in my home. Being pregnant made me so sick I could barely function. I had been on and off hormonal birth control for years and it made me absolutely insane and sick for one week a month. The flux in hormones turned me into, for lack of a better work, a PMDD Monster. I’d gotten a diaphragm from Planned Parenthood but hadn’t realized just how bad my allergy to the the required spermicide was.
My husband didn’t take the time to ask for my consent most of the time, let alone whether or not I’d put in my diaphragm. At 20/21 years old the concept of bodily autonomy was foreign to me. Between being sexually assaulted (more than once) and the cultural scripts I’d been taught, I just thought it was normal. I was the bad guy when I said no to him.
I was lucky in that I was able to get my tubes tied the following spring at 21 years old with only one child while separated from my husband. The worst thing about that: the doctor was working pro bono (Planned Parenthood also got me connected with that service) and after a brief exam said to me, “Well, you’re not too fat so we can do it.”
(Logically I know that it was about the need for additional hands in surgery based on body type. Emotionally, I felt like I’d been called fat by a medical professional. That was the least direct comment I’ve had about my weight by a doctor since then but it was the first time I’d heard anything like it before and it stung.)
I shared that tweet yesterday on my Facebook and got a message shortly after from a dear friend who is over 10 years my junior. Her message said, “I had an abortion last week.”
This is a young woman who has always been very vocal about all things political but she hadn’t posted anything direct about the abortion bans that are happening around the country. She said something to the effect of, “I could post #metoo all day but right now I can’t do what you did. I can’t tell anyone.”
She then described her experience of a “safe, legal” abortion. She was 5 weeks along and the doctor made the remark that he doesn’t often see women in the clinic so early. Let me say it again: The abortion doctor sees VERY FEW women before 6 weeks along.
Let that sink in, in light of the current laws that are being passed.
She had an ultrasound with a wand because it was too soon to do the abdominal type most people think about. Her guy was allowed to come in for that but then was basically kicked out of the room before either of them could process anything. The nurses were very stiff and curt. Only the doctor and his assistant during the procedure showed her any compassion. They gave her a xanax but no other anestesia. She screamed in pain and was worried they would have to go back in because the doctor had to use a microscope to be sure he got it all.
On top of the physical experience, she described a feeling all-too-familiar to those of us who have made this choice for ourselves. She felt relief that it was done, but then guilty for feeling relief. That guilt comes from the kinds of bullshit that people (typically white, cis men in power) talk about when they give reasons to outlaw abortions. It’s external bullshit that none of us need in the throes of this kind of thing. Period.
My heart broke for her realizing how lucky I was during my procedures. How lucky I was that I was allowed those choices and that despite my own emotional struggles with my decisions (given the core of my reasons for doing it) I can’t imagine what my life would have looked like without those choices.
This is what women deal with in the best circumstances. It’s heartbreaking. It’s horrifying. And then we get to hear people talk about these fictional women who use abortion as birth control and shame us for, as she and I both did, choosing the life of our living children over the potential for a zygote to become an embryo then a fetus, and then another child to support with our limited resources and opportunities. Fuck that.
I’m furious for the women who won’t have the choices we had. I’m furious for the women who live with the bullshit guilt imposed on us by people who have never walked in our shoes judging the choice we were able to make. I’m heartbroken for those of us who endure the physical distress of being pregnant when we are not in a place in our life to be pregnant, let alone raise a/another baby. I’m devastated to think about the women and GIRLS who will find themselves in that place and have no safe, legal options available that will allow them to move forward in their lives in the way that I was able to.
I’ve got so much of my other shit coming to the surface lately that this feels overwhelming, but I can’t stay silent. I can’t let people keep talking about “those women” when I AM one of those women. I am one of the 1 in 4. You might be, too. And whether or not you can tell your story, know that you are not alone. WE are not alone. Keep fighting. Keep talking. Keep going!
