Real Talk about Abortion

July 13, 2018

This is a hard post to write, and it’s about to get extremely candid up in here. So here’s your trigger warning: this post will talk about abortion and losing a child. This post will be political. If that’s not your bag, no hard feelings. 

 

Now that we got that out of the way…

 

Two weeks ago when it was announced Justice Kennedy would be retiring and Trump would be able to nominate someone, I was filled with dread. Not since that fateful day in November 2016 have I faced this kind of dread, the kind that fills you with a brutal combination of fear, anxiety, and rage. It also coincided with the fact I was returning to work a few days later, so I think most people in my life, even those closest to me, assumed I was feeling anxious about that. But, here’s the thing that kept running through my mind on that day: If Trump nominates a Justice that overturns Roe V. Wade (as he has promised to do), and if / when I get pregnant again that baby gets the same diagnosis I had during my first pregnancy (which can happen), I am utterly fucked. 

 

Here’s the thing that most pro-lifers fail to bring up in the great abortion debate. Most people who have a second trimester abortion (as I did) DO NOT WANT TO. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my life, and hopefully ever will have to. I carry the pain from that decision with me every damn day. And yet, we would be the ones most affected if Roe V. Wade is overturned. Making that decision was hard enough with supportive doctors, medical staff, and family. Having to go through that with the decision being taken away would be unthinkable. Essentially the options would be allow the child and family to suffer, or face criminal action. How fucking horrible. 

 

Now I know I live in California and the chances of abortions being illegal here are less likely, but that doesn’t make me feel any better for people living in places like Indiana. And here’s what’s even more complicated about this side of the abortion debate: pro-lifers don’t support it because it’s still abortion (even if it’s for medical reasons), and pro-choicers are less likely to talk about it because it’s not purely a choice. And because of that, it’s hard to group a termination for medical reasons into the same category as a “typical abortion.” Even phrasing it that way can be offensive to pro-choicers. So, this kind of abortion gets put into its’ own gray area that no one wants to talk about. And how the hell can we start to defend something when most people don’t even know this kind of thing occurs.  

 

I have always been pro-choice, but nothing about my decision to end my first pregnancy felt like a choice. It was simply awful. And yet, every day when I look at my amazing son, I’m reminded that he wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t had my abortion. That is a really fucking hard truth to reconcile and that’s what makes this whole thing even more complicated for me. I wonder how many other mothers are in the same position. And if so, aren’t we the ones that need to be the fiercest supporters of upholding Roe V. Wade? My choice to have an abortion did end a life— a life that would have been filled with strife and pain and may have not even made it to their birth day. But that same decision also created a precious little boy. And that is why I’m filled with dread. And that is why we have to do everything we can to ensure women can still choose what to do for their bodies and babies. And that is why we need to start talking about and humanizing abortions of all kinds. 

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