A Rational Animal

George the Obtuse issued the following proclamation on the occasion of the anniversary of Roe v. Wade:

America was founded on the principle that we are all endowed by our Creator with the right to life and that every individual has dignity and worth. National Sanctity of Human Life Day helps foster a culture of life and reinforces our commitment to building a compassionate society that respects the value of every human being.

Among the most basic duties of Government is to defend the unalienable right to life, and my Administration is committed to protecting our society’s most vulnerable members. We are vigorously promoting parental notification laws, adoption, abstinence education, crisis pregnancy programs, and the vital work of faith-based groups. Through the "Born-Alive Infants Protection Act of 2002," the "Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act of 2003," and the "Unborn Victims of Violence Act of 2004," we are helping to make our country a more hopeful place.

So the justification for various abortion regulations and subsidies of anti-abortion organizations is that there is an "unalienable right to life" that applies to fetuses, and that the principle that "every individual has dignity and worth" apparently applies to fetuses. So I can only assume that the next step will be an intense national campaign to have abortion immediately prosecuted as first degree murder in all 50 states–the only defensible policy flowing from Bush’s premises. At the very least, every women who obtains an abortion, every doctor who performs and abortion, and everyone who assists in the abortion should be executed, and everyone who knows about the abortion be prosecuted as an accessory to capital murder. It’s the least he can do and sleep at noght.

Or, alternatively, Bush could stop justifying stupid, irrational laws using moral arguments that as applied to abortion he (like most people who use them) obviously doesn’t take seriously. And in doing so, cynically degrades our highest constitutional principles (and, indirectly, uses the dignity of the civil rights movement to justify the restriction of women’s rights.) That would be good too.

Renaming it National Irony Day, Shakes has posted her usual stellar "Fuck You" to Bush and his anti-choice buddies here. 

But I want to take a moment to explain why this issue is so important to me - and why, when the weather is bad and I’m supposed to be getting ready to drive to Albuquerque, I’m instead taking time to blog this morning.

One month from today, it will have been exactly 15 years since I had an abortion.  It was not a decision that I took lightly; in fact, it was fraught with fear and sadness.  But it was the best decision I could have made under my particular circumstances - and, in fact perhaps the best one I’ve made, period, in terms of major life decisions.  I do not regret it for a moment; I never have.

Fifteen years ago, my boyfriend and I were in a new relationship.  We were also broke - and by that I mean barely-able-to-pay-the-rent-and-keep-the-lights-on broke.  Yes, we used birth control; it failed.  (Not that we realized it at the time.)

Within a couple of days, I was sick.  Nausea, cramps, the whole nine yards.  I thought my period was starting early.

After two weeks of this - my period was by now a few days late - I scraped together the money for a pregnancy test.  And my whole world fell apart.

I was a student; for the first time in my life, I actually had a chance to break the bonds that had kept my family tied to poverty and fundamentalism.  (I’m the only member of my family to go to college, much less law school; only two of us four kids even graduated from high school.)  For the first time in my life, I was able to see light at the end of the tunnel.  And when the blue plus sign appeared in that little window, that light flickered, and then winked out.

I can’t begin to describe the sense of devastation, of desolation, that I felt.  Probably only a woman who’s been there truly knows how soul-shattering it can be.  I can’t be pregnant; I was being safe.  I can’t be pregnant; I’ve got too much to do.  I can’t be pregnant; this isn’t happening to me.  But it is.  And you realize right away that you’ve got to deal with it, and that means that you’ve got some very hard decisions to make.

Add to that mix the constant physical pain and nausea I felt.  Add to that mix the knowledge that, to my family, I would be committing an unpardonable sin.  Add to that the fact that the only person I could talk to about it was my boyfriend.  (At his urging, I made the mistake of telling one of our friends; she clearly thought I was committing murder.) 

And yet, I consider myself one of the lucky ones.  My boyfriend supported whatever decision I made - and, in fact, we managed to stay together for nine years.  I had access to abortion services at a warm, sterile clinic staffed by skilled professionals.  (Although my access wasn’t assured; back then, it cost more than $400, and we didn’t have the money.  The finally agreed to let us pay in installments, and we went without other things for a couple of months to pay it off.)

And while I’m on the subject of the clinic, let’s clear up a few things about such places, shall we?  I’m sick of the right wing’s use of the phrase "abortion mills," connoting an assembly line in which women’s bodies are merely cogs, to be scraped and then shunted out of the way to make room for the next womb to be scraped.

Bullshit.

The clinic I went to required (by law) counseling and a 24-hour waiting period.  They encouraged partners to come along (mine did), but they interviewed the woman privately first to ensure that she really did want him there.  And at every stage of the process, from initial intake to pre-counseling interview to counseling to the moments before the procedure, I was asked, "Is this what you want?  Is anyone pressuring you into this?  If this is your choice, we’ll do it, but if you don’t want to, it’s all right - just tell us, and we’ll help you deal with your partner [or whomever]."  I was shown a video explaining what the procedure would entail, and including information about fetal development, as required by state law (because, you know, women aren’t really bright enough to make an informed choice without having paternalistic propaganda shoved down their throats - or up their twats, as the case may be).  Thankfully, it was not a state where I had to view graphic and gory footage of putative aborted fetuses.

I was given an IV local; it knocked me out before the procedure even began.  I wasn’t even sure who the doctor was until I returned a couple weeks later for my follow-up visit.  He was a slightly-built Indian man with curly hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and an incredibly gentle demeanor.  After a thorough check-up, he looked me in the eye and asked how I was "doing" - meaning the psychological effects.  I told him I was okay.  Then I said, "Doctor - thank you."  He took both my hands in his, held them a moment, thanked me for thanking him, and said, "And, please - vote pro-choice."  When I assured him that I would, he thanked me again, and said that I would be surprised how many people in my situation wouldn’t.  I told him that I would be voting pro-choice from this point forward.

And I have.  And I can’t imagine ever voting for an anti-choice candidate.  Because when I think back fifteen years, to that scared, desperate girl who felt like she had nowhere to turn, and realize that I was one of the lucky ones . . . .  So many women don’t have the options that I had, the resources, the choice.  And no politician, no religious fanatic, nobody has the right to tell any of us what to do with our bodies.  Our wombs are ours.  And we will decide what to do with them, thank you very much.