I remember walking around Barnes and Noble with my younger daughter, my older one was in school. I remember feeling completely numb and so stupid. We had not used any protection at all, he was out of work and the night I’m fairly sure we conceived we were so drunk. I think we were just trying to wade through those difficult days. I had tried to get work but due to having virtually no career to speak of other than being a sahm, and smack in the middle of the last recession, there was very little I could do. I had toyed with the idea of the military just because it looked like you could make around 30 k a year. So he had gone to trucking school and was thinking he would be over the road trucking. And I would be at home with three kids, a baby, and two young children – one of which had Down Syndrome and was having their own problems, to care for. My family was (and still does) shunning me due to leaving the Jehovah’s Witnesses, his mother was getting older and was limited in what she could do. I know his younger brother knew but I doubt we ever told the older one as the wife was very “Catholic”. While I was leaving the religion I’d developed a serious case of anxiety and what I (later) realized were panic attacks. My face and arms and legs would go completely numb, and at the time I had no idea what was going on.
It was my idea to have the abortion. I thought, it’s not that big of a deal. I went to a clinic, and went through the steps to get the appointment. In many ways I felt like the women were like herded together. I often think that people who are so “anti-choice” think we’re in there having a party with champagne and it’s an awesome time. It’s not fun. And the feeling of the room as we waited was very solemn, somber. The doctor asked me as he performed the procedure what had happened. I admitted that no we didn’t use birth control. He was quiet. I can’t imagine that doing abortions is an easy job, especially one after another. I didn’t like it. But feeling as if there were so few options for support, and I mean real support left us feeling like there was really only one. I had a few friends that I’d made and out of the three, I felt ok telling two of them. Otherwise I didn’t know anyone.
In the years that followed I’ve struggled with that day. And I’m tired of that struggle. I’m tired of women who’ve never been in that situation making shitty comments about other women having abortions. I’m tired of people walking around with their noses in the air thinking they are so much better than me. I’m just tired of it. And the more they think they’re so saintly, the angrier I get. Angry at their God, angry at their churches, and angry at their followers. And angry enough to vote and vote like my life depends on it.
