September 11th, 2001 started out like a lot of other days around that time. I woke up at the apartment of a few of my best friends and slowly got ready. They didn’t have cable tv, and let’s be honest, we were 20 we weren’t watching the news. We (my very good friend Heidi who I still love to death and I) listened to a CD and not the radio on the ride to planned parenthood. So we had no idea what was happening. Apparently neither did the 4 people holding up anti-abortion signs outside the clinic. I got checked in and turned around to sit down and noticed everyone staring at the tv. They were just showing the clip of the first plane being hit over and over again. No one knew what was happening. We didn’t know it was a terrorist attack until a bit later. My middle brother was living in NYC at the time and worked in Times Square. I didn’t know enough about NYC geography to know that he wasn’t super close to the towers. I was obviously worried about him. My oldest brother was also supposed to fly out to Portland (both of our eventual homes) that day to go hiking with friends. My poor mother had a real hard day that day, as all of her children were in some sort of hard or potentially dangerous situation.
I eventually got called back and I’m not going to go into details about the actual procedure itself but I will say this- I was given exemplary care. Everyone was caring and kind. I was able to stay in the recovery room for as long as I needed. I ended up leaving fairly quickly though, as I wanted to go home and sleep. But the point is, in 2001 I was able to get a safe, legal abortion, with providers who gave me the best care they could, in the middle of a terrorist attack. And even though now, I’m doing everything I can to get pregnant with my wife, I’m still helping to protect others right to choose. Your body, your choice!
