I am so lucky!
health insurance will cater to the man who said it’d feel better without a condom
nausea, but who isn’t nauseous with the state of the world these days?
i haven’t had my period in over a month. but that’s normal with this birth control
more nausea
negative pregnancy test
more nausea
more nausea
more nausea
joe biden was elected president! we are so lucky!
more nausea. a quick and embarrassing walk through the cvs.
I am pregnant.
I am pregnant.
he sprints to my door, the first words after a hug being
“you’re getting an abortion, right?”
I am so lucky! his fear of the wrath of god does not apply when it’s his problem. he’ll confess his sins later.
i bark at the protesters outside the planned parenthood in between sobs
i’ll be the monster they want me to be
am i a monster?
is this thing inside me, only an acorn, just like me?
am i lucky that it has a heartbeat? am i lucky that my iud dislodged? am i dying? why do i want to die?
the most awkward situation: a woman, her not-anymore teenaged daughter, and the daughter’s boyfriend sit in a family planning lobby in the heart of chicago.
so many lucky people around them. glowing.
i am not glowing. i am a black hole swallowing joy.
everyone knows what i’m here for.
i am disgusting. i am lucky.
my brother silently gives a pro-life billboard in indiana the middle finger. this is the most touching thing he could have done.
i am back at my apartment. i am throwing up. i am lucky.
my brain screams for months, questioning how i could dare defy my biological purpose.
so many want what you had. you were lucky.
anxiety, then acute stress, then ptsd are diagnosed. i scream in my sorority’s storage room and pray to anything that i can get my shit together before the next inoffensive pregnancy joke is witnessed.
he is there. he has always been. he assures me all will be ok, after all, I am lucky.
then, he is gone. he leaves as the right to choose leaves this country. he sobs in my arms, remarking that he is a monster. no. i am the monster. i stole the luck from you.
no words to be said after that.
I am so lucky.
My home state allowed me to make this decision.
I am so lucky.
I’ve had access to mental healthcare after the fact.
I am so lucky.
My partner was supportive at the time.
I am so lucky.
My rights were federal, upheld by the highest court in the nation.
I was so lucky.
