Blogging for Choice (A Day Late)
When I was 14, our church youth group made a field trip to Washington, DC to march on the Capitol and show our support for the anti-abortion movement. I was, at the time, a staunch advocate of the sinfulness and evil of abortion. It wasn't ever going to be MY problem, because *I* was going to wait until I was married. I wouldn't HAVE to be in the position of those heathen sluts, who should be forced to carry the results of their fornication like bulging scarlet letters in their tummies. It was what they deserved, really.
Even when I got to college, and I had shed all ties to Biblical morality (or even common sense, although that's a subject for another post), my essential view didn't change. Abortion was wrong, and I wouldn't have to worry about it, because it would never happen to me.
When I was 19, I was raped.
Afterwards, as I was dragging myself back to my dorm and trying to put myself back together, it occurred to me that abortion was now an immediate and very, very personal issue. I went to the student health center and told them that I had had unprotected sex with my boyfriend the night before and was worried about getting pregnant (I never reported the rape. I was drunk, and had something of a reputation, so I had no illusions about how that would come out. I also wanted no part of reliving the experience during a trial). They dispatched me with two packs of birth control pills and instructions on how to take them to force me to bleed.
I sat on the edge of my bed, with the little pink box of pills in my hand. I took them. I bled.
I had no question but that it was the right thing to do, for me, right then.
And I never want another woman to be forced to choose otherwise.
Even when I got to college, and I had shed all ties to Biblical morality (or even common sense, although that's a subject for another post), my essential view didn't change. Abortion was wrong, and I wouldn't have to worry about it, because it would never happen to me.
When I was 19, I was raped.
Afterwards, as I was dragging myself back to my dorm and trying to put myself back together, it occurred to me that abortion was now an immediate and very, very personal issue. I went to the student health center and told them that I had had unprotected sex with my boyfriend the night before and was worried about getting pregnant (I never reported the rape. I was drunk, and had something of a reputation, so I had no illusions about how that would come out. I also wanted no part of reliving the experience during a trial). They dispatched me with two packs of birth control pills and instructions on how to take them to force me to bleed.
I sat on the edge of my bed, with the little pink box of pills in my hand. I took them. I bled.
I had no question but that it was the right thing to do, for me, right then.
And I never want another woman to be forced to choose otherwise.
posted by ilse at 7:45 PM
3 Comments:
AMEN.
my roommate in college/childhood best friend got pregnant from a rape. it was horrifying, but thank god she had an option.
Excellent post, Ilse. I'm sorry you had to go through that.
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