Thu, 2009-01-22 15:32

In my entire life I’ve only had one pregnancy scare.**

In my entire life I’ve only once had sex with a partner with the result that she and I were afraid she was pregnant.**

But then in my entire life I’ve only (knowingly) had unprotected, fertile PIV intercourse to ejaculation twice when pregnancy wasn’t a desired outcome.

The two times were before I was 20.

The first time was before the Roe v. Wade decision was handed down, the other was after. One was when my partner and I were still teenagers, still jobless, still living at home, still in high-school. The second time we were both of age, both living on our own, both with good support networks.

Murphy’s Law would demand that the scare happened the first time. And so it did.

There were no morning after pills back then. No pee-on-a-stick pregnancy tests. One could get a pregnancy check but it cost hundreds of early-1970s dollars, had to be conducted in a clinic, involved (literally) killing a rabbit, and took up to a couple of weeks to get the results back… and time back then was a critical factor because…

Abortion was legal in only two places in the United States: Washington, D.C., where it was legal up to 12 weeks, and New York State where it was legal up to 24 weeks.

We lived in the southern Appalachian mountains.

A little more than half a year later Roe v. Wade was the law of the land, and since the anti-abortion movement took years to take hold my partner could have gotten a vacuum extraction, or even a D&C, in a matter of weeks at the local public health department. But when we needed it most… it wasn’t yet there.

Plans were discussed. Tears were shed. Friends were quietly contacted and hit up for favors and loans. Arrangements were made… a cover story about an “overnight camping trip” with friends for her, covert transportation to Washington… if we could make it inside the 12-week limit… backup plans, excuses, more tears — not about the pregnancy so much but what would happen if our parents found out.

Six or seven weeks after her period was due it came. “Late” we called it back then. “Early miscarriage” is what it almost certainly was. A quiet celebration ensued. And we agreed she should probably retire her previous preferred term for her period: “the curse.”

Today is Blog for Choice Day. Thirty-six years ago today the Supreme Court changed all that. And while I never intentionally risked pregnancy with someone again while sober (and only once when not… with someone who was sober and who I could trust when she assured me she was nowhere near ovulating) that has not been the case for millions of couples young and old, prepared and unprepared, careful and heedless, bonded for life or little more than strangers in the night. And for all of those Roe has been there.

It might not always have been.

It’s tempting to say that a twice-taken inauguration oath was the turning of a once-rising tide Roe. Tempting because it might even be true. But…

Funny thing about temptation is… that’s why, that first time, a partner and I nearly needed Roe to be there. And remembering that temptation, and remembering so vividly what heterosexuality was like before Roe… I’m going to say why leave anything to chance?

No woman, young or old, should have to go through what my partner went through thirty six and a half years ago. No man, young or old, should have to go through what I went through.

And while I share, passionately, President Obama’s reaffirmed commitment to avoiding the need for abortion through

“...prevent unintended pregnancies, reduce the need for abortion and support women and families in the choices they make,” Obama said. “To accomplish these goals, we must work to find common ground to expand access to affordable contraception, accurate health information and preventative services.

Source: Associated Press

I’m also grateful for the President’s affirmative declaration that

“On this anniversary, we must also recommit ourselves more broadly to ensuring that our daughters have the same rights and opportunities as our sons: the chance to attain a world-class education; to have fulfilling careers in any industry; to be treated fairly and paid equally for their work and to have no limits on their dreams.”

Good for him. And good for us for pushing him. And good for us for pushing Congress. And good for us for pushing each other to reach this point.

But if the tide of anti-abortion activism has turned it’s still high. Very high. The Justice who bobbled administering the Presidental oath is young. He controls a close majority of similarly young, anti-choice colleagues. And he still has the power to cause further mischief even if he can’t sustain an outright overthrow of Roe.

And if the tide has of anti-abortion activism has turned it’s still high. Too high in whole time zones in America, whole states, whole regions where a trip to the nearest, still-heavily-guarded clinic may be more hours away than Washington D.C. was from southern Appalachia. Whole counties where peer pressure prohibits pharmacists from exercising authentic conscience and offering emergency contraception… or even non-emergency contraception such as hormonal birth control pills or even condoms. And there are still clinics where disgracefully disingenuous healthcare “professionals” claim they’re only “accidentally” removing women’s IUDs.

So yeah, good to all of us for pushing, sure, and good for the President for committing his administration to that push. But the work’s not done, it’s barely begun. And might still be undone. The more pressure we bring to bear the greater the odds the work will be done well.

Happy anniversary, Roe.

[** A little less than 37 years ago my partner became pregnant when we had intercourse or at least we believed her to be. It was her pregnancy. I was scared for my partner and for myself. This post is not about her pregnancy but a reflection on my experience of it, of it’s consequences, of how the political landscape has changed since then, and about how I feel about those changes. My apologies if I created any other impressions. —fl]