Given my struggle to get pregnant, I suppose it was only expected that I found it so hard to become unpregnant, too. Several months after my D and C, I am still “pregnant.”
Because of Roe v. Wade, and because of Rosie’s death, I am able to sit here and write this. I am able to accomplish what Rosie had planned for herself and have become a teacher. Because of Rosie, I can dream bigger, travel farther, educate others, and help people experiencing an abortion as their abortion doula.
I first became aware of abortion around the same time I became aware of many things related to sex and sexuality – during puberty. At the time, abortion represented survival to me. As a little brown girl from the Bronx, I knew what the statistics said about girls like me and our chances of “success.” If I knew one thing, I knew this: I was not going to come home and tell my mother that I was pregnant.
Reproductive choice is our right and also our responsibility, an awesome responsibility. But in an even more profound sense, choice is the human condition. It defines us as humans, and we are in turn defined by the choices we make. Choice is the basis of morality after all, and it is sacrifice as much as it is freedom.
In the ideal, the concept of choice for American women would be the inalienable right to the full array of life opportunities and the right to bodily autonomy.
On the 37th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, when I envision a world where women and men have true freedom of choice, I see a society that believes that a woman is smart and capable enough to decide what is best for herself and her family.
The term “choice” has had many critics from within the movement often referred to as, ahem, “pro-choice.”
Here are the reasons why choice is important to me. Alphabetically.