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On the Frontline

There are those who speak heatedly about abortion, either for or against, from a distance, their voice hypothetical. There are those who sit with a woman, listen to her story, see her broken heart revealed and hold her hand as she cries, “I can’t have this baby.” And then there are those, truly on the frontline, who perform abortions.

The Making of an Activist

As a medical student, I was covered by my mother’s health insurance plan (thanks, Obama!). At that time, however, her (my) insurance carrier and my university's health system were in the midst of renegotiating their contract--and therefore my insurance was not accepted at the university-affiliated gynecology practice. In need of a pap smear and a refill of my birth control prescription, I turned to Google and found there was a Planned Parenthood clinic within walking distance of my apartment.


It is 1989. My earliest memory of myself is of riding on my dad’s shoulders and holding a placard that reads "Pro-Choice." Chants of "Her Body, Her Choice" reverberate around me. I’m barely four years old, but this is not my first protest. In my family, abortion has never had a question mark after it.

The Lightness of Choice

Abortion was not a concept that played a role in my life. I never imagined that rape would leave me with an unwanted pregnancy; I refused to consider that any future child would face multiple disabilities that might diminish or eliminate his or her quality of life. Instead, I married and, nine months later, found myself pregnant.

Unfortunately, I discovered my pregnancy after getting special vaccinations for a trip to Greece. The doctor feared that one of the shots he had given me might affect the fetus, leading to birth defects in my first child. I remember his looking directly into my eyes and reciting my options: remain pregnant or abort.

An Editor's Invitation: Abortion

This month's More Voices theme is Abortion.

For a long time, we've resisted posting this theme out of concern that it would generate more heat than light--more vitriol than compassion. But recent legislation that would make abortions illegal in Alabama, Georgia, Ohio, Kentucky, Mississippi, Missouri, and now Louisiana has made us think that we need to find a way to broach this subject and talk about it with kindness and respect for one another.

Might we start that conversation by sharing our personal stories about abortion?

I hope so, and I'd like to share two experiences.