The Pink Fabric Clown
I first saw the pink fabric clown from my perch on the windowsill of my hospital room, where I sat, against the wishes of the nurses and my mother, waving down two stories below to my father, brother, and grandmother.
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“I Would Lose Everything”
My boyfriend and I were both pre-med students, about five years after the Roe v. Wade decision. We were studying for the MCAT. I was using a diaphragm for contraception.
I was, admittedly, a knucklehead, but boys can be knuckleheads in this arena without much in the way of consequences, while girls cannot afford to take chances. Right around the time that I realized that my boyfriend didn’t really love me, my period was late.
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“I Never Thought I Would”
I was a high school sophomore when the Roe v. Wade decision was announced. Throughout high school, college and medical school, I was a feminist and supported a woman’s right to bodily autonomy, but I only knew one story. That story involved a young woman who knew that she was not mature enough to parent a child or a woman who needed to finish her education in order to have a future livable wage.
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Three Fallacies and One Card
Before I decided to apply to medical school, my father said, “Pam, you should become a doctor. You’ll have a lifelong skill, help people, and be your own boss. Hang out your shingle, and then you’re in business.” I nodded, trying to envision the words on my potential shingle.
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Look Me in the Eye
I was new.
Seventeen days earlier, a discerning pediatrician had recommended tests to untangle my five-year-old son’s cluster of puzzling symptoms—headache, vomiting and double vision. The alarmed face of the radiation technician in the booth during the CT scan was my introduction to a world where I didn’t know the rules, the language or what was expected of me.
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The Freedom of No
“Are you sleeping with her?” my boss asked his second-in-command, the man who’d hired me. The question was asked about me, in front of me. In front of everybody at work.
He offered to move me laterally—neither up nor down, but sideways, to a different job. At his side.
Tough But Fair Decisions
Prior to going to medical school, I worked part-time as a nurse practitioner for Planned Parenthood with a kind, caring, and responsible group of women. We provided counseling and classes on various contraceptive methods, basic gynecologic care, pregnancy and STD testing, and private counseling for abortions.
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A Paradigm Shift
Even in the best of circumstances—having access to good healthcare, financial stability, and a committed spouse to share in parenting responsibilities—bringing a child into the world can seem overwhelming. And only the woman bears the physical discomfort and pain of nine months of pregnancy and a painful delivery and recovery. Oh, and did I mention the shifting hormones, postpartum depression, and breastfeeding? Childbirth is not for the faint of heart.
A Painful Decision, Without Regrets
Twenty years ago, I became pregnant after having a condom break during sex with my then-boyfriend. This, despite also taking the morning-after pill. I learned about the unwanted pregnancy two weeks after graduating from college and three months before I was scheduled to leave the country for work as a Peace Corps Volunteer.
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When they ask how he died I tell them
he found the gate unlatched,
crossed the downy path
into the volant field,
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