I’m pro choice. I always have been. I have had one of those in the trenches motherhoods that taught me not everyone is cut out to be a parent and it’s not a decision that should ever be forced on anyone.
When I was a teenager, my mom gave me a book on Christian abstinence, but also made sure I got birth control if I needed it at the doctor. I had boyfriends, and I didn’t always practice abstinence. I had tried every temporary form of birth control available before I finished high school. With the amount of time I spent peeing on a stick, it’s miraculous that none of those tests were positive until Kid1, 8 years after losing my virginity and after getting married.
I think back to the possible fathers in my expression of experimental irresponsibility and I’m grateful that I never had to face a pregnancy with the boys that were all ephemeral ideals of lust with hope for love. It was usually infatuation. I liked the boys that liked me back, and it’s only in my late 30’s that I realize how much better it feels to be selective and picky.
When I imagine what life would have been as a teenaged mother . . . In a relationship that was built on teenage hormones . . . During a time when I was unable to take care of myself. . . A pregnancy created out of irresponsibility is what I escaped and I’m so grateful I never had to choose when I was unable to make a decision from a place of empowerment. In my youth I was never put in a position to have to choose. That only came once I was married.
I never had anyone force their decision for my fertility on me. The parts considered private have always been under my control. I couldn’t imagine the way I would feel about a pregnancy resulting from incest or rape. Still, we have politicians trying to use “Beauty from Ashes” as a natural consequence disguised as a euphemism to help stomach the idea of being brutalized and further victimized by legislation enforced by men who will never experience the consequences of their control. Thank you George Faught.
It’s not just a financial decision. It’s emotional. It’s religious and ethical. It becomes physical and affects families. No one person’s ideals should force itself on people they will never meet.
I would want the women I love to be able to choose when or how she has a child. I would want her to feel safe and protected in making choices for her body. I say this but as for me and my body, I’m pro life.
When I was pregnant with Kid3, I felt extremely lonely. My poor OB doctor stood uncomfortably as I sobbed and contemplated a late term abortion over several appointments. Late at night I would sit on the floor next to my sleeping husband and cry. My son would kick and remind me of how much he wanted to live, and so he did. My reward has been his light and love and hope. He has inspired me and encouraged me with his sweet smile and the way his tiny arms would wrap around me for a hug, patting my shoulder with his tiny hand. I made the decision then, that any child trying to fight for life within me, would have every opportunity I could offer.
The test of your belief is how firmly you stand on your word as difficulties and finances assert their authority over you. When you say you believe in life, do you put your money where your mouth is? Do you pass judgement from the high tower of the distance you keep from your own life? If you found a young mother in need, would you try to support her with a kind word, or anything she might need?
A pregnancy for me would involve daily injections of blood thinners and be high risk. I know this. My last pregnancy delivered prematurely. I’m 39 this year. The risk of birth defects jumps with that 50% fertility drop once a woman hits 40. My youngest is 10 and I have long gotten rid of all baby gear and maternity clothes. I would need a bigger car for my minor children. All of this said, my personal stance is pro life. A child trying to stick to my womb deserves every chance I could offer it, but the point is, it’s a choice I would make, no matter the cost.
A woman should have the option to do as she chooses with her body.