In the news...
So, apparently a wingnut in Iran is convinced that scantily-clad women lead to earthquakes. Go figure. And Leonard Nimoy is officially retiring from show business (so he will no longer dress up as Spock, even for fan conventions).
And, Roe v. Wade is seeing some new challengers. Here in Nebraska, new legislation has passed banning abortions post 20 weeks. There's no exemption for maternal mental health, but at least the only ones who would be subject to prosecution would be the doctors who perform the procedures, not the mothers. In Oklahoma, legislation has passed requiring stricter screenings for women seeking abortions in case they "may suffer physical or psychological problems" following the procedure--something also being done in Nebraska.
What occurs to me is that I sincerely doubt that any of the legislators or the people screaming bloody murder for pro-life causes have ever been any closer to an abortion clinic than picketing outside of it or knowing a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend who may have gone through it. Actually, this is probably true of most people.
Now, to be perfectly clear, I am staunchly pro-choice. This is not to say that I think abortions are a good thing, however. I would be very pleased if another abortion never had to happen--I just know better than to believe that as a remotely realistic scenario. Keep in mind that I personally have been through a miscarriage, a live birth (my son, Adrian, now aged three and a half whom I've kept) AND a willful termination of a pregnancy, I am adoptee from birth through a closed adoption (having never knowingly met any of my blood relatives aside from my offspring), and one of my oldest and dearest friends was adopted after many years in foster and state care--I actually attended her adoption ceremony. So, I'd like to think that I have a uniquely qualified view of the subject in all its possibilities.
The 20-weeks rule is bothersome in that this is the period usually when the mother can start feeling the fetal movements--but a lot of things are not clear until this point or sometime thereafter. Things like, say, spina bifida. Early in development, it's not always easy to tell if it's just part of the development process or an actual problem. It's not something you'd be able to test for just through amniocentesis. Problems with multiples usually don't start manifesting until approximately the 20th week either. And, something a lot of people don't realize is that late-term abortions aren't usually something that is done because the mother WANTS to--it's because, for whatever reason, it's become necessary. Most voluntary abortions are done by the twelfth week. So, yes, I find this a troubling thing, since, basically, if you get late-developing problems, which can become very serious for both mother and baby, this bill screws you over royally, because you HAVE to carry to term. Even if it kills you.
As for the tighter screenings for women seeking terminations... I find it an unnecessary measure. Let me tell you what it's actually like at an abortion clinic, and you'll see what I mean.
For starters, the employees will advise you to come in early if you can. The employees are very nice, and do everything with sincere, soft tones. Some try to joke with you if you're receptive, but mostly they just speak gently and quietly. The waiting room fills up pretty quickly. Yet, even with the waiting room packed, it's quiet. Some people may be talking amongst themselves, because almost no one goes in alone. You can't if you're there for an abortion. They're there with parents, siblings, best friends and/or their partners. Sometimes even teenaged children of their own (no little kids allowed, obviously). Not everyone is there for an abortion, of course. Some are there to confirm a pregnancy or get prenatal care. Some are there for other health services. But, still, it's quiet. Some are reading. Some listen to music. Some just sit there and think. Or cry. No one is smiling. No one actually WANTS to be there, but they have to be, for whatever reasons have brought them there. You do a lot of waiting--especially if you're there for an abortion.
If that's what brings you there, you first spend time filling out forms and remitting payment. Not only basic medical history information, but also a page-long questionnaire on why you're there and why you want to terminate the pregnancy. After you turn it in, you wait until they call your name. You'll have to take a pregnancy test to prove you're actually pregnant. Then you wait until they complete the urinalysis. Soon, your name is called again. That's when they do the ultrasound, mostly just to verify the fetus's stage of development. If you're past about fifteen weeks, they probably won't do it anyway. The technician asks you if you want to see the ultrasound. You have the option to say "yes" or "no," and they'll even offer to print out a picture of the ultrasound to keep if you want one. After the ultrasound, then you go out and wait some more. The third time your name is called, you go in for your consultation, where they confirm the stage of development with you, and try to determine if an abortion is really what you want, or if you're being forced into it or if there's a better option for you. So, you see that the screening process is already in place. After the consultation, you go and wait some more. Anesthesia is given in one of two ways: either a handful of pills or else an IV drip. If you opt for the pills, the fourth time your name is called, you get a mini-physical to determine weight and blood pressure, and then they give you the pills. It's just the mini-physical if you opt for the IV--which may not even be an option if the IV person isn't there. Then you wait as the medication gets time to kick in. Finally, your name is called one more time, and that's when you meet the physician. You climb on the table and try to relax as they go to work. Sometimes they'll do a dilation and curettage, where they effectively scoop you out like a Halloween jack-o-lantern with what looks like an ice cream spoon. Or else they do it by what looks suspiciously like a shop vac. It doesn't hurt, per se, but it's a strange sensation. Like being tickled from the inside. If you look, you can see the drainage and/or suction tube is colored red. No tissue bits can be identified--it all just looks like blood. After about fifteen or twenty minutes, it's over. They give you a pad and you head off to recovery. Recovery is actually pretty nice. You sit in a comfy chair, and you can have heated blankets and cookies and juice or water. While you sit there, they review with you your post-procedure care instructions, complete with literature for both your care and also for post-abortion support services if you choose to use them. You get some antibiotic pills to ward off any infections to take later. If you request birth control, they'll give you some (in various forms--condoms, pills, whatever) to get started. They tell you how to monitor the blood flow, because you're going to spend the next month bleeding. And six weeks of pelvic rest, meaning NOTHING goes in there, not even a tampon. After the sixth week, you go back for a follow-up check. And that's the proverbial that.
So, while the people there will try to make the experience as comfortable as possible, it's not a pleasant one, really. And, the truth is, women have been trying to terminate unwanted pregnancies for just about as long as they've been getting pregnant. Even in ancient Egypt, there's evidence of various attempts at birth control and, yes, abortions. So, it's not going to ever go away. The important thing is just to make it as safe as possible for those who need to go through it.
And, Roe v. Wade is seeing some new challengers. Here in Nebraska, new legislation has passed banning abortions post 20 weeks. There's no exemption for maternal mental health, but at least the only ones who would be subject to prosecution would be the doctors who perform the procedures, not the mothers. In Oklahoma, legislation has passed requiring stricter screenings for women seeking abortions in case they "may suffer physical or psychological problems" following the procedure--something also being done in Nebraska.
What occurs to me is that I sincerely doubt that any of the legislators or the people screaming bloody murder for pro-life causes have ever been any closer to an abortion clinic than picketing outside of it or knowing a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend who may have gone through it. Actually, this is probably true of most people.
Now, to be perfectly clear, I am staunchly pro-choice. This is not to say that I think abortions are a good thing, however. I would be very pleased if another abortion never had to happen--I just know better than to believe that as a remotely realistic scenario. Keep in mind that I personally have been through a miscarriage, a live birth (my son, Adrian, now aged three and a half whom I've kept) AND a willful termination of a pregnancy, I am adoptee from birth through a closed adoption (having never knowingly met any of my blood relatives aside from my offspring), and one of my oldest and dearest friends was adopted after many years in foster and state care--I actually attended her adoption ceremony. So, I'd like to think that I have a uniquely qualified view of the subject in all its possibilities.
The 20-weeks rule is bothersome in that this is the period usually when the mother can start feeling the fetal movements--but a lot of things are not clear until this point or sometime thereafter. Things like, say, spina bifida. Early in development, it's not always easy to tell if it's just part of the development process or an actual problem. It's not something you'd be able to test for just through amniocentesis. Problems with multiples usually don't start manifesting until approximately the 20th week either. And, something a lot of people don't realize is that late-term abortions aren't usually something that is done because the mother WANTS to--it's because, for whatever reason, it's become necessary. Most voluntary abortions are done by the twelfth week. So, yes, I find this a troubling thing, since, basically, if you get late-developing problems, which can become very serious for both mother and baby, this bill screws you over royally, because you HAVE to carry to term. Even if it kills you.
As for the tighter screenings for women seeking terminations... I find it an unnecessary measure. Let me tell you what it's actually like at an abortion clinic, and you'll see what I mean.
For starters, the employees will advise you to come in early if you can. The employees are very nice, and do everything with sincere, soft tones. Some try to joke with you if you're receptive, but mostly they just speak gently and quietly. The waiting room fills up pretty quickly. Yet, even with the waiting room packed, it's quiet. Some people may be talking amongst themselves, because almost no one goes in alone. You can't if you're there for an abortion. They're there with parents, siblings, best friends and/or their partners. Sometimes even teenaged children of their own (no little kids allowed, obviously). Not everyone is there for an abortion, of course. Some are there to confirm a pregnancy or get prenatal care. Some are there for other health services. But, still, it's quiet. Some are reading. Some listen to music. Some just sit there and think. Or cry. No one is smiling. No one actually WANTS to be there, but they have to be, for whatever reasons have brought them there. You do a lot of waiting--especially if you're there for an abortion.
If that's what brings you there, you first spend time filling out forms and remitting payment. Not only basic medical history information, but also a page-long questionnaire on why you're there and why you want to terminate the pregnancy. After you turn it in, you wait until they call your name. You'll have to take a pregnancy test to prove you're actually pregnant. Then you wait until they complete the urinalysis. Soon, your name is called again. That's when they do the ultrasound, mostly just to verify the fetus's stage of development. If you're past about fifteen weeks, they probably won't do it anyway. The technician asks you if you want to see the ultrasound. You have the option to say "yes" or "no," and they'll even offer to print out a picture of the ultrasound to keep if you want one. After the ultrasound, then you go out and wait some more. The third time your name is called, you go in for your consultation, where they confirm the stage of development with you, and try to determine if an abortion is really what you want, or if you're being forced into it or if there's a better option for you. So, you see that the screening process is already in place. After the consultation, you go and wait some more. Anesthesia is given in one of two ways: either a handful of pills or else an IV drip. If you opt for the pills, the fourth time your name is called, you get a mini-physical to determine weight and blood pressure, and then they give you the pills. It's just the mini-physical if you opt for the IV--which may not even be an option if the IV person isn't there. Then you wait as the medication gets time to kick in. Finally, your name is called one more time, and that's when you meet the physician. You climb on the table and try to relax as they go to work. Sometimes they'll do a dilation and curettage, where they effectively scoop you out like a Halloween jack-o-lantern with what looks like an ice cream spoon. Or else they do it by what looks suspiciously like a shop vac. It doesn't hurt, per se, but it's a strange sensation. Like being tickled from the inside. If you look, you can see the drainage and/or suction tube is colored red. No tissue bits can be identified--it all just looks like blood. After about fifteen or twenty minutes, it's over. They give you a pad and you head off to recovery. Recovery is actually pretty nice. You sit in a comfy chair, and you can have heated blankets and cookies and juice or water. While you sit there, they review with you your post-procedure care instructions, complete with literature for both your care and also for post-abortion support services if you choose to use them. You get some antibiotic pills to ward off any infections to take later. If you request birth control, they'll give you some (in various forms--condoms, pills, whatever) to get started. They tell you how to monitor the blood flow, because you're going to spend the next month bleeding. And six weeks of pelvic rest, meaning NOTHING goes in there, not even a tampon. After the sixth week, you go back for a follow-up check. And that's the proverbial that.
So, while the people there will try to make the experience as comfortable as possible, it's not a pleasant one, really. And, the truth is, women have been trying to terminate unwanted pregnancies for just about as long as they've been getting pregnant. Even in ancient Egypt, there's evidence of various attempts at birth control and, yes, abortions. So, it's not going to ever go away. The important thing is just to make it as safe as possible for those who need to go through it.