abortion
I have to say that I was inspired by the only person to befriend me here on LJ so far,
milksquid. (And hey - I've only been on LJ for a few weeks, so even just one friend ain't so bad.) She raised the discussion over on her own journal. The main reason I'm not answering her there is because the post itself is over 10 days old. So I thought I'd do my own post about it, and save her from having comments way too late in the game.
(And please, feel free to comment here if you'd like. I welcome comments - as long as they are respectfully written. Flaming, or plain old asshole-ish comments I will delete in a heartbeat.)
I like to think of myself as a pro-life/pro-choice - er. I believe that abortion should never be illegal, in any circumstances (I do have a problem with certain types of abortion - the methods used - though). But, I don't think it's the right thing to do. Not only for the sake of the baby, though - for the sake of the mother. Every person I know who has had an abortion - after a while - regrets what they've done. It fills them with guilt. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. But I don't think that my opinion - or anybody else's, for that matter - should be enough to allow me to tell someone what they can and can't do with their own body. I don't have the right to do that.
But, I wanted to explain where I'm coming from. I come from a close-knit but far-reaching working class family. I grew up in the Midwest of the U.S. - less than 30 miles southwest of Chicago. I was raised by my grandmother, whom I call 'Mom,' in a single-parent household (my grandparents divorced when I was 7, before I went to live with my grandmother for the final time). In some respects, I raised myself, as 'Mom' had to work several jobs just to keep us afloat. My aunts and uncles like to complain that I was 'spoiled,' but I disagree. I did get pretty much everything I wanted growing up, but it wasn't like it was handed to me on a silver platter. I would sometimes have to wait years while 'Mom' worked her ass off to get me whatever it was I'd asked for (depending on what that thing was, of course). They also seem to forget that they grew up in a house of 7 (2 parents + 5 kids). It was a hell of a lot easier for 'Mom' to give me what I'd asked for when I was the only one doing the asking, even when money was so much tighter for us than it had been when she raised her own kids. I grew up understanding that sometimes, life was hard, but you had to do everything in your power to make it work or it never would. I understood that my actions had consequences, and sometimes they were farther reaching than you would originally think. (Obviously there's a lot of stuff I'm not saying, but I don't think now is the time.)
And I was never naive. I knew what sex was before I even knew what sex was (if that makes any sense). I didn't know the importance of what I knew, but I knew that I knew it. And I was lucky, in the sense that *I* brought up the subject of sex with 'Mom,' and she was willing to continue the discussion. We both tried to be very open about the subject, both so she wouldn't feel that I was lying to or keeping secrets from her, and so that I would be as informed as humanly possible. ('Mom' was one of those unfortunate teenagers whose parents never said anything to her, and she ended up pregnant with my father before she even understood how babies were made. She didn't want me going through the same thing she did.) And because we were able to have that kind of dialogue, when the subject of abortion would come up - like if we were watching the news or something - we were able to talk about it.
We were in agreement that we were for abortion, as an abstract idea. Meaning that it shouldn't be against the law for anyone. It should be a viable option. But we didn't think it was the right decision, in most cases. It wasn't something that either of us could imagine doing, and if we knew someone contemplating it, we would probably try to talk them out of it.
And I've remained in that opinion to this day.
But it's not that simple.
I got pregnant with Little Miss Happy Pants when I was 18 - I found out I was pregnant just 5 days after my high school graduation. Despite the fact that 'Mom' and I had established communication on the matter, I found myself unable to tell her. I tried - more times than I could count - but I couldn't get myself to physically form the words and spit them out. (Part of it stems from one of my aunts - she got pregnant at 16, and I grew up hearing about how hard she made everyone's life.) So she didn't find out (well... figure out, more like; she guessed and asked my other aunt, who did know I was pregnant, and had told me that she wouldn't tell anyone, but wouldn't lie for me if asked) until I was well past 4 months along. (This was in 1994, before they made later-term abortions legal.) When she did find out, and we finally talked about it, she said that she wished she had known earlier, because she would have paid for me to have an abortion.
I recoiled in horror.
We had talked about it, and I couldn't believe that suddenly she was turning around and saying the exact opposite of what she'd been saying all along. It was a moot point, of course, but that didn't change the shock and horror I felt at her saying those words to me.
Fast forward two years, and I'm pregnant again. I had thought I was going to marry the baby's father - we'd lived together and he'd given me an engagement ring. But it didn't work out (okay, that's putting it mildly), and I found myself pregnant and alone. By this time, the extent of Little Miss Happy Pants's disabilities were just beginning to come to light, and I found myself in a precarious position. Alone, with a disabled child, and pregnant by a man who suddenly decided three days after telling him that I was pregnant with the child he'd wanted me to have, that he didn't want me anymore. On the one side was my family; people who meant well by saying "you should have an abortion in case this child's just like LMHP." On the other side was my own conscience and the knowledge that aborting a child "just in case" wasn't just wrong, it was stupidity incarnate.
I couldn't do that to my own child, just in case it turned out to have the same problems Little Miss Happy Pants does. I loved her with all of my heart, so I knew that I would love this child too, regardless.
Three years later, I found myself contemplating it again. I had just married The Hubster and within five months of the wedding, I found out I was pregnant. The timing couldn't have been much worse. We were living with 'Mom' and I was the only one working. We had discussed possibly having another child, but the plan was to wait a year or two, to let us find our feet first. We were using contraception, too! The first two times I got pregnant, that hadn't been the case (so I pretty much figured I got what I deserved). We were actively trying not to get pregnant, and yet we did anyway. So it wasn't the best news. I worried about what we were going to do. We wanted out of 'Mom's' house, she wanted us out so bad she could taste it, and with me being the only one working at the time, how in the hell would we afford a bigger family?
It ended up working out - we moved when I was about 6 months along, The Hubster got his work permit and got a job, and it ended up being a very happy event indeed (that was Little Miss Talks-a-lot). But we (and I say we, because stuff like this The Hubster and I talked about, extensively) definitely considered not going through with the pregnancy. It wasn't something we wanted to think about, but in the situation we found ourselves in, it would have been stupid of us not to consider it.
And it happened again two years after that, in 2001. Little Miss Talks-a-lot was just about to have her first birthday when I found out I was pregnant yet again. Yet again, The Hubster and I were using contraception. I often joked to him that we should buy stock in Durex, just so that we could get some of our money back.
I panicked. What the hell were we going to do? We were struggling with three kids (by this time he'd gotten his work permit revoked [through their own error], so I was the only one working). I was making enough to support us, but only just barely. I worried how another child was going to affect all of us. I knew that some people have given children up for adoption because they simply couldn't afford to care for them. I didn't want to have to be in that position. So again, I found myself seriously considering abortion for the fourth time.
I never thought I'd be in a position where I'd even consider having an abortion, and yet I found myself contemplating it not once or twice, but four times.
Some of the responses over at
milksquid's journal said something to the effect of "if you don't want to keep the baby, put it up for adoption." While there are some people out there that are willing to adopt a cute newborn baby, there are times when your baby just isn't the right fit and ends up in foster care. And regardless of the level of care in foster care (some are good, some are horrid), usually when your baby gets into foster care, they never get out. There are millions of children in the United States alone that want desperately to be adopted - even young toddlers are being dismissed as potential adoptees - but are left languishing in foster care. I'm not saying that adoption isn't possible; not by any means. What I am saying is that it shouldn't be a blanket answer for every single person considering abortion. It ain't all it's cracked up to be.
And that's why I call myself a pro-life/pro choice. Although, I guess the fact that even a little bit of me is pro-life makes me pro-choice. Because I believe that you should have the choice - even if that choice is to "choose life" as the pro-lifers like to say. To make a valid, informed choice and not be forced into it. Regardless of what that choice is. The fact is, we make choices every day. Some good, some not so good. And sometimes, something that seems like such an innocuous choice can have far-reaching consequences. Every choice carries a level of risk, but that shouldn't be the reason that some people would tell other people that they can't make that choice for themselves.
milksquid. (And hey - I've only been on LJ for a few weeks, so even just one friend ain't so bad.) She raised the discussion over on her own journal. The main reason I'm not answering her there is because the post itself is over 10 days old. So I thought I'd do my own post about it, and save her from having comments way too late in the game.
(And please, feel free to comment here if you'd like. I welcome comments - as long as they are respectfully written. Flaming, or plain old asshole-ish comments I will delete in a heartbeat.)
I like to think of myself as a pro-life/pro-choice - er. I believe that abortion should never be illegal, in any circumstances (I do have a problem with certain types of abortion - the methods used - though). But, I don't think it's the right thing to do. Not only for the sake of the baby, though - for the sake of the mother. Every person I know who has had an abortion - after a while - regrets what they've done. It fills them with guilt. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. But I don't think that my opinion - or anybody else's, for that matter - should be enough to allow me to tell someone what they can and can't do with their own body. I don't have the right to do that.
But, I wanted to explain where I'm coming from. I come from a close-knit but far-reaching working class family. I grew up in the Midwest of the U.S. - less than 30 miles southwest of Chicago. I was raised by my grandmother, whom I call 'Mom,' in a single-parent household (my grandparents divorced when I was 7, before I went to live with my grandmother for the final time). In some respects, I raised myself, as 'Mom' had to work several jobs just to keep us afloat. My aunts and uncles like to complain that I was 'spoiled,' but I disagree. I did get pretty much everything I wanted growing up, but it wasn't like it was handed to me on a silver platter. I would sometimes have to wait years while 'Mom' worked her ass off to get me whatever it was I'd asked for (depending on what that thing was, of course). They also seem to forget that they grew up in a house of 7 (2 parents + 5 kids). It was a hell of a lot easier for 'Mom' to give me what I'd asked for when I was the only one doing the asking, even when money was so much tighter for us than it had been when she raised her own kids. I grew up understanding that sometimes, life was hard, but you had to do everything in your power to make it work or it never would. I understood that my actions had consequences, and sometimes they were farther reaching than you would originally think. (Obviously there's a lot of stuff I'm not saying, but I don't think now is the time.)
And I was never naive. I knew what sex was before I even knew what sex was (if that makes any sense). I didn't know the importance of what I knew, but I knew that I knew it. And I was lucky, in the sense that *I* brought up the subject of sex with 'Mom,' and she was willing to continue the discussion. We both tried to be very open about the subject, both so she wouldn't feel that I was lying to or keeping secrets from her, and so that I would be as informed as humanly possible. ('Mom' was one of those unfortunate teenagers whose parents never said anything to her, and she ended up pregnant with my father before she even understood how babies were made. She didn't want me going through the same thing she did.) And because we were able to have that kind of dialogue, when the subject of abortion would come up - like if we were watching the news or something - we were able to talk about it.
We were in agreement that we were for abortion, as an abstract idea. Meaning that it shouldn't be against the law for anyone. It should be a viable option. But we didn't think it was the right decision, in most cases. It wasn't something that either of us could imagine doing, and if we knew someone contemplating it, we would probably try to talk them out of it.
And I've remained in that opinion to this day.
But it's not that simple.
I got pregnant with Little Miss Happy Pants when I was 18 - I found out I was pregnant just 5 days after my high school graduation. Despite the fact that 'Mom' and I had established communication on the matter, I found myself unable to tell her. I tried - more times than I could count - but I couldn't get myself to physically form the words and spit them out. (Part of it stems from one of my aunts - she got pregnant at 16, and I grew up hearing about how hard she made everyone's life.) So she didn't find out (well... figure out, more like; she guessed and asked my other aunt, who did know I was pregnant, and had told me that she wouldn't tell anyone, but wouldn't lie for me if asked) until I was well past 4 months along. (This was in 1994, before they made later-term abortions legal.) When she did find out, and we finally talked about it, she said that she wished she had known earlier, because she would have paid for me to have an abortion.
I recoiled in horror.
We had talked about it, and I couldn't believe that suddenly she was turning around and saying the exact opposite of what she'd been saying all along. It was a moot point, of course, but that didn't change the shock and horror I felt at her saying those words to me.
Fast forward two years, and I'm pregnant again. I had thought I was going to marry the baby's father - we'd lived together and he'd given me an engagement ring. But it didn't work out (okay, that's putting it mildly), and I found myself pregnant and alone. By this time, the extent of Little Miss Happy Pants's disabilities were just beginning to come to light, and I found myself in a precarious position. Alone, with a disabled child, and pregnant by a man who suddenly decided three days after telling him that I was pregnant with the child he'd wanted me to have, that he didn't want me anymore. On the one side was my family; people who meant well by saying "you should have an abortion in case this child's just like LMHP." On the other side was my own conscience and the knowledge that aborting a child "just in case" wasn't just wrong, it was stupidity incarnate.
I couldn't do that to my own child, just in case it turned out to have the same problems Little Miss Happy Pants does. I loved her with all of my heart, so I knew that I would love this child too, regardless.
Three years later, I found myself contemplating it again. I had just married The Hubster and within five months of the wedding, I found out I was pregnant. The timing couldn't have been much worse. We were living with 'Mom' and I was the only one working. We had discussed possibly having another child, but the plan was to wait a year or two, to let us find our feet first. We were using contraception, too! The first two times I got pregnant, that hadn't been the case (so I pretty much figured I got what I deserved). We were actively trying not to get pregnant, and yet we did anyway. So it wasn't the best news. I worried about what we were going to do. We wanted out of 'Mom's' house, she wanted us out so bad she could taste it, and with me being the only one working at the time, how in the hell would we afford a bigger family?
It ended up working out - we moved when I was about 6 months along, The Hubster got his work permit and got a job, and it ended up being a very happy event indeed (that was Little Miss Talks-a-lot). But we (and I say we, because stuff like this The Hubster and I talked about, extensively) definitely considered not going through with the pregnancy. It wasn't something we wanted to think about, but in the situation we found ourselves in, it would have been stupid of us not to consider it.
And it happened again two years after that, in 2001. Little Miss Talks-a-lot was just about to have her first birthday when I found out I was pregnant yet again. Yet again, The Hubster and I were using contraception. I often joked to him that we should buy stock in Durex, just so that we could get some of our money back.
I panicked. What the hell were we going to do? We were struggling with three kids (by this time he'd gotten his work permit revoked [through their own error], so I was the only one working). I was making enough to support us, but only just barely. I worried how another child was going to affect all of us. I knew that some people have given children up for adoption because they simply couldn't afford to care for them. I didn't want to have to be in that position. So again, I found myself seriously considering abortion for the fourth time.
I never thought I'd be in a position where I'd even consider having an abortion, and yet I found myself contemplating it not once or twice, but four times.
Some of the responses over at
milksquid's journal said something to the effect of "if you don't want to keep the baby, put it up for adoption." While there are some people out there that are willing to adopt a cute newborn baby, there are times when your baby just isn't the right fit and ends up in foster care. And regardless of the level of care in foster care (some are good, some are horrid), usually when your baby gets into foster care, they never get out. There are millions of children in the United States alone that want desperately to be adopted - even young toddlers are being dismissed as potential adoptees - but are left languishing in foster care. I'm not saying that adoption isn't possible; not by any means. What I am saying is that it shouldn't be a blanket answer for every single person considering abortion. It ain't all it's cracked up to be.
And that's why I call myself a pro-life/pro choice. Although, I guess the fact that even a little bit of me is pro-life makes me pro-choice. Because I believe that you should have the choice - even if that choice is to "choose life" as the pro-lifers like to say. To make a valid, informed choice and not be forced into it. Regardless of what that choice is. The fact is, we make choices every day. Some good, some not so good. And sometimes, something that seems like such an innocuous choice can have far-reaching consequences. Every choice carries a level of risk, but that shouldn't be the reason that some people would tell other people that they can't make that choice for themselves.