My stomach dropped when I saw the headlines, and I swallowed hard to keep my lunch down.
Roe v. Wade had been overturned.
For years, James and I struggled to conceive a child, and we wondered about the possibility of pursuing alternative methods. I knew it was a long and possibly painful process, and as a woman in my late thirties, I'd be at risk for a bevy of medical concerns connected to (wince) geriatric pregnancies. Some friends who had gone through the same process would bounce a happy baby on their knee and crow about how it was all worth it. Others dropped their voices, their eyes flitting to their son or daughter to make sure children were out of earshot. Then, they murmured in low tones about making proactive decisions with their doctors about “mom’s life or the baby’s.”
Most aspiring mothers don’t want to hear these things, let alone think about them. They’d rather imagine first steps, nappies, and yes, even diaper changes. But as a scientist, and as the self-crowned Queen of Preparedness, I wanted to go into things with eyes wide open.
But now, here was another potential wrench in the process to consider.
We live in Georgia, where the reds still have it. Since reading the headlines, it’s been hard to not imagine some conservative lawmaker - probably a male - rubbing his hands together with fresh glee, ready to drum up new ways to control the procreating rights of their state's female residents. While I, one of said residents, worriedly wondered about all the way things might go wrong.
Was I ready to make my husband a single father? If things came down to that, would our Southern doctors shake their heads morosely as they claimed their hands were tied?
And can I tell you one of my largest, most secret fears? I've spent my whole life fearing men. Men on the streets, men on subways, men in dark corners and parking lots. No one had to teach me; just being born a girl was enough. And for the longest time, I'd have gasping nightmares about being raped and left with a living souvenir of my trauma.
But, I’d remind myself, I wouldn’t have to. And whenever old church friends and believers emblazoned their Instagram feeds with fiery pro-life retweets and Bible verses, I wondered if they ever had the same nightmares. Or if they even cared to hear about mine.
I believe in the sanctity of life. I believe that children must be protected, at all costs. And if ever I have the privilege of hearing a muffled heartbeat in a doctor’s office, you can bet your most prized earthly possessions that I’d walk through fire and hell water to save that child.
But now that I’m not sure if my people and my government would do that for me, fresh doubt has filled my mind about whether to go through with any of this.
What American adult hasn't - at some point in their lives - watched the news with furrowed brows and wondered why our government hasn't done a better job of taking care of its people? In what way have they satisfactorily provided for the disenfranchised, the young mother, the homeless, and the orphan child? It boggles my mind that this is now the same government that we have appointed to abolish the right to say 'No, I'm not ready to care for this child." We’ve blithely chosen to swing pro-life without adequate structures to actually support those lives.
I have no answers. Only questions and a grave concern for women and families who now face some incredibly difficult decisions because one was made for them. I know I have the privilege to say ‘no’ before any of this comes to be. I can opt out, because there’s nothing in my womb. But what of a woman who didn’t get a chance to say ‘no’? What if a man made that choice for her?
So for now, I’m choosing to bide my time. I used to think that the decision to conceive and bear a child was ours and our family’s alone. But now that these new meddling hands have a say, I’m not so sure about anything anymore. There are now so many pressing implications on decisions that used to be deeply personal. What's worse, it hurts my heart to think that there are frightened young women out there who don't get to enjoy this privilege of deciding what to do with their lives.
Depending on where they live, their fates will soon be sealed for them.