"How does a baby come out of its mommy's belly?" 5-year-old Annabel asked me one evening. I always answer such questions clearly and truthfully - if she's old enough to ask, she's old enough to know. I explained how the baby grows in an organ called a uterus (also called womb), and travels through the vagina (also called birth canal), which exits the body between the legs. Annabel thought about that for a moment. "That must really hurt," she said. "Yes, it does," I said simply, as my 20 hours of unmedicated labor and childbirth with her flashed through my brain. She paused another moment. "I don't think I want to be a mommy anymore," she said. This was a shift. Since she was a toddler, she had been saying she wants to be a "[insert-various-professions-here]-mommy" as in a "scientist-mommy," a "destruction worker-mommy," a "ballet dancer-mommy," or a "ballet dancer-doctor-scientist-mommy."
So I thought for a moment before responding to this. "Well, aren't you glad I decided to become a mommy to you and Liana, even though it hurts?"
"Yes..."
"Once the hurt is over, you have a beautiful precious baby to love and nurture for the rest of your life. And also, there are medicines that help with the pain. And sometimes women will even be put to sleep, like with surgery, so they don't feel anything at all."
She thought about it only a brief moment. "I still don't want to have a baby."
"Okay, sweetie. You don't have to have a baby."
This conversation was about a year ago, and so far, her mind hasn't changed. As a then-five and now six year old child, my daughter is already making choices about her body, her health, her family, her future. Of course, she's so young, and those choices are likely to change as she grows older, but whatever they are, her choices are valid and hers alone to make.
When I heard the horrifying news last week it was Tuesday morning and I had to get my daughters ready for school while I was exploding inside. Later that morning, with Andrew and I both working from home, Andrew said "I'm heading to the gym to swim laps." In response, I collapsed to the floor, wailing and screaming uncontrollably. My wails and high-pitched screams became interspersed with unfocused cursing. I pulled myself up off the floor and began slamming doors before sinking to the floor again in convulsions and sobs. My blood pressure sky-rocketed and my head pounded and my whole body shook. I was Not Okay and am still Not Okay. This reaction was not unlike my reaction to the inhumanity in Texas last fall, and so although my frenzied state was somewhat familiar to him, I'm sure Andrew felt helpless, standing there in the kitchen, watching me lose it. Eventually, I stood up and let him hold me and rub my back as my heated body shuddered and I muttered about the fucking misogynists and patriarchy.
But later the next day, as I was about to lose it again - but trying desperately not to, because now the kids were right there - Andrew said something that he's said before, something that really pisses me off each time he says it, but especially so this time. "You and the girls will always be able to get an abortion. We can travel wherever we need to."
I sputtered and madly paced the kitchen, trying to keep it together. "I can't...I can't...I can't even articulate..." I did try, however, to articulate what was so infuriating about being needlessly reminded of our white privilege and how little comfort that brings, but what came out was a largely incoherent jumble. I am frustrated because this is SUCH an important point to convey - what and why I feel as I do, and why my reactions and feelings are completely warranted, justified, and normal (this bears repeating in all caps: WARRENTED, JUSTIFIED, and NORMAL).
Let's start with Reason #1: empathy (empathy: joining and sharing in the emotions and feelings of others). Why should you care that women in Texas/Kentucky/Florida/etc. can't get an abortion or that it might be banned here? We can always go to Maryland or someplace.
Wow. Are you fucking serious? Gee, you're right, Honey! Why should we care about homelessness when we have a house? Why should we care about the hungry when we have food and can blow $150 on a meal without batting an eye? Why should we care about affordable healthcare when our healthcare is great? Why should we care about the poor when we never worry about money? Why should we care about our government taking over the bodily autonomy of some women when ours - I mean, yours - is perfectly secure?
But it's not just about empathy. Let me be honest, actually - I'd like to think that I'm an empathetic person, but really, I'm not the greatest at putting my money and actions where my mouth is (and I have a big mouth). I'm selfish. It's something I need to work on, and I have a long way to go, but for now, let's move on to Reason #2…God, what the fuck do I call this shitty feeling? Hmmm....okay, I've got it - it's the feeling you would get if you were to receive the following letter:
Dear [YOUR name here]:
Congratulations! You have been selected to donate a kidney to someone in need of a transplant that will save their life. This is a tremendous blessing for which you will undoubtedly thank God. This operation does come with some risks - in fact, both you and the recipient could suffer complications and even death. But it's all good, because whatever happens is part of God's plan. Furthermore, there is wonderful news in that this difficult decision has already been made for you! It is in the state's interest - and required by law - that you follow through with this kidney donation or else criminal charges will be pursued. Also, you are completely financially responsible for this operation and for the post-op care of both you and the recipient. If you find yourself in circumstances in which you are unable to pay, rest assured that we will pray for you and the Lord will provide. Again, congratulations!
HAHAHAHAHA....oh my, how ridiculous I am! You think so? Do you really think so? Then re-read this letter because I don't see how it's any different than what appears imminent based on last week's news. Our democracy has failed us. A powerful, misogynist minority is relegating female-bodied people to a second-class, oppressed citizenry with bodily rights unequal to those of male-bodied people. Once a female-bodied person becomes pregnant, they no longer have any power or control over their body - the government's interests have superseded their own. Any male-bodied person who caused this pregnancy retains full, complete rights and autonomy over THEIR body. The inhumanity of what's happening here is unconscionable.
ALL OF THIS is what consumes my mind as I think about my daughters and their future. Thus far, my message to Annabel has been "It's okay, you don't have to have a baby." But as both my daughters get older, my message to them will eventually be this:
Fuck the patriarchy. Your body is beautiful, it is powerful and it is YOURS and yours alone. No one else but you can have governance over it, even if - and ESPECIALLY if - you become pregnant. And this is particularly important: even if abortion becomes illegal, that does NOT make it immoral or wrong - it is still a perfectly reasonable, safe, and perhaps even necessary choice that I promise will ALWAYS be yours to make. Someone may tell you otherwise - someone may tell you that abortion is barbaric, that it is equivalent to killing babies, that it is murder, but that is THEIR perspective, which they are entitled to, but you do NOT have to share it when it comes to YOUR pregnancy and YOUR body.
So, Happy Mothers Day, everyone! And once again - because it cannot be overstated - FUCK THE PATRIARCHY.
No comments:
Post a Comment