“I had an abortion during the summer of 2020. My daughter was nine months old and my body was still healing from pregnancy. The pandemic had only just begun and we were still reeling from the fact that we no longer had access to the support system we relied on to help us navigate being parents for the first time. I spent the weekend leading up to my 35th birthday weighing the decision. Having an abortion is very isolating. It feels cathartic to share my experience and as I have spoken about it more, I have been struck by how many people have gone through something similar.
In the best of times, the decision to have an abortion is a complex one that often includes feelings of doubt, guilt, fear, and sorrow. Now that the right to choose is being taken away, people facing this decision will have to navigate those feelings on top of the terrible reality that they will either be forced to give birth to a child that they aren’t prepared to have or, for those who are able, will have to make huge financial sacrifices to travel to a state where abortions are still accessible.
The decision to overturn Roe vs. Wade affects all of us, regardless of our physical ability to become pregnant. But the people who will be most negatively impacted by this policy decision are women of color and poor people, in states that already have incredibly stark racial and health disparities.
This is the handiwork of white, racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, ableist men who are desperate to control us. Healthcare, abortion care, and access to birth control are fundamental human rights. I refuse to give up my bodily autonomy, I refuse let anyone make this decision for me.”
“Before I got my IUD 7 years ago, I had forgotten the amount of times I’d taken plan b. I remember the fear, anxiety, the lack of money I had, always questioning why it fell on me to pay for it. I also remember being paranoid that maybe there was a reason I’d never gotten pregnant, that somehow I was infertile and my dreams of being a mom one day could be slashed by the amount of times I ingested that pink little pill – but grateful, always grateful I wasn’t bringing a being into the world that I couldn’t take care of, when I couldn’t take care of myself yet. This is a small example of my white abled body still dating cis dudes when I was 22– we are all affected but not equally. Why is it so unbelievable to think of contraception for men? Why do those with vaginas have the sisyphean task of prevention, the slow unlearning of the fact that society is not built for them?
We live in a capitalist patriarchal society and will forever be controlled by it until we collectively reject it. Systems of oppression stand or fall based on whether humans uphold or resist them. I’m working on becoming ungovernable. I’m working on my muscles. I’m looking forward to protecting everyone’s bodily autonomy in any way I can- in my massage practice, where and how I spend my money, how I raise my future kids, how I build community around me. “We the people” have the power to uphold or resist body based oppression by organizing and gathering together– building a world collectively that accepts all bodies. The only ‘profit’ and power I want to see in this life is from the love I give and receive in the world…and I love you. Fuck everything that ain’t real.”
“I asked a man recently, are you a feminist? He said no, then he said I don’t know, then he said, I haven’t really thought about it.
What a luxury. He just doesn’t think about it. He doesn’t have to think about who might control decisions regarding his body, or if he should be paid equally or offered the same opportunities, or if he should even know how to read and write or be able to vote.
I really can’t exhaust myself explaining to another man why they need to drop everything and think about what being a feminist means, but every man needs to stop what they are doing and stand up for women’s rights RIGHT NOW. We cannot win this fight without them.
And as a white woman, I am putting my focus on my own privilege. People are going to die because of this ban. People who want to live, and the disparities between white and BIPOC will be large. How many people will have to suffer and die before white people and men, “have to think about it?”
“ABORTION IS HEALTHCARE.
Like most kids, my daughter has a really good sense of what is fair and what isn't. Well, it just isn't fair to ask a woman (let alone a girl) to be pregnant when she doesn't want to be.
I am having a hard time imagining what it would be like to grow up as a girl and to not know that abortion was an option; that it would be my choice to be pregnant or not. My daughter is six-years-old and I can't quite grasp how I'm going to explain what has just happened to her.
A year ago we moved from Missouri to Massachusetts. I am now extremely grateful to be here.”
“When I was 8 years old my sister had a blood transfusion from her first period. It was then that we discovered we both have Von Willebrand disease (a chronic bleeding disorder). people with VWD are unable to clot properly and lack certain clotting factor proteins that can be the difference between life and death.
Before I was old enough to have my period, doctors told me It would be extremely difficult to give birth. It had shaped my relationship with menstruation and pregnancy before I could even grasp what that meant for me. I have spent my entire life dependent on birth control for hemorrhaging.
I live in Louisiana (the highest maternal mortality rate in the country) which is in a legal battle challenging the state ban. Several pro life proposed bills have language that would restrict access to even certain forms of birth control and IUDs. This is not about life, this is about control.”
“I distinctly remember standing in the sun at an anti-abortion protest in Washington, D.C., when I was 5 years old, holding a poster board as big as I was, in the shape of a stop sign.
I was raised born-again with Tammy and Jim, Focus on the Family, and The 700 Club. I loved Jesus, getting baptized, and receiving praise for being a good Christian. When I was an adolescent, my mother gave me a book called Tilly. It was a fictional story about a woman dealing with enormous guilt and grief after her abortion. It made a huge impact on me. It made me sad. It made me fearful.
Indoctrination didn’t keep me from having sex at a young age, but it did cause me to feel terrible guilt after every sexual encounter, for decades. The prospect of an unwanted pregnancy caused me to be hypervigilant and anxious around sex, regularly, even through my early 40s.
Having suffered my fair share of broken condoms, I am so thankful for access to Plan B; for my privilege; for my friends, who taught me about choices I didn't know I had; and for the amazing care I’ve received at Planned Parenthood. Now I am thankful that I can pivot my nonprofit, Nurses for Social Justice, to fight on behalf of people who are being prosecuted for having abortions.
Thank you Anja, for this project. Thank you for photographing me with my RV, which I use to travel the country, educating public defenders about how to read medical records to best defend their clients and keep people out of prison. Nurses for Social Justice @nurses4socialjustice (on instagram) will continue doing this work for all the incarcerated people who are going to have a much more difficult time obtaining an abortion. We will continue to help defend those who will be prosecuted for exercising their right to not be pregnant.”
“I didn’t know what to tell Anja after I sat to take this photo about my experience. A welling up of pain came to me. I am sitting in a fury most days morning and night about the overturning of roe v. Wade for many reasons. One is the lack of support even in our pro-choice Massachusetts that a person is offered when they endure an abortion.
I remember most painfully how isolating my own abortion was 6 years ago. My partner at the time of my abortion went completely emotionally MIA. It was devastating. I have never felt so Alone in my life.
The culture of silence has made it so that when a person who chooses to have an abortion needs help and support, this culture has no idea how to support them.
This is the result of an insidious pro-life culture — even here in western mass. Our society has few ways to support a person after an abortion process.
Finally, Even if you don’t have a womb, this is your fight too. The overturning of roe v Wade is not just a people with wombs issue! It is a human rights crisis.
Speak up!! Showing up for A pro-choice campaign to show your face is one way, but walk The walk if you’re going to talk the talk. Raise money, send letters, show up for your friends who are emotionally struggling with this if you have capacity. Listen — Ask people with wombs questions, get curious, start finding ways to make an impact and learning how you can help. Staying in the sidelines and being defensive is continuing to force those who are the most vulnerable to do the heavy lifting.
We need to be talking about the need to have abortions more, not less. We need to be giving people more access to this healthcare, not less. There’s are thousands of people now at risk of this silent pain and fear if we can’t get the help we need. It would be nice to be taught in schools and by doctors — How to take care of the body after having an abortion. How to support a loved one who has experienced an abortion.
All of our lives are at stake when they came for our bodily autonomy.”
“I asked Anja to photograph me during my third trimester in the surprise pregnancy I *chose* to carry out. Six years ago, I made a different *choice*. And by deciding not to become a mother then, I allowed my self not only the opportunity to now bring a child into the world that will be supported and surrounded by joy and love, safe and secure with a roof over their head and food in their belly. But I also allowed myself many more opportunities, outside of becoming a mother, that would not have opened their doors to me had I not chosen abortion. I am sad and scared to raise my daughter in this country knowing that one day should she need access to a safe and legal abortion, she may not get to choose the way I did.
To my daughter and the rest of Gen Alpha, we are fighting for you.”
“This impacts me personally, but my overarching rage at this decision is beyond personal— as a collective, we continue to suffer at the hands of systemic failures, and the system has to change. Working in community & public health, I’ve learned the importance of making evidence-based decisions. First we need good data, then we interpret the story it’s telling, then work to understand the implications and explore possible solutions to whatever issue is being addressed. The Supreme Court made this ruling based on religious zealotry and through an abuse of power, with complete disregard for the evidence against it: quantitative data showing that outlawing abortion doesn’t lead to a decrease in abortions, research that highlights how economic disparities (which are also an indicator of health risk) are exacerbated by restrictions to women’s rights—
mountains of literature that look through a lens of reason and compassion, and that are not based on biblical interpretation or constitutional cherry-picking. People who are not healthcare practitioners should not be weighing in on healthcare decisions. People who have a body should be able to feel safe in it. The government should not be restricting peoples access to care when the deck is already stacked against so many individuals and families who are casualties of a system that doesn’t serve them. Lacking compassion, lacking reason, lacking justice: this is the american way, and it needs to change.”Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.”
“I don't have a personal abortion story, but I know when radical zealots are trying to impose their will on others it is not good for anyone.
Healthcare should be a human right. Abortion is healthcare. Abort the zealot court!”
I was educated in a deeply conservative and religious school community in the Midwest for 13 formative years. We did not have a health class or any sex ed program. Instead, high school girls were brought to the library one afternoon for a special program about abstinence. We were fed fearful tales and misinformation about sex. We were told that our value was contingent on our sexual purity and remaining “unspoiled” until marriage. Anyone who was not a virgin was asked to stand up. These girls were singled out and told to pray for forgiveness in order to become a “born-again virgin.” I will never forget how it felt to sit in that room—confused, mortified, and ashamed, burdened with the weight of simply being a girl.
I did not learn about sexual health that day. The lesson I learned was to be “good” or be publicly shamed, and I just wanted to be good. I felt proud to march alongside my friends at a Pro-Life rally in our town. We thought we were marching for the sanctity of life—but it was never really about life. It's painful to look back and realize that we were taught to devalue—or not even consider—the life of a living, breathing human carrying a pregnancy. How can a life already in progress somehow matter less, have fewer rights under the law, than the unborn?
When I finally recognized what that meant, it gutted me. I could finally see the deep misogyny and patriarchal supremacy that was at the core of the movement. We were indoctrinated and manipulated to view a very complex issue in a way that dismissed the rights of over half the population. We were never taught to fight for our rights and lives. We were never taught about our own bodily autonomy—and that was purposeful. My educators controlled the information and narrative around sex, sexuality, and gender and through it, they manipulated how we visualized our potential and purpose in the world.
As an adult, I continue to identify and untangle all of the ways I was indoctrinated to accept and perpetuate oppression under the guise of Christian morality. The layers of ingrained messaging around purity, righteousness, sex, and morality that I have carried for so long are tools that serve patriarchal supremacy. While I am still processing my past, still learning to trust my voice around these issues, millions of people—all genders and ages—are subjected to the same harmful messaging, and I can’t stand to see it.
I was raised amidst those who weaponize Christianity to maintain power for the benefit of (mostly white) men. They have been working toward this moment and they won't stop with Dobbs. Reclaiming our bodily autonomy and reproductive rights, demanding science-based sexual health education that does not shame, defending the right to choose our partners, to live according to our values—as free and equal citizens—is what it truly means to fight for life.
“She is just a few years younger than I was when I had my abortion, and I wonder what kind of world she’s growing into. My doctor was kind to me, I was safe and healthy and I still carry a lot of grief about it. Grief but no regret. That choice opened doors to a thousand other choices that turned me into the person and mother I am now. For years I’ve supported pregnant people on the best and worst days of their lives. I’ve sat with people as they chose to end very wanted pregnancies, supported people through abortions, cared for people through pregnancy loss at all stages, and attended hundreds of live joyful births. It’s an honor and a privilege to do so. Abortion is healthcare. Abortion saves lives.”
“There’s no greater teacher than experience itself. My abortion was five years ago now and I learn something new from it everyday.
I learned to feel, to heal, to speak, to serve… all in ways that nothing else has taught me.
My abortion was raw, vulnerable, and powerful. It expanded who I am as a parent, a wife, a coach… a human.
Terminating pregnancies is one of the many ways we take care of ourselves. It’s physical, emotional, and spiritual healthcare, and a right that should be stripped of no person for any reason.
I spend my days now supporting other people after their abortions. I hold space for them to feel the many layers of complex feelings that abortion can stir up. We laugh, we cry, and together we grow and thrive.”
“I asked Anja to photograph me in my kid’s room because my pregnancy with Rocko was a surprise so the act of *choice* in moving through pregnancy, childbirth, and becoming his parent has always been the crucial start of our story.
Without choice, I believe I would not have the joyful relationship with Rocko I have now. Pregnancy, childbirth, post-partum depression, and parenting have been some of my most challenging life projects — experiences I could never imagine making it through as a whole person without first having the right and freedom to *choose it*.
As a parent, I believe choice has made me a better one. As a s//x educator, I believe there is no s//xual freedom without choice. All pleasurable and consensual experiences need to first begin with choice — whether it’s s//x with options available if a surprise comes your way or the choice to lean into it when it does”.
I think again and again of Barbara Kruger’s artwork Untitled (Your body is a battleground), which was created in 1989 to protest for reproductive rights. It was made when I was nine, and here we are still to protest the same issues. The war is on, as it ever was, against people who are able to bear children. This battle has gone on for decades. Here I am, and I don’t have children, and it is on me, as a human whose womb could be controlled, to stand up and keep fighting. I will keep fighting. No person who is put into a position to be pregnant should be forced to be a parent for a multitude of reasons. Why is a life expendable once it is about the baby? I don’t resent babies. I resent (male)(white) politicians who decide that I’m unimportant aside from the idea of being a vessel for future suckers/constituents whom they don’t care a whit about anyway. It’s never about the kids. It’s about power.
“I was not unlike most college girls who are solely left with the burden of a decision after the action of two people. Being an unwanted child myself, I vowed never to do that to another human being. I stand proudly by my decision decades later. My choices allowed me to bring two children into this world, surrounded by love and security, with two people yearning to be parents. My choices gave me and my children a life filled with love- a life every human deserves.”—.
“I’ve had this sentence in my head for a long time. I even pondered making a bumper sticker, but I drive a small car and, especially since 2016, literally fear being driven off the road. Paranoid? Maybe. The sentence works for me because I’ve always wished that the pro-choice movement didn’t present the choice in question as the lesser of evils, a sometimes necessary tragedy. Whatever abortion may feel like to a person who chooses to have one, for the public at large it should be seen as what it is, an essential medical procedure that greatly improves, even saves the lives of so many who make that choice. I asked Anja if I could participate because I feel that it’s important not only for men, but for men like me, whose beards have turned white, to speak up and show up, always, but right now so much more than ever. ABORTION SAVES LIVES.”
“l wouldn’t be the person I am today, the mother, the friend, the organizer, the grower and tender without my abortion. I don’t regret it. I don’t feel shame, but it feels shameful that we have to share medical histories because of abortion bans. A shame on the court, special interest groups and Christian Right who have created a spectacle of a normal medical procedure that actually saves lives. A shame on all those who rally for “life” and then send parents off with a sincere “who gives a fuck” after birth. No paid leave, no childcare, no healthcare, no fucking formula! I don’t respect the legitimacy of this decision. This is just another example of a racist court failing people of color, trans people, low income people and all of us.
We will continue to have safe abortions, on demand, unapologetically. We will continue to fight to end forced pregnancy. We will continue to fight to have children, to not have children and to parent our children in a safe and just world. We will just keep going towards liberation for our kids, for pregnant people in banned states, for all of us.”
I. Am. ENRAGED.
I am having a difficult time expression my emotions on paper. I am furious, I am sad, I am frustrated.
And I have a story.
I have had an abortion, and I am not ashamed, nor regretful. I am a woman and I made a choice, a choice I stand by to this day.
I have also miscarried. Late term. And it hurt.
And now my heart hurts and is a ball of rage. I LOVE being a bonus mom, and I take that responsibility very seriously.
I also want to birth my own children. ON. MY. TERMS.
The Supreme Court took these rights away from so many people. We will NOT back down, this is NOT over.
You think I am loud now, you just WAIT, I am just getting started!!!
I will fight for the rights of this body.
“My first introduction to abortion was at a young age, 8 or 9, when my mother made me spend a hot Saturday morning holding a poster with the image of an unborn fetus at a busy intersection with her Evangelical church. I knew I didn’t want to be there, and it felt wrong drawing attention to myself regarding a topic I knew nothing about, thus a stance I could not hold. Later in life I would choose to have two abortions, and the only question I felt regarding morality was whether or not it would be responsible of me to bring a life into this world at that time. I don’t regret a thing. Not everyone aligns with the religious beliefs that are the basis of abortion bans, therefore said beliefs are not relevant in determining the choices of an entire society. I, like many people, also do not have faith in the systems we have been born into, and will operate outside of those systems as we see fit. Abortion is normal, and will not go away. However, taking away access to healthcare that is safer than childbirth itself will lead to disaster, death, and further unjust and oppressive policies in an already broken system that only functions to make the rich richer and the marginalized poorer. Fuck the Supreme Court, fuck the prison pipeline, burn it all to the ground.”
The first time I saw my reproductive organs on an ultrasound I was 5 or 6 years old, to make sure I was developing properly. Then when I was 13 and I had an ovarian cyst to make sure it wasn't life threatening. Then when I was 19 and I had a safe abortion at Planned Parenthood. Then when I was 29, personally prepared and ready to be a mother, and I had an early miscarriage. Then again at 29 and 31 when I got pregnant with my oldest son, and then my twins who are due in the very near future.
This is about so much more than the abortion I had at 19. It is knowing that safe reproductive care is available and my pain won't be ignored. It is about knowing that on one of my saddest days, I wasn't also in danger of being arrested and thrown in jail for something beyond my control.
It is about the mercy of knowing if something goes wrong at any stage of a wanted pregnancy, medical care is available and that my life would be saved if it needed to be. It is about building a family at the right time so that I could give my children the best life possible and the best chance, and so that I could have the best life and chance possible. It is about being believed that I knew when that was for myself.
This is about my CHOICE to be a mother because I WANTED to be one. It is about the RIGHT I had to be able to plan if, when, where, how, why, and with whom I had children. It is about everyone else's right to make that choice for themselves.”
“I have lived with a chronic autoimmune disease for seven years. I know this body intimately, and I am honored to be its sole steward, even as it changes and betrays me.
Many people living with chronic illness are unable to safely carry a pregnancy to term, for many reasons. But the medical system we're a part of is not holistic. It sees us as parts. Uterus. Skin. Joints. Spine. Cartilage.
But I am a complete person, and the choices I make for my health come from a place of wholeness. I am a complete, complex being. The architect of my own future. My reproductive choices are part of that.
It is profoundly demeaning to beg for the medical care that I need to stay alive and well. I'm no stranger to the experience. It is astounding and devastating that the condition of my physical form can be controlled by my health insurance, my doctor, my government. Everyone but me.
This is my only body. This is my only chance to experience the earth. This body is the only thing that is truly mine. How dare someone tell me what I can and cannot do with this sacred vessel. How fucking dare they.
And to the people reading this who have had an abortion: there is no shame in your choice.”
“The Supreme Court has become so radicalized and so politicized that it has, for the first time ever, taken away the rights of citizens. In this case, all women. While claiming to be “originalists” the majority intentionally ignores certain original words of the Constitution, like “well-regulated militia,” and chooses instead to pander to the agendas of corporations and the Christian Right. Furthermore, the newer Justices who voted with the majority on Dobbs perjured themselves in their confirmation hearings by claiming to believe that Roe vs Wade was settled law. If you believe a fetus is a human life, I empathize with you.
But I quote the Reverend Dave Barnhart, pastor at Saint Junia Methodist Church in Birmingham, Alabama-“The unborn” are a convenient group of people to advocate for. They never make demands of you; they are morally uncomplicated, unlike the incarcerated, addicted, or the chronically poor; they don’t resent your condescension or complain that you are not politically correct; unlike widows, they don’t ask you to question patriarchy; unlike orphans, they don’t need money, education, or childcare; unlike aliens, they don’t bring all that racial, cultural, and religious baggage that you dislike; they allow you to feel good about yourself without any work at creating or maintaining relationships; and when they are born, you can forget about them, because they cease to be unborn. It’s almost as if, by being born, they have died to you. You can love the unborn and advocate for them without substantially challenging your own wealth, power, or privilege, without re-imagining social structures, apologizing, or making reparations to anyone. They are, in short, the perfect people to love if you want to claim you love Jesus, but actually dislike people who breathe. Prisoners? Immigrants? The sick? The poor? Widows? Orphans? All the groups that are specifically mentioned in The Bible? They all get thrown under the bus for the unborn.’”
“I worked for Planned Parenthood in the San Francisco Bay Area in 2000 when I was 21. It felt like important work, but I was born post Roe & I never, ever believed it would be reversed in my lifetime. I sincerely believed that we were working for more access & that things would never go back, only forward. Now I’m 43 & I have been pregnant 5 times, with three live births & two miscarriages. I required abortion procedures after both miscarriages & I cannot even imagine the horror of grieving for those losses that I wanted being forced to carry no longer viable pregnancies when all I wanted was to move on & try again. I’m lucky & I did have two more successful pregnancies after those miscarriages, one planned, one not but I made the informed decision to keep it. Having three kids is incredibly hard work, even with three very much wanted children.
There is no support for parents, anywhere. Pandemic has made it worse but there never was very much. I wake up every day as a parent of three kids I love & wanted to have, & I still wonder every single day if I can do this again. There is no reality where it makes sense to force someone to parent against their will. Children will suffer, because this is so hard even with a choice & a plan. People will die because abortion is healthcare & children will suffer because forcing babies into the world without resources to provide for them is going to inflict so much pain on the world. And now I wake up everyday knowing my kids are growing up in a world worse than the one I grew up in & it haunts me.”
“I’m 15 years old and have known about abortion for as long as I can remember with my mom being a doula. It’s scary to think about how roe being overturned can open doors to so many other bigger things being overturned like gay marriage, contraception etc. It’s scary for me to think about what my future could look like. We are going backwards and no one asked for this. I just hope that we can move past this into better times”
“When I was 18 and still in high school, I had the pill abortion. This was my one and only pregnancy and had occurred due to a few circumstances:
1. the amount of time I had to wait to get into an appointment for birth control at the closest Planned Parenthood.
2. Condom broke
3. I took the Plan B pill and did not take it, so I remained pregnant.
I always knew I did not want to be pregnant and tried to be as proactive as possible as an unstable, teenager whose parents recently divorced to ensure that didn't happen, but there were still factors out of my control.
My mom was the one who told me I had a choice to get an abortion if I ever needed to, though I was still afraid of telling her because I felt like she had too much on her plate already and would be disappointed in me. I was grateful to have the option to go to Planned Parenthood and knew it was a safe option . Access to a safe abortion gave me the opportunity to live the life I wanted to live; it allowed me the time to learn and grow and figure out how to be a person in community. I didn't think I would ever have to imagine future generations not having the same choice I had, though now I am because the courts have prioritized violence over people having bodily autonomy. It’s violent and unjust and perpetuates limitations on life-saving health care for those with a uterus. Keep your laws off our bodies.”
(Shot on July 4th, 2022) “Independence Day. Today I will mourn the loss of our human rights.
I had an abortion in the safety of Planned Parenthood, tended to by people who did not shame me. I was a fortunate one.
I have been shaped by my experiences and by my choice to have an abortion- it’s part of who I am and has allowed me to cultivate this beautiful life I have today.”
“Let’s be honest, the abortion fight isn’t about the “sanctity of human life”. That bullshit is a smokescreen. It’s about the white fear of becoming a numerical minority in this country.
Period. Full. Fucking. Stop.
Overturning Roe, is white supremacy in action.
60% of those seeking an abortion are white women. In order to maintain the white majority, bodily autonomy needed to be eliminated. Save white babies by any means necessary. It’s replacement theory and misogynistic theocracy on steroids.
Fuck that nonsense. I’ll be damned if women are forced to be baby factories so that whiteness can maintain its toxic grasp on a country that is getting browner and blacker by the year.”
“People of all genders have abortions. Claiming otherwise doesn’t honor the experiences and needs of trans or gender-diverse folks. This intersectional language is vital otherwise folks are left without comprehensive healthcare that is a basic human right. Mother is not just a noun. It’s an adjective and verb too. To mother is ‘to give rise to’ or ‘to care for.’ To mother is genderless. It is simply an act of care by a human. Abortion is not specialty care. It is healthcare. When abortion gets isolated in the conversation, it becomes a political matador flag in a futile culture war. Don’t use my body for your political gain. If I didn’t have access to abortion, I would have an 8 year old child right now. I think of this often. I don't regret my choice. Even in Western-MA, the ONLY place you can get an abortion is at the Planned Parenthood in Springfield. We must keep fighting for broader access across states that still allow access. It was my privilege that allowed me access to my medical care:
1. I had Insurance that covered my care
2. I was able to secure a free pregnancy test and schedule my abortion on the same day
3. I wasn’t subjected to inhumane waiting legislation
4. Didn’t have to be subjected to the abusive requirement of looking at the ultrasound before the procedure
5. I had the ability to pay copay
6. I had familial and partner support
7. I had access to a ride to Planned Parenthood and back home after the procedure (If I didn’t have a car I would have to take at least two busses to get there)
8. I had access to compassionate care and services
9. There was security at the clinic to insure patient safety
10. I was able to tell my boss that I had an abortion and needed a day off to regroup
11. The list is infinite.
We must organize. Build strong coalitions of community care. We must stay united, unified, and mindful of intersectional identities within the scope of our collective rage, grief, and imagination for something better than this and action towards that vision. Abortion is heathcare. Access to healthcare is a basic human right. Let's investigate the current barriers to care and deconstruct them together.”
"I'm guilty of having (arguably) one of the most shameful kinds of abortions that women are accused of having: my life wasn't under risk, I had a supportive partner, a roof over my head and family behind me if I needed. I had a choice.
I knew I wanted to be a part of this project when I saw Anja's incredible portraits. At age 38, my partner and I (already parents of two beautiful kids) were weighing the decision of whether to have an abortion or not. I found that there were so few stories like mine reflected in the conversation. At the time, I felt the cyclical shame
- thinking that my situation wasn't as worthy as others. Women of privilege like me need to share their very common stories and help protect safe abortions for those women who literally are fighting for their lives.
Anja and I weren't able to connect near my home for this shoot, so I chose a Roman Catholic Church near my place of work that day. It felt like the perfect setting for many reasons.
As I look back on being raised in the Catholic Church as a girl, it was all about isolation without autonomy. You weren't allowed to hold any position of power. You needed to go talk to a man in order to be absolved of your wrongdoings and shame, and your primary role model was a woman who was impregnated by the divine. Not to mention, abortion is one of the highest sins. I was brought up to believe that you should abstain from sex until marriage (divorce also was high up there on the sins list) and birth control wasn't really on the table either.
(Despite all of this, I still believe in divinity and am spiritual but not religious. But what is most confusing is the fact that I was raised to believe that everything was God's will. Even when I became pregnant again at age 38 and already had two kids ages 6 and 4 at the time, I struggled to make sense out of why it happened.)
I always thought of abortion in a very black and white way - i hadn't been in the position to need one so I didn't give it much thought past a strong feeling that it was every woman's right.
When confronted with the choice myself, I realized how isolated I felt not knowing many personal stories. My instinct was to search out as many as I could. I devoured every last minute of the abortion diary podcast. It gave me strength to learn that I wasn't alone.
But I was also disheartened by the fact that the so many of the diary entries and those in the news or legislation about number of weeks etc were ones where the women had a complication or didn't have the support of the father or had no family to help them. My own narrative was, well, privileged. I had a loving partner, two beautiful children, a roof over our heads and finances that would suffice. But having a third child would have required a major shift in my career, moving to a bigger house and other sacrifices going forward for the kids we already had. These reasons compared with the more noteworthy ones associated with the debate seemed trite to me. The guilt came on strong. As I did more research, 1 learned that 6 in 10 women who have abortions are already mothers and half of them have two or more children (according to 2019 data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention). That's me. So why didn't I hear more stories about these women?
There's a major stigma around this issue - who is worthy of this choice.
There is so much silence around this basic human right. Some of it comes from the same kind of upbringing as I had. I just wish that I had heard more stories like mine. Basic. Boring?
Common. Normal.
I recognize that anyone could find fault with any one of the details of my story.
That's the problem with this platform.
There's no nuance. You can't really be in someone else's shoes or understand what they've been through. Every story matters and every person deserves a choice and to feel they are supported in that choice.”