You’re Welcome.

BUT also:


Hard to Swallow Pill - Birth Control and Abortion

The past 2 years have been interesting, to say the least. Despite who’s side you are on politically, there’s almost always been something to talk about. Topics we thought had been put to bed decades ago, are being brought back for speculation. For the most part, I keep my political and religious views in my front pocket, where only I can hear them scream in agony whenever they’ve been trespassed on.

Since I haven’t really been so quiet about the most recent attack on my freedoms as a woman, I figured I would open up a bit more about it here. To be clear, I am not here to judge any 1 person on their point of view. I’m not here to change anyone’s mind about abortion, birth control, or other divisive issues that have more recently come back into the spotlight. Your opinions on each subject, are you own.

I’m one of millions of women, with fertility issues. I am one of millions of women, who given the choice, unless the circumstances were extreme, would not dream of aborting my baby.

That said, I am PRO-CHOICE. 110%.

(If you want to DISCUSS your opinions in the comments section below, please be my guest, but any attacks on a person’s beliefs will be deleted and that person banned. If things get out of hand, I will shut the comments down on this post completely. - You have been warned. )

Just a little backstory:

By 2007, I had been struggling with menstrual cycle issues, since 4th grade. (Yes, it is possible to start that early, and I was a year younger than my peers. Imagine that).

Doctors prescribed me a series of birth control pills throughout the years, in an attempt to curb my terrible cycle lengths, side effects, and blood loss, to no avail. Some, if not all of the options we tried, were complete failures, and lead to further worsening of side effects, weight gain, and horrible migraines.

Anything white, was out of the question. Black became my best friend. Black pants, black shirts, black underwear, black sheets, black towels, were a staple in my life. Haneous black fuzz balls covered everything and were everywhere each time I ran the wash, but it was easier to explain away, than a glaring red/brown blood stain on EVERYTHING I owned.

There was no predicting when it would come, or when it would finally go away. Sometimes it would be weeks, even months, before I got a day of relief, just to return for another stint a few days later. I tried multiple doctors, clinics, and different options to help regulate my cycle, and reduce the side effects, but nothing was working for me. Absolutely nothing.

After this period of time, for a few years, things seemed to go back to normal, relatively speaking. I wasn’t as miserable ALL the time, and the spurts of discomfort lessened. I got married, and it was time to start thinking about a family.

By this time, I had been diagnosed with a poly cystic ovarian syndrome, or PCOS. Again, the medication or treatment for this, was primarily birth control and a blood sugar regulatory medicine called Metformin. (They would later drop from the regimen all together)

I was not ovulating and it was making conception very difficult for my then husband and I. We tried just about everything we could to ease the process, short of force ovulation through further medications. Medications that were at no point affordable or covered by insurance past the 1st dose.

This added further turmoil to my crumbling psyche. I was quickly falling behind my peers. I didn’t have a single child, and I was closing in on the end of my 20s. Societal standards kept pulling me into an endless current of expectations that I kept failing to meet. I was drowning in my own dumb circumstances.

During this period, I was extremely PRO LIFE.

I was the nail in the coffin, preaching about self respect, and keeping the baby you were lucky to have. My thoughts and opinions were driven by my experience alone. I was being fed a false narrative from family members, some heavily influenced by religion, as well as my own personal want for a child. I would never abort a gift that I was given, so why should anyone else? Planned Parenthood was a facility for whores, and woman who got an abortion were simply unwilling to deal with the consequences of their own actions. They should be forced to have that baby! They should experience the “repercussions” of their lose ends.

Boy was I wrong.

I continued to struggle with my fertility, and ultimately, it was determined that I had uterine cancer, and would have a hysterectomy only days before my 30th birthday. 1 failed marriage later, I was in a fog of misunderstanding and denial. I would dream of the day I could adopt or afford a surrogate, but as I continued to age, and friends and family members around me shared their experiences, I realized how flawed my thoughts had been previously.

One of my closest friends, found out she was pregnant. Not only was she on a birth control, she was also using condoms/spermicide, and other forms of contraceptive. At the time, she was on various medications that could have harmed the baby.. Thank goodness everything turned out okay. She’s a responsible, hard working, college graduate, that was given a less than timely gift, but by no fault of her own! She chose to keep her son, but should the medications have caused a fatal birth defect, an abortion could have also saved her life.

This was a vital turning point for me.

A second close friend, was raped. A few months later, she found out she was pregnant, and there was no way the baby was a result of anything other than that encounter. Should she be forced to face the father of her child, under any circumstances? NO. Would I expect her to look at that baby with anything but disgust, knowing that it was a product of one of the most traumatic events in her life? NO.

I could go on and on about these topics to no end. I could talk about how men should be forced to keep children they have seeded along their way. I could debate whether women or men should be responsible for birth control efforts, both temporary and long term. I could present 100 scenarios where a woman should be given the right to choose to have an abortion, or not. I could spout endless statistics about Planned Parenthood and the services they offer. I could cite medical surveys for hours on end. I could explain why Roe. V. Wade was a revolutionary court case, that saved the lives of millions of women by giving them a safe medical alternative to backyard abortions, but I won’t.

I’m not here to change your mind about what you would do in this circumstance.

I’m not here to discuss what your God intended or how your experience shaped your opinion.

I am here to tell you, that while personally, I wouldn’t have an abortion, unless my own life depended on it, I would never tell a woman what’s good for her. I would never ask a woman, to keep a child she could not care for, either financially, or otherwise. I would never ask her to stair into the face of her innocent child with resentment for the father that bore it. I would never ask a woman to sacrifice her own safety, sanity, or ANYTHING ELSE, because I selfishly WANT for a child of my own.

All I am asking, is that you provide a safe space for those who need comfort.

There are plenty of children in the system that need our help, without adding more to the equation. Don’t take us back to a time where women were shamed for their decisions. A time we had no say over our own bodies, and lively hoods. Don’t judge a woman based on a single choice, or many.

Try to be more understanding to victims of circumstance.

Poorly structured sex education, tabooed conversations about safe sex, and consent have gotten us here. Be more educated. Listen to our stories. Not everyone was given the gift to carry their own child, but don’t take that out on those who don’t wish to do so. More over, stop shaming victims. Stop forcing your beliefs, your opinions, on others. Let them have the opportunity to choose what’s right for THEM.

Support a woman’s right to choose.

Support your fellow human’s right to a decent life.

Support access to safe and sanitary options.

Support better sex education in and out of schools.

Talk to your daughters.

Coach your friends.

Have a conversation.

Find value in every person’s voice and their story. Learn from it. Grow from it. Expand on it.

Your values, are yours and yours alone.

Thanks for tuning in!

Between the “Ex” and the “Next, Who Do You Choose?

Rain, Rain, GO AWAY!