So when I say that I am Pro-choice, what does that mean to me? Well, the beliefs are infused into the term: choice. It is about women being able to choose. Choose *all* three options when she is pregnant. Part of this is a belief that all three choices must seem like viable options. Beyond this, I believe a woman has the right to equality, to bodily integrity, and control over her sexuality.
Because this has turned into such a long post (like many people, I have a lot to say on subjects that I'm passionate about) I will break it up into multiple posts. The first will cover beliefs on abortion and parenting, and then another post will deal with issues of adoption, birth control, and consent. Even with my super long posts, I am not going to get to cover every issue, and expect more discussions about being pro-choice to come later, including possible topics such as the relationship between the LGBT community, the kink community, and the pro-choice community. Maybe even something about different methods of giving birth. Oh dear, I have my work cut out for me I'm afraid.
Access to Abortion
So down to business: In Canada abortion is legal, but access depends on where you live. Hospitals are not required to staff doctors that will perform them, and in reality, doctors are only trained on how to perform abortions if the doctors pursue training. This means that most doctors are not adequately trained to perform the procedure, even in the case of emergencies. Unfortunately abortion is something only people in urban cities have access to.
Although the Canadian Health Act has been interpreted to include abortion as part of universal coverage (for any Americans reading, that means that it is part of our health benefits as citizens), there are still some provinces that have no access to abortion at all, such as Nunavut, and New Brunswick does not fund abortions (even though they are being sued, and the federal government has threatened to fine them for not following federal law). For more history, check out the Pro-Choice Action Network. Of course, aboriginal women on reserves, or women living in rural areas, and women in the maritimes, are disproportionately affected by the lack of access to a doctor willing to perform abortions. Since some provinces only provide partial coverage, there are some situations where there is a financial barrier to accessing abortion. Furthermore, students studying out-of-province or women who have to go to another province to access abortion services may not have any coverage for the procedure creating another barrier.
Even when clinics and hospitals exist where women are able to access abortion, the threat of protesters is very real. Every year Canadian anti-choice demonstrators take part in 40 Days for Life, where they hold a 24 hour vigil outside of clinics complete with empty cradle, candles, and signs. Here in Ottawa, although the protesters are told to remain on the opposite side of the street from the clinic (yes, they are two car widths away from the clinic), as soon as they put down their signs, they are private citizens again and can hand out pamphlets filled with misinformation, doctored photos, and scathing religious judgment to women entering and leaving the clinic.
They also take photographs of the women entering the clinic, and get full names of staff members. With photos of women entering and leaving the clinic being posted online, and people throwing rosaries at you (this actually happened to fellow pro-choicer, it hit her in the face), it can be intimidating to go to a clinic. Imagine if you had a family member that was protesting the clinic, or if you were a recognizable person? There is a true threat to confidentiality, even though what is happening is a medical procedure. Although some provinces and some cities do have "Bubble Zone" legislation preventing protesting directly outside the clinic, most clinics do not have this, and it is relatively easy to bypass. For cases like those in Toronto, a clinic has to be bombed first before a bubble zone can be granted.
Although Canada has access to abortion for many women (although definitely not all), there is still an issue of education. In high school there was a friend of a friend of mine (as all horrible stories begin) who became pregnant and was given American information regarding abortion and believed it would cost her hundreds of dollars. Since she was in high school and had no job, and was too scared to tell her parents, she decided to go on the vodka diet and drank nothing but vodka until she miscarried. I know a couple readers are probably reading this with wide eyes silently screaming "What about Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS)? What if she didn't miscarry, what other methods would she resort to? What if she gave herself alcohol poisoning and died? What if she had complications from the miscarriage and needed medical attention?" and yes, all of those are completely legitimate concerns, none of which the girl was educated on or knew that she should even be concerned about. Even in a city with access to a clinic and a hospital where she could get an abortion fully covered, she still went through a risky self-abortion procedure that threatened her health.
Still, other countries do not have any access to safe and legal abortions. For example, Amnesty International publicized its findings that Nicaragua's total ban on abortion was preventing women from receiving adequate medical care, causing maternal deaths to rise. The Anna Project reports that 70,000 women die each year from botched backstreet abortions globally. Not having access to safe and legal abortion is something that kills women, and it's important that any talk about abortion include countries where women do not have control over their fertility or their health.
Getting back to more Canadian views: the stigmatization of women who have abortions can be incredibly detrimental to women. Having an abortion is a stressful time, and this stress makes women vulnerable. If biased groups tell women that the stress they are having is actually a form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) that is called Post-Abortion Syndrome (which is not recognized by any large credible psychiatric or psychological association), then women can be taught to interpret stress as a sign of victimization and abuse. In the United States, women are actively counseled to sue their doctors for this.
The fact is, any unintended pregnancy is stressful, and all three options are stressful. Ask any parent, and they will tell you parenting is the most stressful thing you can do. It is not uncommon for women to regret giving up their child for adoption or to feel some sense of ambiguity if they choose abortion. Some women may feel that having a child wouldn't be so bad, but that they don't have the money or support systems in place to make it work (more on this later). Although anti-choice activists are quick to point out the negative feelings associated with abortion, they seem to completely ignore the negative feelings that can be associated with parenthood, adoption, or even miscarriage.
Abortion brings out complex feelings. Regret for having become pregnant, wondering 'what if', feeling like you are somehow a failure, the pain of unwanted sex or rape, etc. Many studies suggest that women achieve the best psychological outcome if they make a decision for themselves, and not due to pressure from outside influences. This is true for all pregnancy options, not just abortion. Women who are forced into an option that they don't want will most likely suffer for it. The more agency and non-judgmental support a women has, the better her chances of viewing the event (whether it be parenting, adoption, or abortion) as positive. For more information, you can read a paper I wrote on The Myth of Post Abortion Syndrome and what women actually need. (The link will redirect you to a downloadable pdf of my paper).
In the end, I want women to feel positive about whatever choice they make.
Parenting
Abortion is obviously not the only choice that a woman can make. Being pro-choice is not about being pro-only one choice, it is pro ALL choices. So how do you support a woman in parenting?
One way would be to support mothers financially. In Canada we partially achieve this through having universal health care, but in other countries mothers may not have access to prenatal and postnatal health care. We can also protect access to maternity leave, encourage paid maternity leave, and have significant child benefits. In Canada, mothers currently receive $100/month per child. Although I think this is a great start, child care is still largely very expensive and inaccessible to many mothers. There are many that find it easier to stay home with two children, because the cost of child care means that it would actually be more expensive to work than to stay home.
Another way to support women would be through education. In Ottawa, there is a conservative radio talk show host who famously bashed the Youth Services Bureau (YSB) program to teach parenting skills to young, at-risk mothers. He said that YSB didn't deserve the funding, and that funding could have gone to much better things than teaching mothers things that they should just... know.
After all, parenting is completely natural and there is no learning curve associated with it whatsoever.
*ahem* What he forgets is that not every woman has a great mother to teach them these things. I know that if I ever choose to have children, that my mother will be there teaching me the whole time. However, if my mother was addicted to crack, abusive, dead, or had disowned me, I would be lost. It's important to be able to break the cycle of poor parenting, abuse, and/or neglect, and we have to encourage women that have the will, but not necessarily the resources to become better parents.
Groups like that are not just good ways to give information, talk about where mothers can access other resources such as free baby clothing or diapers, but it's also a way for women to build community. It helps them build networks of supportive women who can help them deal with the emotional struggles of parenthood. Parenting is not something that can be done alone. You need friends, teachers, and help. If a woman feels that she is lacking resources and a support system, parenting can seem like less of an option.
Many women also feel like to become a parent would interfere with their ability to pursue education or a career. This is where I am a big supporter of on-location childcare, such as having daycare at your workplace, or having it available through the school you are attending. Even though having daycare available at work can actually make a company money, it is still a rare option for women. Even colleges and universities that boast about excellent childcare facilities can be inaccessible because the waiting times for a spot can be years, which isn't all that helpful unless you apply before you get pregnant. Looks like women with an unplanned pregnancy are stuck.
If women feel like they have to choose between parenthood and education or career advancement, then parenthood becomes less of an option for women. As well, it creates a financial divide with women who pursue careers as more financially independent and women who choose to parent (especially parent young) as more financially dependent on others, or restricted in terms of their career options. If women feel that they cannot realistically have an education or a career while raising a child that is the result of an unintended pregnancy, then parenthood becomes less of an option.
What I find the hardest about doing pro-choice work supporting parenting is that the people that are most opposed to affordable housing, affordable childcare, extended maternity/paternity leave, and supports for single parents or at-risk mothers are the same people that are most staunchly opposed to abortion. I often feel like being "pro-life" is actually pro-pregnancy, and as soon as the child is born, the woman and her child no long matter or are eligible for support.
Pro-Awesome
I guess I wanted to finish with a statement about what pro-choice personally means to me. I remember when I was younger, I was pro-life/anti-choice. When I was asked what women should do in the case of an unwanted pregnancy, I preached that if they aren't ready to have children, women shouldn't have sex. Rape was not a priority for me. I laid down moral judgments on women so fast that no one had time to even challenge me. Women who had sex before marriage were sluts, all pregnancies within a marriage were wanted, women made the decision to have and abortion flippantly and without thought. Abortions were monstrous acts of violence that scarred women forever (both mentally and physically), and those that performed them and had them were inhuman. The sexually repressive and judgmental hate that boiled in me was a hidden weight that I didn't know I had.
When I was 15, many things happened. I had sex for the first time, I came out of the closet, and I left my ultra-right-wing-scary-cult church. I remember the exact moment that I became pro-choice. I remember standing at the bus stop, completely alone. It was a nice warm fall day and the sun was shining. I remember that I was struck with the notion that I didn't know other women. I didn't know their situations, families, morals, or experiences. I was just 15. I didn't know the world. How could I stare a woman in the face and tell her that I knew more about her and her life than she did? Who was I to decide for several generations of women what they should do with their lives? I was incredibly humbled. It was a realization that I didn't know what I thought I knew, and that life wasn't black and white, but greys, pinks, and rainbows.
In that moment, of acknowledging my small place in the world and just how much I had to learn, I was overwhelmed. Even thinking of that moment now, it brings tears to my eyes, just as it did then. I had to sit on the side of the road and just take the biggest breath in I had ever taken. When I exhaled, I exhaled as fully as I could. I wanted to make my chest as small as I felt in relation to the vast complexities of life. I breathed out, and let go of all that hate, all that judgment. Most of all, I let go of all the pain that I felt. The pain of self-denial. The pain of hurting people around me.
I have a new pain: the pain of regret. I regret what I said to people. I made people feel unsafe and it was so easy for me to be cruel to them. I regret the time that I lost when I was so consumed with adult politics and affairs instead of just being a child, learning how to get along with others.
I like this pain though. It keeps me grounded, keeps me humble. It gives me empathy for those on the other side of the fence. It gives me perspective. I continue to learn from my past and use it to try to make the world a better place.
In the end, that is what being pro-choice is really about, making the world a better place by giving women agency, education, control, and options
In love and lust,
Lilith
P.S. The sequel has arrived!
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