As I write the above sentence my heart rate rises, and my breathing becomes shallow. It was not easy for me to assert my right to choose to abort those two early pregnancies. Regardless of Roe v. Wade many health care providers have personal agendas that they vociferously preach to their clients. Many Women’s Care Centers are sites crowded with angry sign-waving “Pro-Life” protesters. Unfortunately these were the circumstances in both of my procedures.

I became pregnant at a young (in my view) age. I was 15 years old and in love with sex. I thought I was handling my newly blossomed young woman’s body in a strong feminist way… I chose a single partner to explore the wonderful world of sex with, used birth control, (I actually thought condoms alone were sufficient!), and spoke openly with my parents regarding my experiences. Alas the rubber broke and my 4.0 grade point average did not keep me from feeling a fool. My young partner was gallant if not also wise and offered to “do the right thing” and marry me. I laughed through my tears at his offer, doing nothing for his self-esteem; the thought of making a commitment or mingling my genes with this buffoon with the Adonis body was not an option to be put on the table. I chose to embrace the vision of my future as a strong independent woman pursuing her studies in Psychology and Philosophy. There was no room in this script for a long-term relationship let alone a child. I was blessed with intelligent, supportive parents and they stood by me in my decision; a rare one in the rural conservative area in which we lived, surrounded by impoverished families composed of teenage parents and their luckless progeny.

The only doctor in the County who performed the procedure did not hide his disgust with us. He went so far as to say that if I experienced complications from the procedure to not come crying to him. “It will be God’s revenge upon you.” As I said, my parents gave me terrific support but the gall of that “professional” still makes me rage inside.

My second unwanted pregnancy was the result of a rape by a fellow student while I was enrolled at the State University. The Staff at the Women’s Center were caring, supportive, and kind. However their office had been under a state of siege by a religious organization for months. Clients (myself included) had to enter through a barrage of profanity and insults. One protester I recall had a child with him. I remember him picking up this young child and saying, “Look at her Timmy, you see? You can’t always tell if someone is a monster, but she kills kids who are just like you.” I’d like to say I spoke up to these people, defended myself and the law of the land, but I didn’t. I put my head down and walked.

I am so lucky to live in a time when as yet our Supreme Court has upheld a woman’s right to own her body. Let us not become complacent. Our rights as women to choose our health care options are being eroded daily. My experiences were not rosy; they still make me anxious when I reflect on them. Not for the choices I made, but for the environment of misinformed zealots I was forced to navigate in order to assert those choices. I hope my daughter is never made to feel like a criminal simply for making intelligent, informed, and highly personal health decisions. Though I did not raise my head and speak-up to the protesters that day so long ago, I cannot afford to remain silent now. The future of my daughter is at stake.