Today marks the 34th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, and is being marked by interested folks all across the political spectrum. Many pro-choice feminists are “blogging for choice”, and many pro-lifers are participating in marches and offering their own blog thoughts.
This most heart-rending of cultural issues continues to cause division and heartache, and perhaps rightly so. If we are going to fight with each other, it is perhaps good that we fight over something as viscerally important as abortion. What could matter more?
I’m not blogging for choice or blogging for life. As I’ve written before, I got my high-school girlfriend pregnant, and went through the abortion process with her. Had she — we — kept the child that we conceived, he or she would be turning 21 next week. That thought is very much in my mind today. I don’t regret the decision we made, but I grieve it. The absence of regret and the presence of heartache are not mutually exclusive. Not on this issue.
Mind you, I have a long history of activism — on both sides. I’ve marched with Planned Parenthood, and prayed with Operation Rescue. I’ve given to NARAL and Feminists for Life. And no, dear detractors, I’m not so confused that I’ve done both at the same time! But I’ve journeyed a lot on this issue, and it remains an immensely painful one for me. I have been bold enough to stake out some strong views on other issues, but on this one, I remain silent. I remain conflicted. The conflict is honest; it’s not a disingenuous attempt to please all sides at once. It is the one issue where I see and feel both sides of the argument so intensely that I am truly intellectually incapacitated by ambivalence. And thus, I don’t blog abortion.
I don’t believe this kind of uncertainty is virtuous! Indeed, it’s as frustrating to me as it is to my friends who want to pin me down. I long for the days when I was so damn sure what the right thing to do was! I pray regularly for God to give me the gift of clarity. It has come on many issues, but not on this one.
I am praying that all those who do wage battle on this issue continue to see the decency and the humanity in those on the other side. I am praying for a world where every child conceived will be healthy and wanted. It’s just that I remain painfully uncertain about how best to achieve that end.
Hugo…one of the things that I love about this blog is your honesty.
I completely understand where you are coming from. I have been on both sides, though never as an “activist.” As of right now, I fall on the “pro-life” side, which comes from the consistent life ethic of my Anabaptist leanings (which may not just be leanings any more).
What bothers me the most is that people, on both sides, see it as such a black and white issue, which little room in the middle. I appreciate that you wrestle the issue - there are are so many who are unwilling to do just that.
Hugo,
I found your post from OneUtah.
It’s good to know of someone who has been on both sides of the issue, as it makes for an easier way to walk in another’s shoes and get some sense of what it’s like.
I agree with you that there needs to be more humanity on both sides of this passionate issue. Name calling doesn’t help. Understanding may not lead us to agree with each other, but an attempt to understand will paint one’s opponent with the brush of humanity that everyone deserves.
First, and most importantly, I extend to you my compassion and best wishes on what has to be a difficult anniversary. May you find peace of mind concerning this difficult situation and memory.
Having said that, I want to point out a few things that I think are important. Since this is such a sensitive topic, I’ll do that as politely and kindly as I can while still making my point.
You wrote:
…I got my high-school girlfriend pregnant…
Feminists complain, perhaps sometimes justifiably, when someone says that a woman “got pregnant,” while failing to mention the involvement of a man. They point out that the woman did not just “get pregnant” on her own (assuming, of course, that the pregnancy did not result from a deliberate treatment at a fertility clinic).
To say that you “got your girlfriend pregnant” suggests the opposite: that she had nothing to do with the pregnancy. She is as responsible for it as you are.
You also wrote:
I don’t regret the decision we made, but I grieve it.
While I honor and respect your grief, let’s be honest about the decision. You did not make any decision, she did. While I can understand that it may be comforting to feel that you really did have some say in the matter, as far as legal rights are concerned, you did not have any say in it.
In the earlier blog post to which you linked, you even said as much:
But it wasn’t my decision to make, nor should it have been. After all, my body wasn’t pregnant. I wouldn’t finish out high school “showing”; I wouldn’t have college delayed a year by carrying a baby. I wouldn’t have to go through what must be the unspeakably difficult task of giving a child you’ve carried for nine months up for adoption.
Technically, you did equivocate at the end of that paragraph by saying:
And so, with many tears and much trembling, we decided on abortion.
(emphasis mine)
However, in this context, that sentence seems like an afterthought (perhaps grounded in a need to feel some power over the situation?) stated after laying out the reasons why it was not your decision to make. Under the law, as it was then and now, you had no right to make any decision. You may have influenced your girlfriend’s decision, but the law gave you no rights in the matter.
This is an important issue because, had your girlfriend decided to keep the baby, then you would have been on the hook for at least 18 years of so-called “child support,” regardless of your wishes. That could very well have happened even if she had lied to you and conceived a child with another boy or man. It’s a sad possibility, but one we must consider if we are to have a full understanding of your rights, or rather the lack thereof.
Feminists like to say, “My body, my choice,” but they conveniently leave out “my responsibility.”
While I wish you peace of mind, I also hope that you will reconsider some of your attitudes with respect to men’s reproductive rights or, again, the lack thereof.
Tom, ultimately the burden that my girlfriend carried was far more hers than mine. She sought my input, and I gave it, and I stood by her regardless. At the moment we had sex, I gave my consent for every possible outcome. My “reproductive right” was to say yes or no to intercourse; my “yes” to sex bound me irrevocably to whatever came of it.
I have no problem accepting that.
Serious stuff, Hugo. Thank you.
This is the best I can recommend on the subject. Ambivablog looks at the subject with heart and experience.
Part 1
Part 2
HT to Weekend Fisher
Hi Hugo,
Abortion is indeed a contentious issue, but that contention distracts us from a much more easily resolved question: contraception.
Surveys indicate that contraceptive failure accounts for no more than one in ten abortions and that failure to use or inability to access contraception accounts for the remainder.
Into that huge gap I think nearly all of us can find common ground and common purpose.
figleaf
You know, Hugo, during the first month that I took your class, I wrote a journal entry about abortion. I wrote that I couldn’t label myself as a feminist if I had to support abortion rights. At the time, that was one of the reasons I thought my faith and feminism could never blend. You writing, “I am with you” in terms of being pro-life is one of the reasons I now call myself a feminist. I thank you for your thoughtfulness on the subject, and your commitment to establishing respectful dialogue between the two sides is something that we could all benefit from.
A fine post, Hugo; thanks for it.
“I am praying that all those who do wage battle on this issue continue to see the decency and the humanity in those on the other side. I am praying for a world where every child conceived will be healthy and wanted.”
Two prayers that I can fully agree with, as I agree with you in regards to the difficulty of achieving any kind of perfect clarity on this issue in our imperfect world. I’ve been thinking of writing something on abortion in the days ahead; if I do so, then as always, your level of honesty about your own doubts is what I’ll be striving for.
If you haven’t listened to Tim McGraw’s “Red Ragtop”, you need to. (No, this comment is not off topic.)
Yes, I know that song, and though the melody grates, Sam, the lyric rings true.
Hey Hugo!
Great, thoughtful post. I appreciate the way you manage to hold in tension complicated and sometimes contradictory views on the issue of abortion.
Are you conflicted about your personal position on abortion or about whether or not it should be legal?
Anon, I am conflicted about the whole dang shootin’ match.
As one of your past students, I’ve always admired your honesty on issues. “The absence of regret and the presence of heartache are not mutually exclusive”. Your statement, precisely describes the experience, and the pain that one feels. There are countless discussions, and debates regarding the issue, yet only those directly effected, can truly describe it.
I was married for six years, and had to make that decision five years ago, and though I don’t regret it, I certainly have to live with it. While I am grateful that I was able to make that choice, God knows the pain that I’ve had to endure over the years.
Abortion is an issue where any decent person should be at least a little conflicted. After all, what decent person wants to be seen as either anti-choice or anti-life? Those are the two poisons we have to pick from, the only question being how much or little of each.
Hugo, I blogged about this myself here.
I am praying that all those who do wage battle on this issue continue to see the decency and the humanity in those on the other side.
It is extremely difficult to see the “decency and humanity” in anyone who would like to force me to bear a child I do not want, who would make my body a crime scene if I abort. To deny me the right to sexual expression because of my refusal to bear a child is wrong. To deny me the right to defend myself against unwanted pregnancy is wrong (I use the most reliable form of birth control - an IUD - but even that can fail). The chances are good that if I did get pregnant, it would be an ectopic pregnancy - one which would kill me if it continued. Abortion is a matter of life and death to me, and it is hard to hear anything but “I want you to die for having sex” when someone says “I think abortion should be illegal.”
what decent person wants to be seen as either anti-choice or anti-life?
Xrlq: Anti-choice IS anti-life, for the most part.
I decided to simply read your blog entry and none of the comments because I was afraid of what they’d say.
I had an abortion almost a year ago. I don’t fall in either category - I am not FOR it nor am I AGAINST it. I think it’s an incredibly difficult decision. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fit myself in a neat category to one side or the other.
All I know is that the things that anti-abortionists say are incredibly painful and hurtful. I often have to skip over articles or letters to the editors in newspapers as they’re so awful.
And in the same vain, I feel like pro-choice people tried to fool me by saying it wouldn’t hurt or that it wasn’t that big of a deal.
The reality is that it’s a middle of the road issue. It does hurt. It’s an incredibly hard and painful decision. But I don’t regret it and I’m painfully glad (if that makes sense) that was the decision I made. But it pains me as much as it helps me.
And neither pro-choicers or anti-abortionists understand that. No one wants to have an abortion. It’s an incredibly hard choice. But let me tell you, hearing about what a horrible person I am, that I’m a murderer… that’s the worst of it. And hearing from pro-choicers that it won’t affect me, that was also really hard prior to the abortion because it turned out that it did.
And that’s where it gets to be really, really hard.
If both sides could just be honest. It’s an f-ed up situation that hurts. I just wish people would stop treating me like a murderer. Then maybe I could walk into a church again. Because that’s truly what I really miss. I miss God and I miss church.
PS. Xrlq is one of the few that ‘get it.’
I had an abortion last October. While I wished I could have gone through with the pregnancy, I knew that I could not, due to many underlying factors. So without hesitation, my boyfriend and I made the decision to follow through with the procedure, and I figured I would never look back. Little did I know that the decision would haunt me every night.
You see, in retrospect, I believe I was in denial. I guess somewhere, I knew that being in denial was the only thing that was going to allow me to go through with the termination. Otherwise, I would be five and a half months pregnant today.
As I was reading your blog, something inside of me just clicked when I read that you don’t regret your decision, but you grieve it. I think that is how I feel after all, because ever since I read that, it all just made sense, and I don’t feel haunted anymore.
Maybe I am writing to thank you for inadvertently driving an important point home for me–I still don’t really know. Nearly six months after a horrifying experience, however, I can still say I am as lost as I was the day the stick turned blue.
Thanks, Ally, for sharing a painful story. The distinction between regret and grief is an important one; sadness and hurt are not evidence of having made the wrong choice, but they need to be honored all the same. It takes time, I’m afraid, for the sadness to fade — but it will, I promise.