abortion

“Parallel Planes: The Ghost of Mothers and Daughters” published in The Rumpus!

Parallel-Planes_1If I hadn’t been able to end my second pregnancy with Baby Wow, my new baby Miles wouldn’t be here with us today.

Abortion is family planning. Abortion is a life-saving procedure. Abortion is often the best choice. And this choice has nothing to do with the government or a court but everything to do with the individuals going through it.

I wanted the baby I lost. But when we learned about her lethal chromosomal disorder, continuing the pregnancy – with all its physical risks and with all the trauma it would have caused to myself, Dave, and Lew – was not the right choice.

Women’s stories have been stolen. Our truths about our bodies have been twisted into something unreal yet believed by so many people. These false narratives then go on to inform public policy and ruin lives. Meanwhile, we are told to be quiet, to hide our pregnancies, to hide our miscarriages and abortions, to even hide our periods.

No matter the reasons behind a person’s choice, it is their choice. My choice was hard, messy, emotional, traumatic, and I am grateful for it.

Thank you to The Rumpus for giving me this opportunity to share my truth.

You can read the essay here, accompanied by beautiful artwork by Clare Nauman.

Join the Fight for Reproductive Justice!

Like many of you, I am enraged and overwhelmed by the recent abortion bans. The politicians who have proposed and passed these bills are certainly not pro-life; if they were, they would instead be passing bills to increase access to prenatal care, to address the horrific fact that women of color in the United States are 2 to 6 times more likely to die from complications of pregnancy than white women, and to allot more money for social services for new parents, such as paid parental leave, affordable childcare, lactation support, and postpartum doulas.

In fact, these recent bills, with inclusions like limiting birth control options and mandating scientifically impossible surgeries, aren’t even focused on ending abortion. If that were the true motive here, we would instead be seeing legislation that addresses the root cause of abortion: unwanted pregnancy. But addressing this root cause would require acknowledging the fact that pregnancy happens only when a man’s semen is ejaculated into a woman’s body. Women can’t get pregnant from their own orgasms. Women can’t even get pregnant from having intercourse with men. Women can only get pregnant from men ejaculating inside of them. But how dare I suggest the passing of any kind of law that would regulate a penis?

So no, the intention is not to support life nor end abortion. The intention – which is being shouted loudly and clearly and with pride – is to control women, especially women of color, and to overturn Roe v Wade. It feels like a war has been waged on us.

kyhealthjusticeBut now is not the time to give in to anxiety and hopelessness. There are fierce people on the ground across these key states taking huge risks to fight back and do the work. We must support them. Here are some organizations and clinics to consider donating to or volunteering for:

  • NARAL – nationwide but heavily involved in GA, OH, and AL
  • Planned Parenthood – providing essential health services to women at low costs across the country, plus here’s a link to their “Get Involved” page which recommends other great actions to take
  • NYAAF – based in NY but helps women across the US find access to providers
  • National Network of Abortion Funds – nationwide, provides funding for abortions and transportation to offices and clinics
  • Women’s Health West Virginia – one of the few, maybe the only, women’s clinic in WV that provides abortion services
  • KY Health Justice Network – developed by women and people of color, providing support, education and outreach to Kentuckians to build reproductive justice, and includes services geared towards transpeople
  • Arc Southeast – provides support (financial assistance, lodging, travel) to those in need of reproductive care of all types, in Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Mississippi, South Carolina, and Tennessee

Another great way to fight back is to support progressive women running for office in the middle and southern states. You can donate and volunteer for campaigns even from the other side of the world. Here are some names to keep up with as they run for reelection or office for the first time:

staceyabrams

  • Stacey Abrams (GA; pictured) – narrowly (and suspiciously) lost the election for GA governor, she’s amazing and definitely one to follow, the best way to keep up with her right now is on Twitter
  • Kelsey Coots (KY) – ran for KY State Auditor but lost the primary, we are now awaiting her next move
  • Lauren Underwood (IL) – recently elected to US House of Reps, let’s keep her there
  • Amy McGrath (KY) – not running right now but narrowly lost in 2018 and is expected to run for something in 2020 (maybe a McConnell opponent??)
  • Brigid Kelly (OH) – current representative in Ohio’s state house, let’s keep her there

Also stay tuned to Emily’s List, a great organization working to get pro-choice, Democratic women into offices across the country.

While there is plenty of work to do, please remember to take care of yourself. For many of us, this war on women is frightening and triggering. But we have to be in it for the long haul, through the 2020 election and beyond, which means pacing ourselves and practicing self care every step along the way.

If reading the news feels like too much, don’t read it. Instead, if you’re financially able, consider setting up a monthly donation to one of the above organizations so that you can contribute regularly to the fight without stressing yourself out. And if you need to check out for a day, a week, a month, do it. But please, come back ready.

 

Photo Credits:
1. Reproductive Justice, taken from Reflections Journal
2. KY Health Justice Network logo
3. Stacey Abrams, by Audra Melton

Your Sister’s Ghost

It is 6:30 pm, Father’s Day is tomorrow, and we have nothing ready for your dad. To be honest, I was relying on your daycare teachers – for Mother’s Day, they helped you make this adorable and extensive art project that I completely love – but it seems like they don’t feel the same about dads. Your dad is a particularly chill one and not into fake holidays, but still, we have to do something. Or rather, you have to do something – I have to cook dinner.

“Why don’t you draw a picture of MommyDaddyLewis for Daddy’s special day tomorrow?” I suggest.

You run with this idea, literally, straight to your art table where you pull out a piece of blue paper and some markers. I wait until you’re settled then return to the kitchen to boil water for pasta.

August 2018 Drawing on the Balcona.JPG

A few minutes later, I walk back in and glance at the three figures you’ve drawn in the middle of the page. I’m impressed; they’re the most detailed, complete images you’ve ever made, and I’m ready to burst forth in motherly praise. But before I say anything, you start drawing another figure in the top left corner, smaller than the rest of us and clearly separate. Without prompting or even a word from me, you say, “That’s my sister.”

“What?” I reply, taken aback.

“My sister.”

“Your sister?”

“Yes.”

I am stunned. We haven’t talked about Baby Wow since right after I lost her six months ago now. We actually haven’t talked about siblings at all since then. While her recent due date certainly triggered many things inside of me, I’ve been very careful not to mention this around you. In fact, I never even told you she was a girl. I first shared with you that I was pregnant when she was eleven weeks in utero, but then had to tell you just one week later that she wouldn’t be born. You were sad, but only for a couple of days. By the time the genetic test results came back and we’d learned her gender, you were long over it.

Thinking back to those days surrounding the procedure still hurts. But I have to put my own emotions aside so that I can be present and explore this moment with you. I don’t want to put words in your mouth or sway your thoughts in any way, so I decide to begin with, “Do you have a sister?”

“Yes,” you reply in the same intonation as an older kid might say, Duh.

“Okay. Where is she?”

“Here,” you say, tapping your drawing of her.

“I see. So do you have a sister for real, or just in the picture?”

Seriously and without hesitation, you say, “For real.”

“In real life, or just pretend?”

“In real life, Mommy.” I can sense the annoyance seeping into your voice, but I decide to push on just a little more.

“Okay, where is she for real?” 

“Mommy, she’s right here,” you say, pointing to the air beside you.

Lew's Family Portrait 2018.JPG

Bamboozled

Did you know that toothbrushes are immortal? Unlike human beings, plastic toothbrushes keep on living even underneath tons of pounds of garbage. They keep on living even inside the bellies of dead dolphins. They keep on living even as they float all the way across the ocean until they wash up on Taiwanese beaches. Then, they keep on living even after they’ve become sculptures in the sand.

toothbrushesonbeach.jpg
— ◊ —

The past six months have tried to end me. The life I once lived in which I wrote, mothered, taught, sang, performed, took politic action, and somehow also relaxed, has been shattered. Instead of making art, going out, or sleeping, I’ve learned firsthand about anencephaly, the gray area of sexual harassment, and municipal regulations on basement apartments. I’ve dealt with wild hormonal swings. I’ve worked my ass off for a job I was promised that ultimately didn’t exist, then found myself in an uncomfortable situation when I said no more. I’ve packed, moved, unpacked, re-packed, re-moved, and re-unpacked – all with a cat, two dogs, and a busy-bee toddler who recently dropped nap.

I’ve never felt this much rage before, and while it has cracked me open in important ways, it has also shaken me to my core. My mind has raced in circles. My muscles have morphed into a single knot of tension. And my anxiety, after eighteen years of treatment, has found a new way to express itself: my throat is clenched tight, leaving my voice strained and hoarse, my neck and teeth throbbing with each heartbeat.

— ◊ —

Did you know that bamboo is the fastest-growing plant in the word? It is also one of the sneakiest. Its roots can run underground for over twenty feet before popping up again as a new shoot, called a culm. These culms then grow up to three feet a day for the next 120 years, sending their own runners out to sprout in surprising, faraway places.

Three to five years after its initial sprouting, a culm can then be harvested and transformed into basically anything: food, medicine, toys, rugs, clothes, bikes, houses, roads, bridges. In fact, bamboo can withstand twice as much force as concrete, and can hold up to 16 tons of weight. It can also cure cancer.

bamboo

— ◊ —

Becoming a mom has turned my home into a plastic palace. I look around the living room of my new new apartment, a place I hope will last much longer than the three months we spent in our illegal new apartment, and identify eleven items that will never die.

The bathroom isn’t any better. Three toothbrushes stick out from inside a plastic cup. A plastic bin filled with plastic toys is propped precariously on the lip of the tub. I move it to the floor, out of sight, then run hot water for a bath, but as I soak my stress-induced hemorrhoids and eat the M&Ms intended to aid in my toddler’s potty regression, I can’t relax; plastic is still very much on my mind. Also on my mind: pregnant women who’ve been denied access to proper health care, immigrants who’ve been detained for going to work, animals whose homes have been destroyed by loggers. I lament my now inactive Quick Action email list, my abandoned blog, the phone calls to senators I never placed. The enormous task of surviving my day-to-day has been all consuming, and while the depths of my strength have truly amazed and buoyed me up, I also feel like a failure of an activist.

plastic-toys1-e1525402821711.jpg

— ◊ —

Did you know that toothbrush bristles were once made from boar hair? Of course they contained loads of unhealthy bacteria, not to mention the moral issue of how these pigs were treated before they became tooth-brushing tools, yet, because animal hair is biodegradable and nylon is not, this is the only completely decomposable option presented thus far.

There are scientists out there who have dedicated their entire careers toward dissecting the greater impact of a single bristle. I think of these people doing this work, and I feel the knot inside of me loosen a little.

— ◊ —

I’ve always approached my activism from the angle of who needs it the most, but for the first time, I’m now approaching it from the angle of what I can most reasonably do. I am not ready to jump back into the strict schedule that once worked for me, and perhaps I never will be, perhaps that life wasn’t sustainable with or without my recent crises. But either way, here I am, dealing with effects of events that, though they’ve calmed, are still very much present: an unfulfilled due date, a static career and lingering sense of violation, an unresolved case with the Department of Buildings.

I will never solve all of the world’s problems. I will never even solve all of my own problems. But as I hold my recently purchased bamboo toothbrush and move its brand new form of bristles around my teeth, I realize, I don’t have to.

BexBambooBrush.JPG
— ◊ —

You can buy your own set of bamboo toothbrushes by clicking here. And if you need some more motivation to start the long process of giving up plastic, check out Margaret Atwood’s compelling piece in the Guardian.

Sources:
Encyclopedia Britannica: Bamboo
Bamboo Facts
Bamboo Herb
Brush with Bamboo
The Bamboo Solution
15 Creative Uses of Bamboo

Photo Credits:
1. Flotsam and Jetsam by F Delventhal
2. Bamboo by Serlunar