It seems everywhere I look, it’s like a battle between pro-lifers and pro-choicers. But a little bit of research will show that most people from either side have never actually had an abortion. I’m not really sure what gives them the right to be so passionate about something they’ve never experienced.
I decided I was not going to be one of those hypocrites. So I headed to the clinic with my friend Isaac so we could make up our minds about the issue in an informed and educated manner.
When we got there, everyone was really nice —one point for the pro-choicers. But for some reason, they were talking like they felt really bad for me or something.
“OK honey, I’m going to take you into the back room. Do you feel ready?” one of the nurses asked in the tone my mom used when I was 3.
I nodded and waved to Isaac as I stood up.
“Is he here to support you?” the nurse asked.
“No, he’s going to get one too,” I said.
She laughed.
“I think it’s really great you have a sense of humor,” she said.
Wow, I thought, she’s really closed-minded about this whole thing—one point for the pro-lifers.
Only a few minutes after I changed out of my clothes and laid down on the table, the doctor quickly stood up and brought one of his colleagues into the room. They whispered to one another for awhile, occasionally glancing at me—seemingly confused—before walking back over to my bed.
“Kiera,” my doctor said, hesitating a bit, “did you take a pregnancy test before you made your appointment?”
“Oh no,” I responded. “I’m not pregnant. I’m just trying to make up my mind about abortions. I think it’s really irresponsible that most people decide before they’ve actually tried it. Don’t you?”
After they referred me to a series of psychiatrists, I went back into the lobby, as abortionless as when I arrived, and met up with Isaac.
“They wouldn’t give me one because I’m not pregnant.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Maybe I’ll have better luck.”
“Probably,” I said. “I mean they can’t require you to be pregnant before your abortion—men can’t even get pregnant!”
We both laughed at the ludicrous idea of a man giving birth.
“Isaac?” one of the nurses read quizzically from her clipboard. He stood up. She looked from him, to me, to another nurse and told us to leave and never come back.
“Gosh,” I said to Isaac later that evening, “All the pro-choicers claim to be so open-minded about everything. But we’re not good enough for them because I’m not pregnant and you’re not a woman. That doesn’t sound very open-minded to me.” He shrugged.
“But we can’t decide to be pro-life just because they threw us out. It still doesn’t change that neither of us got to have an abortion.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I told him, frustrated that I was still as conflicted as I had been the day before.
As I contemplated the events of the day, I wondered how the pro-lifer’s claim that more and more people were getting abortions could be true when they rejected Isaac and me for such trivial reasons.
But then again, the pro-choicers said everyone deserves to control what goes on with their bodies. They didn’t seem to know what actually happens at the clinics either—I had no control over whether I got an abortion.
I decided I’d just have to remain on the fence about the issue, unless Isaac was willing to stop at another clinic to try again. I wondered if we’d have time to stop the next day during our drive to Canada, where we were going to enter into a gay marriage with each other.
Want Kiera and Isaac to save you a piece of wedding cake? E-mail her at wiatrak@wisc.edu.
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