When my IUD’s seven-year lifespan was up,
I felt better after the foreign object was out.
The hijabi receptionist at Planned Parenthood
cornered me to ask how I care for my curly hair,
volunteering that her second child would be her last
because her five-day-long labor had culminated in
a heart attack. It’s not like I wanted to get pregnant,
I just wanted to be unencumbered by precautions.
It was like my deviated septum, there was no reason
not to get the surgery, I just didn’t want to.
Besides which, the doctor wouldn’t promise
not to change the shape of my nose.
I still don’t have an IUD and I could have
an accident anytime. And I can’t think of IUDs
without thinking of IEDs, even all these years
after America’s destruction of Iraq.
***
Logo by Mina M. Jafari
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We Are More is an inclusive space for SWANA (Southwest Asian and North African) and SWANA diaspora writers to tell our stories, our way. Curated by Michelle Zamanian, this new column seeks to disrupt the media’s negative and stereotypical narratives by creating a consistent platform to be heard, outside of and beyond the waxing and waning interest of the news cycle. We’ll publish creative nonfiction, graphic essays, fiction, poetry, and interviews by SWANA writers on a wide variety of subject matter.
