She said something to me, then, that has been a great comfort. “You had a choice,” she said, “but you did not have free will.” A choice that was no choice at all.
Was it a dream? A nightmare? I felt like I’d been sold a lie. There was no husband or caring partner, no safe home or solid income. Just me, pregnant and alone, in an abortion clinic with my rapist.
Does the time come for everyone when holding it in just won’t do anymore? I kept the story of my abortion to myself until Michael broke up with me two years later.
Elisa Albert discusses her new novel, After Birth, postpartum depression, childbearing, and the misogyny of modern medicine in pathologizing the normal processes of birth and the female body.
Last year, we covered Wendy Davis’s heroic attempt to prevent a draconian anti-abortion bill from passing in Texas with two phenomenal essays, one by Callie Collins and one by Amy…
The same woman can wake up one morning with regret, the next with relief—most have feelings too knotty for a picket sign. “There’s no room,” one woman told us, “to…
Writers and activists Jessica Mason Pieklo and Robin Marty discuss their book, Crow After Roe, "the ever-roiling storm that is the American clash over abortion rights."