Abortion

I was Mother's second child but her first, too. My mother had an abortion during the war when the mother's bf was transferred far away and they didn't get married. At least he paid for the expensive abortion. The figure of $400 comes to mind, but it may not be part of that story. And Mother was still able to have more children. Specifically me, my two brothers and my sister, after she met and married a US Marine. She often said that they were each others' "last chance."

I was really lucky that my mother's illegal abortion was safe enough for her to get married years later and have me and my brothers and sister. I was also lucky enough to have a legal, safe abortion myself, even though I had to travel to NYC from Atlanta to get it. Once the Supreme Court handed down Roe v Wade, I thought that settled the issue. Apparently we are still under attack from misguided and apparently angry people, who seem to lack understanding and compassion. Those people seem to control many politicians, mostly white males, who have no compassion and are actively seeking to deny women control over their own bodies and choices. This makes me sad, angry and scared.

If I lived in one of those backward, poor, heavily religious countries where women are still enslaved and without basic human rights, I believe I would just put down my head and try to survive. I am no Malala, I am no Mother Theresa, I am not a hero. But I hope that there are ways I can reach out to women in my own country and in other countries and try to help them gain and hold onto their basic rights over their own bodies. Health care has been defined as a basic right by the United Nations. This is true, and I want to help.

I, too, was in the New Left in the late 60s and early 70s. I had married a fellow who had a couple of friends. I think they told me they had come south, not with the Freedom Riders that CORE organized, but later, to participate in a strike at the Farrah textile plant up in Blue Ridge, GA. Everyone got fired, and the plant closed. They were not the Catholic or Quakers or interested in non-violent resistance. In fact, I don't know what they were doing, except when something would get started, like the underground newspaper, The Great Speckled Bird, they would be around, maybe participating. I really enjoyed working with The Bird, although I didn't do that much. It was all volunteer for me, and I didn't take it very seriously. I was doing a lot of drugs, but I was not on a religious or spiritual journey, not seeking my awakening.

And then I got pregnant on the IUD. I was having sex with a number of random strangers ("free love") and also with my husband's friend HJ. I assumed it was HJ's baby. With the material and emotional help of many women in my small community, I went for an abortion in NYC. My husband's family, his uncle in NYC and his parents back in Atlanta, also gathered around in non-judgmental support. Today I look back at my lack of gratitude toward all of them. Opportunities missed.

The abortion itself was probably unnecessary, as the IUD had compromised my pregnancy. But I wrote about the experience (and drew an illustrated headline) in Atlanta's underground paper, The Great Speckled Bird. Then my sister showed the article to my parents. I didn't even know she read the Bird.

And that is how I learned that my mother had an abortion in Washington DC during WW2. Not from my mother, oh no! My sister told me what she had told my parents, and then told me about Mother's abortion. Mother told Cayce, not me. Cayce, not Mother, told me. I never spoke about abortion with my mother, and later in my life, she became a fanatical anti-abortion donor. She wore a pin and sent money to religious organizations. 

Today I contemplate her terror and loneliness, and my own, in spite of the support of my friends. I think, in spite of my anger at her, that this shared experience brought us closer or at least opened the door to it. I admit I was slow to grasp the opportunity. I imagine that Gran's reaction to Mother's tragedy was not as accepting. But it has taken me this many decades to see that.