Political Games - Where the fuck’s the reset button?

I’ve written about abortion rights and the pro-life movement before [see here and here, for example], and while my support has, for a couple of years, been near-absolute, I’ve occasionally had misgivings about it. Well, so what? These weren’t my rights we were talking about, these were women’s rights, and I don’t get to legislate rights restrictions for others based on my level of comfort with them. Anyway, I recently came across a personal story that really really makes me more contemptuous of the pro-life movement. I recommend reading the whole thing, but here’s a poignant excerpt:

I sat there, wondering if I’d at least get my wife back after this. Then 20 minutes passed, and nothing. Thirty minutes. Forty. Forty five. I started to get worried and thought all sorts of horrible things that I will not put words to. Mainly, then, I start to think about the abortion debate. About pro-lifers, in particular. I think about all those meddling politicians that would want to interject themselves into everything that just happened to me, interject themselves between me, my wife, and her doctors. And then I had a strong, visceral reaction. I wanted the mutherfuckers to die. I wanted to rip off their heads and tear out their hearts, because how DARE they play politics with my wife’s life? The baby was fine until the end. I wondered if that would have meant they’d force us to let my wife bleed until almost death before they’d let us abort, because well, if she’s not near death, then it is just a ‘health’ exception, and we can’t have that! Fuck them. Fuck them all. They can fucking die, as far as I’m concerned. This was what went through my mind as I sat there, waiting to see if, after my baby died, my wife had died as well. I still feel that visceral reaction when I think about it, though not quite as strong - right then and there, if someone pro-life walked in and started talking about it to me, I very well might have physically attacked them. And I’m about as non-violent as one gets.

Finally, the doctors come out and tell me she’s fine and headed to recovery. Again, she’s in the same slot in recovery as she was after the birth of our daughter. I’m exhausted. It is now 1 am. She will be there overnight. I make sure she’s ok and I head for home.

Obviously, I’m still pro-choice. And I do still say that I’ll personally never have an abortion. But if anyone tells me politicians should meddle in what should be between one’s doctor and one’s self, I’ll tell them, politely, to go fuck themselves, and then explain why.

Please read the whole thing.

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