“Thank god I’m a lesbian, because this blows!” I thought to myself. I was pulling into the parking lot of the straight world’s doom. I reached the steel gates and was greeted by about 5 women and a couple of dudes. One guy was holding a sign; the others were holding pamphlets and all of them wore looks of disgust. I drove passed the driveway when I saw them, out of fear, acting as if I wasn’t headed for “that” driveway. I flipped a bitch and went for it again, looking straight forward as I pulled up the driveway trying to avoid the protester’s stares. As I flew passed them, I noticed a large sign to my right, at the time it looked like it was about 30 feet wide, but my adrenalin may have pumped that figure up. The sign on the property read “God is Pro-Choice”. Yeah, we had arrived at abortion city.

I have had a few friends and even a close relative who had chosen to abort. Their experiences were never brought up in casual conversation, but always a top-secret, deep, “I’ve only told 2 people”, confession. Abortion is political, it’s religious, and what do we learn about politics and religion? We don’t discuss in mixed company because we might offend and not everyone is going to share the same opinions. When my friend called me to ask if I would be her driver, I was honored. I was honored that she knew me well enough to know that I wouldn’t judge her on her choices.

After parking, we approached the entrance, which was on the back side of the building. There, we pressed a call button and announced our arrival. The call button attendant welcomed us in by unlocking the highly secured door. Once inside, my friend was greeted with “fill this out”. As my friend went over what needed to be filled out with the office assistant, I gazed over the room. There was an older woman that appeared to be waiting for someone and not there for “a procedure”. There were also 2 couples, (I assume by their more loving gestures at least). Both couples in their mid twenties, I’d guess. Everyone had a look of fear on their face, like an overly surreal emotional contemplative hiding (if that makes sense). Even I had the fear.

What added to the super surreal moment was the program on the TV monitor. At first I thought it was a live broadcast of MSNBC. I thought it was just a coincidence that they were airing a special on abortion doctors being murdered, until I realized the video was being looped. The looped video also broadcasted some older, local news coverage of this clinic’s doctor. They showed him throwing on a bullet proof vest and putting a pistol in the holster that sat on his hip. This was an everyday routine for him. They also had footage of him at the shooting range nailing his paper targets perfectly. He discussed his current building and how well it is protected. Apparently his last location downtown had been firebombed 4 times, which led to him building with masonry blocks suitable for a bomb-shelter. The building also has bullet proof glass windows and if someone were to come within 17 feet of the building, an alarm is triggered.

After returning the necessary medical paperwork, my friend was called up to a counter where the office assistant asked if she wanted any medication for the procedure and her cash payment of $600 was taken. The clerk said that the entire process would take about a half of an hour and the actual procedure, just 2 minutes. That’s roughly $300 a minute for that doctor’s time. She handed her more informational papers to read, about aftercare and then asked what my relationship was to her. “Are you sister’s?” she asked. I jokingly replied, “No, I’m the baby’s daddy!” She was called to the back pretty quickly.

I was in the waiting room for maybe 20 minutes as she was back there. The room became empty; it was now just me and the receptionist who was washing the glass of the front door. She was an interesting looking woman, at least 55 years old, her hair was thick and gray to her chin, and she wore large glasses and bright eye shadow on her aged skin. I took the opportunity to question the reasoning for looping the video. She explained that most that enter will only be there once in their lifetime, others more than once, she and the staff, they are there everyday, practically. That being the case, many walk in with a nonchalant, getting my teeth cleaned at the dentist attitude. She explained that many don’t realize how the staff at a clinic risks their lives everyday to protect a woman’s freedom of choice. It made plenty of sense. Not only do they risk their lives coming to work, but people in this profession are putting themselves and their families at risk on their off time, too. There are devoted groups out there (often religious) that focus on killing abortion doctors and these hits don’t always take place at the office.

Before I knew it, the receptionist who I was talking with says, “Hey, your friend is probably finished now.” and whisks me off to a room in the back. There I see a small open space with 6 reclining chairs, each with a blanket and pillow and a stool placed next to each chair. There were 3 women in there. Each reclined back, sipping water out of Dixie cups. They all looked real loopy. She sat me on one of the stools and a minute later a nurse brought in my friend who looked extremely dazed. My friend had no recollection of the actual procedure (due to the drugs). They handed her, her very own Dixie cup. She was in that recovery room for maybe 5 minutes, at that point they asked her to enter the restroom to check to see if she was bleeding excessively. When she indicated that there wasn’t an excess, they took her blood pressure, handed her some “just in case” prescriptions, a receipt and shoved us on our way. It was like a quick serve restaurant or drive-thru wedding, but not as fun.

It was over for her. It will always be in her memory, and she would have cramping for days after, but the “oops” that worried her and she wasn’t ready for, was now gone. Conception is so interesting. There are people/couples out there that would pay anything to get pregnant, and yet there bodies won’t allow it. There are also homos like me or you who need a donor to accomplish such a thing or are restricted in some states from even adopting. Then there are those that have such fertile flowers and accidentally get pregnant, but aren’t ready for it. There are also women that become pregnant because they were the victim of a violent sex crime, this could be anyone, gay or straight. What would you do, if this happened to you?

I think back to this little ceramic plate that was displayed in the waiting room. It was done by a local artist. Engraved into the plate was a silhouette of a woman and the letters above it read, “Trust Women”. Those 2 small words say so much. Trust a woman, know that her choice is the right one for her and maybe even an unborn child. Trust that another child won’t be deprived or put into foster care because they were “an accident” and not afforded. Trust women to know that, if she had that child, she would be reminded everyday of the torture her violator put her through. Trust that her choice was a hard one, but she did the right thing for herself.

*To purchase prints of my original artwork (image of woman’s back as shown on this page or other prints), please visit: http://smorrisart.finerworks.com/

 

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