We held a press conference at the capitol today in order to put the pressure on Jim King to let the Women's Health and Safety Act go to vote in the senate. Women who had been physically maimed and emotionally injured by abortion drove several hours to attend and speak. Long story short, one member of the press showed up with a pad and pencil. We didn't even hold the conference; we just gave her copies of our individual stories. I've been semi-active for awhile, so my shock at the lack of concern for us is somewhat nonexistent. When I was nuts and advocated abortion I used to love to ask: "Where are 'pro-lifers' after the children are born?!" Now I know the answer is: a damn site more "there" than the "pro-choice" movement. Now I ask where the 'pro-choicers' are after the children are aborted.
I watched the women chatting from my seat across the room. Some newer, more hopeful grieving moms-turned activists were visibly disappointed. Looking at our crowd I was reminded of how little mainstream America cares about us. It made perfect sense. After all, if America cared about women, TRULY cared about women, there would be no abortion in the "land of the free".
The society that accepts abortion abandons us to knives and suction machines. They leave us to the long years and mountains of snotty tissues. They ignore our pain and offer us the grave.
I wanted to cry, not for myself, but for the collective sea of broken hearts the world refuses to acknowledge.
And they wonder why more women aren't talking.