PJ McIlvaine

Because I’m old enough to remember the days of back-alley abortions

I’m old enough to remember the days of back-alley abortions. And then Roe v. Wade became the law of the land and it was settled law. I had no reason to be concerned. It didn’t affect me. Even when I got wind that the Supreme Court was on the verge of upending decades of precedent, I told myself common sense would prevail. Why would anyone in 2022 want a woman to have fewer rights over her body? Throwing this issue back to the states would result in real bodily harm to women at a vulnerable time in their lives. No woman should be forced to carry a baby. Women are more than breeders.

I say this as the mother of three strong, independent women and a young, innocent granddaughter who has no idea what’s at stake. I do. 

In 1993, I became pregnant with my fourth child, our long-desired boy. As a family, we were thrilled. Unfortunately, I conceived when I’d just weaned off anxiety/panic attack medication. My doctor assured me all was well. My body said otherwise. I had bad morning sickness and off-and-on spotting. As the weeks passed, my worries heightened. During one exam, my doctor noted that my dates must be off because the fetus’s development didn’t correspond. That should’ve been a tip-off. 

Subsequently, I ended up in the ER for an emergency procedure—one that is now routinely denied in several states—after a sonogram revealed that my baby had died in utero. Hours later, I was sobbing hysterically at home.

Years later, I still vividly remember that awful day. Losing a baby is horrible enough, but being denied necessary care is worse. On November 5, I’ll proudly cast my vote for Kamala Harris to restore reproductive rights for my daughters and granddaughter. I can do no less.

Author/screenwriter/rabble-rouser PJ McIlvaine lives on eastern Long Island with her family.