January 28, 2012
Crawl Inside
If you want to crawl inside my uterus, Mr. Rich White Republican
Then I want you to see everything
Not just the parts that are supposedly meant to nurture another human life
Not just the parts that you want to control and turn into a fetus factory
Not just the fantastical, sparkly wonderland that you seem to think pregnancy is
(Which is funny coming from someone who has never been, or will ever be, pregnant)
I want you to see me shaking, locked in my bathroom
Pregnancy test in hand, praying for that negative
Crying with relief when it comes
I want you to see my womb
Ravaged by a silent sickness that went unchecked for months
I want you to see the fifteen-year-old girl shaking in silence
Staring at the little plus that will change her life forever
Knowing that her father is going to beat her, possibly to death this time
I want you to see the thirty-year-old woman doubled over the toilet
Heaving up the only meal she was able to even attempt eating that day
Writhing in nauseated agony and cursing God, despite how much she wants that child
I want you to see the mother of six whose birth control failed
Who finds herself pregnant again and desperate
Who finds herself in a back-alley abortion clinic because every other reputable clinic has shut down
Who finds herself in the morgue because the “doctor” pulled out her intestines along with the fetus, and her blood went septic, killing her slowly and painfully
Crawl inside my uterus, Mr. Rich White Republican
See that all of these women who are screaming, groaning, pushing, laboring
We are not screaming in the agony of contractions
We are not groaning through the pain of birth
We are not pushing out anything from between our legs
We are not laboring to bring forth new life
We are laboring to bring forth our own
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