Choices

This past weekend marked the anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision. My Yahoo and FB accounts were filled with pro-life and pro-choice messages and links. I ignored all of them, my personal feelings on the matter having already been decided.

The increased talk around the subject made me think of something that happened a long time ago. I was dating a guy who didn't believe in using birth control. If I wanted it, I would have to be responsible for it. So I made an appointment and went to the clinic. It was all very routine, if a bit depressing (I went alone. I had to walk). I got an exam, and a supply of birth control pills. I was to wait until my next period, then start the pills on the next Sunday. Guess who didn't want to participate?

For the next two weeks, I sweated it out. I thought through every possible scenario, from having a baby to not having a baby, to staying in school, to how to tell my parents. I did not mention any of it to my friends or my guy, for several reasons. I did a lot of tossing and turning, and was ready to make another appointment, when the guest of honor finally showed up.

I can't remember how I felt, although I am sure I was tremendously relieved. I just know that I started taking those pills the first chance I got, and I didn't quit for a very long time, through that loser and every guy afterward. And I never forgot, for good or for bad, right or wrong, how it felt to have a choice, and how it felt not to have to make it.