where’s the concern for the mental health of the person forced to carry an unwanted pregnancy?

—Rebecca Haller, D.C.

The morning Roe was overturned, I thought about all of the people it was going to impact in the hours, days, weeks, months and years to come. I thought about the people already sitting in clinic waiting rooms around the country at the moment the decision came down. Like so many people, I know what that waiting room looks like, I know what it feels like to sit there.

Halloween fell on a Friday my sophomore year in college. We played football at home on that Saturday. I attended my sorority’s weekly meeting Sunday night. Then on Monday I went to Planned Parenthood before heading to my classes for the day.

I drove home from an ex-boyfriend’s house early that Saturday morning. I left as soon as he passed out.

A guy friend would later ask me, “What did you think was going to happen by going to see him?”

I’m not sure what I expected. Something along the lines of hanging out with an old friend? But I know what I didn’t expect—and that’s what ended up happening. 

I remember my head hitting the wooden headboard repeatedly. Hard. I thought it was going to knock me out. I asked him to stop more than once. I tried to get out from under him. I told him he was hurting me. I tried to focus on a point on the ceiling thinking that would prevent me from unconsciousness and maybe if I stopped resisting it would be over sooner. 

We’d slept together before—but never like this—which further confused matters for me. We’d hung out plenty of times since breaking up. I considered him a good friend. 

On the drive home I listed all the reasons it was my fault, what had happened. Still, I vowed to never speak to him again, a promise I kept. I drove through downtown on my way to the sorority house where I was living at the time. I’d driven by Planned Parenthood before so I knew roughly where it was. I’m not sure where I got the idea to go there, or the idea that they would be open 24/7. My heart sank when they weren’t open and I learned they wouldn’t be until Monday. 

The sun still had a couple more hours to go before it would relieve the darkness so I showered and climbed into my bed when I got home. I kept the light on. My roommate was away. I couldn’t sleep so I turned on the TV. There was an infomercial selling exercise DVDs playing. A woman was espousing the importance of women incorporating strength exercises into their workout routines. It seemed like something I could’ve used a few hours earlier so I called the 1-800 number on the bottom of the screen to lock in the deal that included the “free” workout bands. The desire to seek some semblance of control is never far.

I tried to act normal, whatever that means, when the other women in the house woke up that morning. Game days always came with an added element of electricity. I had a buzz pulsating through me, too, albeit for different reasons, but it made it easier to play off. I had plans to tailgate with girlfriends so I went through the motions and we all got ready for the game together.

It was an afternoon game, and it was a warm one, so we were tailgating at the hottest point of the day. At one point before the game one of my friends asked if I was OK, I looked pale, she said, no small feat for someone with my rosy cheeks. I suggested we get in her car and turn on the A.C. to cool down for a few. There were four of us. We talked about how hot it was. I was really quiet. Then I told them what happened the night before. I’m sure I didn’t call it rape. I’m sure I didn’t call it sexual assault. I’m sure I just said he’d been really aggressive and that I was worried. I felt dizzy. I felt nauseous. I felt really out of it. I’d later learn I likely had a mild concussion. At the time, and with sex ed being what it was when I was growing up in the south, I thought for sure I was pregnant at 19 and already experiencing symptoms. 

A very kind nurse would gently explain to me Monday morning as tears streamed down my face that I wouldn’t be able to tell if I was pregnant for some time. Either way, I knew for certain I did not want to be pregnant at that time, and most definitely not in that way. She asked if I was raped. I said no. She asked if I needed a sexual assault forensic exam. I said no. I left Planned Parenthood that day with a prescription for the morning after pill, Plan B, which I picked up and took on my way to campus. 

I ran into a friend that day who I knew had taken the morning after pill our freshman year. She gave me a sense of what to expect, but even that conversation was conducted in whispers. I didn't really talk about it with anyone after that. I didn’t get my period for another six weeks which were the most stressful six weeks of my entire collegiate career. I skipped classes to stay in bed. My grades suffered. My mental health was an absolute wreck—not because I’d taken emergency contraception, that decision I was completely confident about, but because I knew I did not want to be pregnant and was afraid I might be. 

Mental health is a subject I am well acquainted with, and one I’ve studied extensively in recent years. We’ve all seen mental health become the flavor du jour of Republicans recently, which would be thrilling if it weren’t so hypocritical. 

With every mass shooting, we hear how concerned politicians are about the mental health of the men committing these atrocious crimes, terrorist acts really, and yet where’s the concern for the mental health of a person forced to carry an unwanted pregnancy? It’s far easier to feign concern over someone’s mental health after it’s too late. Where’s the concern, the compassion, when there’s still an opportunity to prevent the trauma of forcing an unwanted pregnancy?

For more on this subject, I highly recommend reading a fantastic book called The Turnaway Study, by Dr. Diana Greene Foster, a first-of-its-kind study spanning 10 years and 1,000 people (some whom had abortions and some whom wanted one but were unable to get one). The study sought to answer the hotly debated questions, “does abortion hurt women? And on the flip side, what are the harms from not being able to access a wanted abortion?” (Spoiler: “We find no evidence that abortion hurts women… women who received an abortion were either the same or, more frequently, better off than women who were denied an abortion… We find many ways in which women were hurt by carrying unwanted pregnancies to term.”)

In an earlier draft of this, I cited the 11 states where abortion bans don’t make allowances for victims of rape or incest. And the states where lawmakers are already discussing future restrictions of morning-after pills and IUDs. And the hospital systems that have already temporarily stopped providing Plan B out of fear of legal ramifications. And the Republican lawmaker in Missouri who sponsored a bill earlier this year making treatment of ectopic pregnancies illegal, only to confess that he did not know what that treatment entailed. And the 12 states that already allow doctors, nurses and pharmacists to refuse contraceptives to patients, including Plan B. And the people currently unable to get potentially life-saving prescriptions right now because those medications can also be used in a medicinal abortion and pharmacists fear the legal ramifications of dispensing them. 

But while those are all very serious, extreme ramifications of the overturning of Roe, it’s a distraction from the bottom line, which is that every person in this country should have the right to decide what happens to their bodies.

Here’s what gets me about this whole debate: Anti-choice and pro-choice are unfairly framed as two sides of a spectrum, when in reality choice is the middle ground. If you don’t want an abortion, you shouldn’t be forced to get one. If you don’t want children, you shouldn’t be forced to have one. Those choices, to me, are what liberty and freedom are all about. 

Every major medical group from the American College of OBGYNs and the American Medical Association to the American Academy of Pediatrics and the American Psychiatric Association has condemned the Dobbs decision overturning Roe. Politicians and judges shouldn’t be making medical decisions. Period. And all it will take is Republicans winning the House and Senate this November for a nationwide ban to be enacted. They’re not even being quiet about their desires for it anymore. That’s why I feel so strongly about creating a safe space for people to share their stories here. I’m done being quiet and I hope you are too.