We know D.C. Get our free newsletter to stay in the know.
Since late August, a woman has been journaling her unwanted pregnancy through tumblr site “What to Expect When You’re Aborting.” Writes the not-soon-to-be-mom:
I spend a lot of time reading blogs. So when I found out i was knocked up I obviously googled “abortion blog”. The shit that came up was absolutely awful and distasteful propaganda. I thought the next time some one googled it this might show up.
This is what nerve.com—-a fucking sex site—-had to say about the project:
We’re tempted to call shenanigans on this whole blog, but if it’s real, it’s kind of amazing. And by amazing, we mean horrifying. We’re pro-choice, but on this, we’re conflicted. And if you’re not, you’re surer of your ideals than we are.
Oh, fuck you. This blog is meant to provide a clear, honest narrative about what having an abortion is like. And it’s written from the perspective of a young woman who refuses to apologize for wanting an abortion—-she skips all the moral and metaphysical posturing and provides real, practical insights for other women considering making the same decision. That’s not horrifying; that’s important.
The 23-year-old anonymous blogger catalogs the entire process, from the cost of her abortion options ($375 for the “miscarriage pill”; $525 for the “Twilight sedation”), to her early symptoms of pregnancy, to the mandatory counseling session she has to sit through in order to receive the procedure.
Like any good blog, “What to Expect When You’re Aborting” is diversified: It also includes a remedy for morning sickness (ginger ale, ginger vitamins, and Saltines); a suggested anti-abortion Netflix queue (Look Who’s Talking, Nine Months, Cheaper By the Dozen); and a discussion on the emergence of pickle cravings (“Next thing you know I’m going to be walking around braless in MooMoo, weeping, shoveling vanilla ice cream in my mouth, while my breasts swell joyous maternal milk. BAH!”)
The highlight of the blog, though, is the woman’s voice, which remains delightfully sarcastic through the ordeal. From the counseling experience:
I can’t step outside because THERE IS A PRIEST ON THE HIS KNEES PLAYING GUITAR AND A WHOLE CONGREGATION OF SCRAWNY WHITE FOLK READY TO POUNCE ON ME WITH PRAYER. . . . we’re essentially held hostage inside the clinic because of these righteous fucks. If you stepped out of the door you we’re approached by the foot soldiers of jesus. But! if there were men folk around you, they stayed away. So whenever I went out for air I tried to go by the nervous smoking boyfriends and husbands (it’s like a reverse maternity waiting room!)
Photo by PinkMoose