SIX GENERATIONS OF FIRST BORN WOMEN

ROE VS WADE AND ME

It was 1969, my last year of grad school. We'd been married a few months. He was ten years older than me. I hadn't yet figured out the role I was supposed to play with his two kids. His divorce papers were still wet and we were flat broke. Based on the alimony settlement this condition could last indefinitely.

Those birth control pills I'd been depending on for years had started to wreak havoc with my skin. Dark patches of pigmentation around my eyes - kind-of like a raccoon, it was the high level of hormones in those pills. Back then, in the '50's and 60's they had no idea what a "safe" level was - so we "early adopters" were like guinea pigs. I'd quit the pill and had switched to other means, usually a condom. Life was speeding along, going to school, working in my studio getting ready for my thesis exhibition, teaching adult ed courses at night when - whamo!!!!!!! I'm pregnant. Holy shit. I can't believe it. I can't accept it. We were trying to prevent it. We can't afford it. I'm just a kid myself. I don't want kids. I'd be a lousy mother.

He loved me and he loved kids and would have dealt with the pregnancy if I'd wanted it but he also knew our struggle would be all that more difficult. I figured I'd get an abortion. I hadn't looked into anything like this before; there was no need till now. I took it for granted I would just go to my doctor and ask for one. After all, this is Boston, a liberal college town. We'd been marching in the streets for our rights, for civil rights, for women's rights and against this insane war. We women were strong. Right? Wrong! Abortion was not being done, legally, anywhere in Massachusetts. I was a bit stupid to assume I had control over my body. I panicked. There is only a very brief window of opportunity here and decisions have to be made that can change your life FOREVER! My husband started asking around discretely if anyone could help us. A friend of his knew about a clinic on some island off shore somewhere. I'd have to fly there, it was so expensive, and I was scared, out of the question, no way.

A former college roommate and friend was working in a hospital in Philly. She told me she knew they did abortions there but only for residents of Pennsylvania and only under very special circumstances. You had to apply to a hospital review board. It was made up of doctors and a psychiatrist. After applying you had to go home and wait till they called you. My friend Mila had the inside scoop and she said the only
women that were approved for abortions in that hospital were the ones that appeared to be totally nuts, who were a danger to themselves and potentially to the child should they have one. I decided to give it a try. Mila let me use her home address as my residence. I stayed with her a few days between the application and being called before the review board.

I was sweating bullets that day which was helpful. I knew this would have to be the performance of my life. I'd done theater in high school, got a standing ovation once in the senior play. I knew I could freak out. I still don't remember exactly what happened that day. I literally drove myself crazy. I remember someone leading me out of the room where I had sat in front of the hospital board. But I was dazed. I
had no idea what they thought of my case. I flew back to Boston and waited.

Mila told me that if they approved my abortion they would call when they had a bed available and I would have 24 hours to show-up or loose my chance. Guess they'd offer it to the next poor soul in line. Back in Boston, my husband was out of town at a track meet. (He was a coach at a local university) I was at work when I got a message there was a call from my friend in Philly. This is it. My hands shook as I dialed her number. Mila? "Get your butt down here now. They've got a bed for you and we've got to get you to the hospital". I thought I would faint. No time to get in touch with my husband, got to get to the airport, and get a flight-will there be a seat? This is all a blur. I got a flight, my friend Mila helped me get to the hospital, checked in, in the bed, lights out. Don't remember a thing till I came to, must've been a few
hours later. It was all over. I could go home.