I finished reading Choice during halftime of the Steelers game last night. (Yep. Books and football. I was a happy lady last night with two of my favorite things!) The book was amazing. The book was eye-opening. The book was easy to read. The book was hard to read. And, no, those two don’t contradict each other. It was easy to read in the fact that any book broken into short stories is easy to read. You’re continuously interested and you have a desire to keep pushing through to see if the next story is more eye-opening or as well-written as the previous one. But, at the same time, it was a hard read.

I’ve never had an abortion. I don’t have plans in my future to have an abortion. I remain pro-choice because I don’t want to be told that even if my life is in danger that I can’t have an abortion. I need to be present for my living children. And so, in the stories that recounted the abortions that these writing women have gone through, I frequently found myself putting down the book and thinking. Really hard. Thinking about what I would have done in that situation. Thinking about how that would have made me feel. Thinking about how that particular story just pushed my own limits and made me realize that there is so little I really take time to consider outside of my own safe little world box.

I also had to put down the book at times because my heart broke for these women, not just in the abortion stories. In all of them, in different ways. And not in a patronizing, pity-laden way. Sometimes it was the broken heart of a birth mother, one I could relate to entirely. Sometimes it was the brokenness that follows a miscarriage, one I can also relate to. Sometimes it was a physical, angry heartbreak for those that were forced to do things that they didn’t want to or shouldn’t have had to do and so on. My poor Husband got an earful as I read this book.

And I learned so much. Oh! These women are all amazing and fabulous writers and just plain awesome. I’m pretty peeved with myself that I didn’t take the time to purchase and read this book until now. (Though the editor in me did find a total of four errors. My head exploded with each one.)

This book pushes the envelope. It forces you to think about the what ifs that no one else wants to talk about. It is less about politics (though, of course, politics are always in our life, no?) and more about what x-choice meant for y-person. The abortion stories are not all the same. The adoption stories are not all the same. The parenting stories are not all the same. Just like in real life.

I’m going to take some time this week and hit on some of my favorite quotes from the book. There are too many to throw into one post. Stay tuned!

I finally purchased Choice: True Stories of Birth, Contraception, Infertility, Adoption, Single Parenthood, & Abortion for myself. I had a $20.00 Amazon Gift Card and thought I would spend some of it on myself instead of all on the boys. You know, like I usually do. It arrived. And I’m just overwhelmed with the awesomeness of it already. Even though I’ve found two typos and I’m only on page 29. (Oh, the editor in me.)

A quote from the introduction regarding the hard look the book takes at the different choices women have to make regarding unplanned pregnancy (and how those stories aren’t always happy-go-lucky):

When an issue is as polarized as abortion, people on both sides see the world in black and white. In order to preserve these extremes, stories that reveal gray areas are kept secret. The woman who regrets placing he child for adoption suffers in silence, lest someone think she would have been better off aborting. The woman who undergoes a painful abortion keeps quiet, lest the complexities of her situation be construed as an argument against reproductive freedom. But when these stories are suppressed, so is our empathy. Instead of listening to each other’s stories and drawing lessons from each other’s lives, we are turning a deaf ear to human experience.

Oof, that hit home. Especially lately.

I received a series of forwards from Dawn in which she had an exchange with two other women. About me. (Don’t I feel famous now?) One woman was peeved about my Redbook piece and how it was too negative. (Which, by the way, I also received word from an anti-adoption follower that it was too positive in the end. Guess I can’t please anyone.) This particular woman took it so far as to contact Redbook and let them know that publishing a story so negative about adoption was doing the world a great disservice. Nevermind the fact that the article was part of a larger piece about the hardships of motherhood. They weren’t looking for a happy piece to add to that story; they wanted other mothers who felt ostracized by the celebration of Mother’s Day to know that they aren’t alone. Nevermind the fact that my piece wasn’t overly negative. Nevermind the fact that I admitted in the piece that I must keep continuing to move forward and heal for the sake of my daughter. Nevermind any of that. She just wanted me to shut my yapper. Or, stop my fingers from moving so swiftly across the keyboard as it were.

The other woman who wasn’t Dawn involved in the series of emails reminded the one who wanted me to shut up that we all have varying experiences. Apparently this woman who doesn’t like me or my story or my writings is a woman who wants to help those touched by adoption. So, the second woman reminded her that if someone like me came to this other woman with such a story, what good would turning someone like me away do? Just because my story isn’t butterflies and rainbows, I should be turned away from any help? Isn’t that kind of, or, rather, totally backward from what people should want to be doing? Shouldn’t we be reaching out to those who have stories with shadows and rainclouds? Shouldn’t we be listening to their stories and learning what we could do differently? Shouldn’t we be fighting against unethical agencies, greedy attorneys and ignorance in general? Or should we just put on our rose-tinted glasses, sip some lemonade and smile at one another without ever hearing, learning or truly feeling the depth of emotion involved in this topic?

You know my answer.

I wish I could speed read through this book. All the same, it will take me awhile. Our lives have gotten so busy with living life that reading (and writing, at this point) have taken a side seat. Not a backseat because I still value the presence of books and words in my daily life. But, oh, I’m just up to the tip of my nose in life right now. And it’s fall! Must go outside.

But I’ll take the book with me.