Reduced access to abortions, reduced access to freedom

By Mae Stier

Sun contributor

As we approach Independence Day, I wonder at the concepts of “freedom” and “equality.” At the ways our governing bodies have historically made laws that only represent a portion of our population. From the inception of our country, wealthy white men have been protected by the laws they created for themselves, but people of color, women, children, and impoverished people have not received the same protections. Take a step back, and the roots of our country’s laws become clear. They are not guided by morality, not made in the constituents’ best interests. No, our government is built upon the maintenance of power for a small group of people at the expense of the rest. Control, not care or empathy, is the ruling doctrine of the United States of America.

As a woman born in the late 1980s, it feels difficult to see Roe v. Wade overturned. Women now have less autonomy than they did when I was born, and I fear what comes next. I fear that overturning Roe v. Wade is just the first step: I worry that what comes next is a federal abortion ban. This is concerning for me as a woman, of course, but I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the privilege I carry as a white woman who does not live in poverty. Access to healthcare, including abortion care, is always more available to those with some power than those oppressed by the powers that be.

There are so many conversations in our country right now—many opinions about abortion, choice, and fetal personhood—all of which feel overwhelming. Roe v. Wade has been a divisive issue since its initial ruling in 1973. My position on abortion rights has changed in the 15 years since I became an adult, as I have come to understand the lack of assistance offered to parents. I now see abortion access as a necessary step toward equity, especially in a society that does little for parents and their children once they have left the womb.

I do not think the political decision to limit access to abortions has anything to do with care for children. As a mother, I feel the lack of societal support deeply. I have raised a near-three-year-old with zero parental leave, no access to childcare outside of what we can secure privately, and minimal financial assistance to cover the cost of giving birth (despite having health insurance). I have friends and family members struggling to feed their babies through an ongoing national formula shortage, with little help from our government. I have turned on the news often these last few years to learn of another mass shooting at a school while our government continues to value gun lobbyists more than the lives of children. So no, I do not believe that those in power care for families. Not for children and certainly not their mothers.

I am with the individuals who need access to abortion to have an opportunity for equality. An opportunity to survive. I am for reproductive justice that offers autonomy to birthing persons. Women and children experience poverty at higher rates than men; poverty rates for female-led single-family households are twice as high as rates for male-led single-family homes. Birthing people utilize abortions for many reasons, but I would argue that all of them are to ensure the health and safety of the person carrying the fetus.

Ultimately, allowing states to decide whether to ban or allow abortions will threaten the most vulnerable. Some states that have already banned abortions, like Arkansas, have some of the highest maternal mortality rates and poverty rates for children in the country, with little social protection after birth. In states that ban abortion and make no exception for abortion in cases of rape and incest—as would be the case in Michigan, but for the emergency injunction keeping a 1931 law from going into effect—even children will be forced to give birth. What about that is humane or just?

Here is where our conversations about abortion access should begin. Not with theological debates about when fetal personhood begins. Every human and religion views this differently. We have the freedom to believe this differently. Instead, our conversations should focus on preserving the personhood of birthing individuals and ensuring that pregnant people have access to necessary care when needed. Limiting abortion access will increase maternal death rates, which are already high in the United States when compared to other developed nations, especially for Black mothers. It will likely also increase poverty rates for women and children.

As we think about freedom this week, consider the experiences of those with less freedom than we have. Think of what freedom looks like, or doesn’t look like, for those of a different socioeconomic class, race, or gender. Let us consider the lived experiences of others. And in that consideration, may we find empathy, and maybe some rage too, as we acknowledge that the rights of our neighbors are disappearing. We cannot stand idly by and allow a group of unelected officials—whose decision opposes the polled opinion of the majority of Americans on this issue—to dictate what half of the population is allowed to do with their bodies. For there to be liberty and justice for all, abortion must be secured as a right, and birthing people must have the autonomy to access this vital form of healthcare when they and their healthcare providers—not their government—deem it necessary.