page 15.1
AVAILABILITY OF ABORTION
this page is necessary as a counter to the general style of schematic
presentation. sometimes it really helps to broaden understanding to
have many examples.

First edition 1995. Fourth edition 2003 © National Network of
Abortion Funds Stories may be reproduced in context only, with
acknowledgment of the source.
NNAF
c/o CLPP
Hampshire college
Amherst MA 01002-5001
413-559-5645
413-559-6045
www.nnaf.org
info@nnaf.org
Nationwide Hotlines: Getting Help
Abortion Information (NAF) Hotline - referrals to abortion funds and
abortion providers
800-772-9100
Domestic Violence
Hotline
800-799-SAFE (7233)
Emergency Contraception Hotline
800-584-9911
HIV/AIDS Information Service
800-342-AIDS
Rape Abuse and Incest National Network Hotline
800-656-4673
Check your yellow pages for local clinics. Be aware that listings under
"abortion alternatives” or "crisis pregnancy" may be run by
anti-abortion organizations.
"I'm angry and I'm
lucky to be alive."
(ed. – we do not speak spanish, so could not edit from the
scanner.)
Abortion in the U.S. Today, Legal but Inaccessible
Marlene Gerber Fried
Thirty years after abortion was legalized in the United States, its
opponents have successfully chipped away at access to abortion
services. While in recent years fewer women are having abortions, it is
clear that many of those who do have overcome enormous obstacles to
obtain them. Ultimately, tens of thousands of women cannot get the
abortions they need.
While anti-abortion rhetoric and violence have created an atmosphere of
fear and stigma, behind the scenes this movement has engineered a
state-by-state approach to effectively restricting women's rights. They
have captured the language of the women's health movement to recast
biased, state-imposed lectures and mandatory delays as "informed
consent" for patients. In the guise of protecting women's safety, they
have gotten laws passed that impose elaborate, expensive requirements
on abortion clinics. These laws serve only to force providers to raise
their prices or drive them out of business. Violence against providers,
vandalism at clinics, and ongoing harassment have also driven providers
away. Federal welfare "reforms" provide monetary awards to states that
reduce abortion numbers, even if they are achieved because these
restrictions force women and girls to travel for care in neighboring
states. In 84% of counties there is no abortion provider, and many
people, especially in rural areas, have to travel great distances for
services. Laws requiring parental consent or notification impose
hardships of another kind, resulting in later, riskier abortions for
teenagers. Those hurt most are often girls with no families at all.
Central to the problem is the lack of public funding. In 1976, just
three years after the Supreme Court made abortion legal, Congress
passed the Hyde Amendment. This law said that federal dollars could not
pay for abortion unless the woman's life was in immediate danger. In
1993, coverage for rape and incest was added. Before Hyde, the federal
government paid for one-third of abortions. Since Hyde it has paid for
virtually none.
In spite of Hyde, 18 states pay for abortions. Still, the impact of
Hyde has been devastating to poor women and girls. The cost of a first
trimester abortion can be more than a poverty-level family lives on in
a month. For families that can barely afford to buy food, there is no
money for an abortion. In some instances, women pay for abortions with
money that was supposed to pay for rent, food, or utilities. In other
cases, they desperately try to put a few dollars aside or borrow the
money they need. "Maybe I'll have enough next week," they think, "or
maybe the week after," only to find that the cost has increased as the
pregnancy advanced. Many women cannot raise enough money in time. In
states where Medicaid* does not cover abortions for the poorest women
and girls, as many as one in every three poor women who seeks an
abortion is forced to carry her pregnancy to term just because she
cannot raise enough the money to pay for the procedure. Since welfare
reforms began in 1996, the situation has gotten worse. Today 42 million
Americans are left without health insurance, and they too are often
unable to pay for healthcare. This includes 9 million women of
childbearing
age-In 1970, abortion was outlawed everywhere in the United States. At
the time, New York was debating changing the law and appointed a panel
of "experts" to explore the issues. Who were these "experts?" Thirteen
men and one woman, a nun. Abortion activists of that time were furious
that no one was consulting the real experts — women who were
using coat hangers and drinking poison to end an unwanted pregnancy.
The activists organized a forum so that these women could tell their
stories in public. In the end, New York became the first state to make
abortion legal.
Today, the political battle rages on. Polls show that increasing
numbers of people favor making abortions more difficult to obtain.
Despite more choices of contraceptives and lower teenage birth rates,
Americans still experience many times more unplanned pregnancies and
higher abortion rates than people in European countries. Yet poor women
who pregnant are suffering. Like the activists more than 30 years ago,
we feel their voices must be heard by policymakers and the public, and
therefore we are publishing this booklet.
In the following pages, you will meet women like 19-year-old "Erica," a
single parent of two children who lives on her own without any help
from her family. Because she didn't have the money for an abortion, she
tried to use a coat hanger. She also drank an entire bottle of NyQuil
and took two bottles of tetracycline. And "Janet," a 45-year-old
rancher in a state that does not pay for abortion and whose doctor
could not perform one because his hospital wouldn't allow it. And
Marsha, who left her abusive husband and then found out she was
pregnant.
Legal but Out of Reach gives us a glimpse into these women's lives. It
shows us some of the reasons why poor women have abortions. They may be
unable to take care of themselves and the children they already have.
They may feel they cannot handle another child. They may be battered,
pregnant from rape or incest, or suffering an illness made worse by the
pregnancy. Some are using alcohol or drugs. Some are homeless. Some are
in bad relationships. Why do poor women have abortions? For the same
reason other women do.
Like women with more money, poor women are trying to do their best for
themselves and their families.
We picked stories to illustrate the different barriers women face.
While the lack of funding is key to all of the women here, there are
other issues involved which lead them to their abortion decision. These
are real accounts, some told in the women's own voices. The stories
were gathered from the members of the National Network of Abortion
Funds. We are a growing organization of grassroots groups in almost
every state who raise money for women who need abortions. Many of the
member groups also provide rides to clinics, places to stay, and other
types of assistance.
While our member groups assist thousands of women each year, there are
thousands more women in need. Our efforts cannot fill the gap left by
denial of federal and state funding. We hope the experience documented
here will help convince legislators, judges and the general public that
low-income women deserve the same reproductive rights as women with
money.
We thank the women who shared
their stories. Their
struggles and their pain remind us that this is a fight for
women’s lives.
They reignite our rage and inspire our activism.
Saieeda
My name is Saieeda Davis, I'm a 17-year-old mother and a student. When
I found out that I was pregnant in August of last year, I knew that I
wasn't ready to have another child. I'd had several problems with the
pill, and had skipped using condoms once, so now I was in this
situation. I knew that an abortion was the right decision at that time,
but had no idea where the money was coming from. I had just started a
new job that I didn't want to lose, and was transferring to a new
school in the fall. I knew that I would love my baby, but that doesn't
mean that I could afford to raise her or him. My mother had just
completed a 13-month drug rehabilitation program, and was trying to get
custody of myself and four siblings. In the end, my mother was able to
help pay for the abortion that I needed with money that she had been
required to save in rehab. The rest of the money came from the Women's
Medical Fund. If Medical Assistance had covered this abortion, my
mother could have kept the savings that she needed to start over. The
government that complains so much about women on welfare that keep
having babies did nothing to help us.
When I started that school year I realized that I had made the right
decision in not having another child. My grades had gone down with my
first pregnancy, but now I had a chance to improve them. And I did! I
was going to school everyday now, and getting As and Bs — I was
even doing well in math (which in the past I had always failed). I
started thinking about different career choices, like criminal law and
journalism. I still haven't decided between the two, but I know that
I'll do one or the other.... I'm determined to finish school and follow
through with my dreams.
April
I am the mother of four children, 5, 7, 12 and a 1 6-year-old girl. I'm
writing because no mother or her daughter should go through what we
went through — what my daughter still has nightmares about.
My daughter April came to me when she was pregnant. After she missed
her period twice, I became worried and we talked. I got one of those
home tests and well, she was pregnant. We both decided she wasn't ready
and I couldn't take on another kid. So we looked through the phone book
and found a place called "Crisis Pregnancy Center." They were very nice
on the phone and said, "Oh yes, come in, we do abortion counseling,
free testing and after-abortion counseling!"
So the next day we went together. They gave her a test just like the
one she used at home and they said it would take an hour, which seemed
strange to me, but I figured maybe this test took longer because it
would tell them how pregnant she was. Then they asked us what we wanted
to do, and my daughter and I said we decided the best thing for her to
do was have an abortion and how much would that cost? The two ladies
said, "Please wait a minute" and left us — I figured it was to
get us some information. But they came back with a doll and scissors.
Now this doll was one of these black cabbage patch dolls and the
scissors were big and sharp. The ladies got mean-looking and handed the
doll and the scissors to my daughter and said, "This is what your baby
looks like now and we want you to start cutting her up because that's
what will happen if you get an abortion — so start cutting!" I
was so shocked I couldn't move for a minute and my daughter looked so
sad and then she started screaming. Well, this brought me around real
fast and I grabbed her and threw the doll at those ladies and got her
out of there fast! I later found out it wasn't a real clinic after all,
which just makes me so mad.
My daughter cried for days, couldn't sleep or eat. Well, it took four
weeks altogether, plus the school counselor and school nurse who taught
her about just how big her baby was and that an abortion wasn't like
scissors... she was so scared. With the correct medical information,
April decided that she did want to have an abortion.
But we had another problem because now April was 14 weeks pregnant and
I couldn't afford it. See, I raise my kids alone and work two jobs, but
I only had enough money for a first trimester abortion. The school
nurse explained to me that up to 12 weeks the abortion costs $275, but
after that it goes up every week. They told me I would need another
$200. Well, I can't tell you how hard it was to get $275 together, she
might as well have said another $2,000! I called the National Abortion
Federation and was told that the abortion funds in Texas were out of
money. NAF told me about the Women's Reproductive Rights Assistance
Project (WRRAP), a fund that helps women and girls all over the
country. The clinic called them for me. I prayed all that night.
The next morning the clinic called to tell me that the WRRAP fund had
$200 for us and we could come in tomorrow! I got off the phone
and cried and thanked God for these people I never met. I know this
decision was hard for all of us, but I know as a mother it was the
right choice. April is only 16 and still in high school. She
needs to grow up herself first. I sent WRRAP a thank you card from me
and April along with $10 to use for someone else's daughter. I pray no
one else's child ever has to be handed a doll and a scissors and I also
pray that WRRAP will be there the next time someone else's mother has
nowhere else to turn.
Tara
Last summer, Tara appeared at the Fund's office, with her husband and
6-year-old daughter in tow. She admitted to a drug problem and said her
in-laws were practicing "tough love" by throwing her out. She'd been on
the streets for a couple of days — it was all a blur. She had
$150 and wanted to get an abortion before she spent that on more drugs.
The Fund gave her the number of a drug and alcohol hotline, and lent
her $250 - which they sent directly to the clinic -so she could get the
abortion immediately. Nearly a year later, the Fund received this note:
"... I am very grateful to you for loaning me $250 for an abortion
procedure this past summer. At the time I was living in a motel and
could not even feed my two children. I had to steal food and was
arrested for it. My husband and I were in an active addiction to drugs
and alcohol, and it wasn't long after the procedure that my children
were taken and placed in a foster home. I now have 8 months sobriety
with the help of NA and AA, and I have a new home that's stable. My
kids came home on May 1 st. I feel indebted to you but cannot afford
anything to repay your services. Every day is a struggle to cover my
bills."
Sandra
Sandra was a 17-year-old junior in high school. She lived in a
state that requires her to notify her parents if she plans to have an
abortion. She knew she could not tell her parents because they are
fundamentalists and would never allow her to have an abortion if they
found out. She was also afraid of violence, and of their not letting
her go to college. Sandra confided in her school counselor, who
referred her to a clinic. She saved money from her after-school job for
several weeks before calling the clinic for an
appointment. ;,
Sandra discovered that she needed to raise enough money to take the
train to a neighboring state, where there are no parental consent laws,
and two nights in a hotel, since the clinic required her to stay within
an hour's ride for each day it would take to complete the procedure.
The abortion would cost much more than she expected, and she had to
have it within two weeks or she would be too far along in her
pregnancy. The clinic referred her to a local abortion fund for the
remainder.
Consuela
My fiance and I, we sat down and discussed our options. We both have
financial aid. I'm in college now, and of course that pays off in the
end, but I'm not going to have the time, the energy or the money to
finish if I have a baby. If I have an abortion, it may seem like a
selfish thing to some people, but what kind of life is the child going
to have really? I don't have money for doctor's bills or for taking
care of a baby, and I don't want to sit home on welfare.
I live with my mom. How can I go to her and say, "Mom, I'm pregnant and
I need some money for an abortion. Can you help me?" She's really
struggling financially. Our refrigerator broke down and we can't afford
to buy a new one. It's been like that for a couple of months.
I started asking for help and I got nowhere. Finally, I got referred to
the abortion fund. It was like, "These people are actually willing to
help me!" And I did have some money; it's not like I was expecting a
handout, or for someone to pay my way. It wasn't like that at all.
Shelley
I'm on 900 mg. of Lithium a day, and I'm really scared there may be a
chance there could be something wrong with the baby. I'm a single
parent and am employed at the same time. I work part-time in day care,
but I only bring home about $60 a week.
Amy
Amy was a streetwise 17-year-old mother from West Philadelphia. She had
been living with her grandmother for the last three years because her
mother was in prison, but their relationship was strained. Her toddler
lived with his other grandmother. When she became pregnant again, Amy
knew that she could not get an abortion with her medical card. She had
no way of raising hundreds of dollars for an abortion. In desperation,
Amy drank a bottle of rubbing alcohol, thinking it would cause a
miscarriage. She was taken to the burn unit of a nearby hospital. While
still in intensive care, Amy said that she would try again to
self-abort as soon as she got out of the hospital, and would do
whatever it took, no matter how self-destructive. Although privately
sympathetic, no doctor at the Catholic hospital would sign for her to
have an abortion under Pennsylvania's "life-threat" exception to the
Medicaid abortion ban. A nurse on the night shift put her in touch with
the Greater Philadelphia Women's Medical Fund, which paid the full fee
for Amy's early abortion.
Edith
Edith was a 15-year-old who called the Chicago Abortion Fund for
assistance in the 16th week of her pregnancy. Still in high school,
Edith had no financial resources. The father — only 16 himself
— said he wanted her to continue the pregnancy and refused to
help. Edith lived with her mother, who was ill and was already
supporting two other children on public aid. Because they had recently
had their electricity turned off, Edith knew there was no money for an
abortion. She did not want to tell her mother because she knew this
would cause her a great deal of stress. She was able to borrow a very
small amount of money from her friends. She'd scheduled three abortion
appointments, postponing each time because she hadn't been able to
raise the necessary funds. She was becoming more and more frightened.
Tina
Tina had one child and was living in subsidized housing. With the help
of a supportive friend, she had ended a physically abusive
relationship. Her ex had threatened to harm her and her daughter; she
lived in
fear that he would act on the threat. The decision to abort the
pregnancy was difficult for her, but she
knew he would never leave her alone if she had his child. Tina felt
that it took all her strength to make those decisions —
discovering that she had to come up with money for the abortion as well
made her feel hopeless. Still, she persevered and found an abortion
fund. Ending the pregnancy enabled Tina to make a clean break from her
former partner.
Rita
Rita had been using the injectable contraceptive Depo-Provera
consistently for a year when she went for her fifth shot and found out
she was 15 weeks pregnant. She had not menstruated the entire time,
a . common side-effect of the contraceptive. Rita was
warned that the Depo-Provera may have damaged the fetus. Raising three
children with only a public aid check and food stamps, Rita had no
money leftover for an abortion. As it was, her monthly rent was more
than her check and she had to sell some of her belongings just to cover
the rent.
Suzanne
Suzanne was a married mother of two who was preparing to go back to
work now that her younger child was ready for daycare. She was raped,
and blamed herself for having been careless. Shortly afterwards, she
saw the man at the supermarket and became completely traumatized,
afraid to leave her house again or tell anyone about it — even
her husband, who seemed satisfied that she just wanted to stay home
with the kids. After two months, she knew she was pregnant but didn't
dare carry the pregnancy to term, in case it was the rapist who had
made her pregnant. She was afraid her husband would reject her because
of the rape, and her family — all strict Roman Catholics —
would condemn her for seeking an abortion. If she used their health
insurance through her husband's job, he would find out.
Suzanne contacted the abortion fund, which arranged for her to have
some counseling with a rape crisis worker. The rape counselor
accompanied her to the clinic. A couple of months later, Suzanne got
the courage to tell her mother and sister what had happened. She was
surprised and relieved when they told her she'd done the right thing.
Ten years earlier, as an unmarried teenager, Suzanne had placed a child
for adoption and struggled through a long depression before she put her
life back together. Her sister and mother said they knew their church's
answer — adoption — was not the right answer in every case.
Vicki
Vicki thought she'd saved enough money - $300 -from her part-time job
when she called the San Diego clinic to schedule an abortion. A single
mother of three, she was used to having no medical insurance because it
wasn't offered through her job, and a private plan would have cost most
of her income. Then the clinic told her that because her children had
all been born by C-section, she needed a specialized sonogram to check
for the location of the placenta in order to insure her safety during
the abortion. That would bring the total medical expenses to $600.
Vicki was already at her credit card limit. She could not afford to
take time off from work to apply for Medi-Cal, which covers abortions;
she was afraid that it would cost not only the lost day, but possibly
her job as well. As Vicki cried in shock on the phone, the counselor
told her about an abortion loan fund to help cover her costs. She was
very grateful and continues to pay the fund back a little every month.
Terry
I called the ACCESS hotline in San Francisco because I needed an
abortion and was running out of time. I had been trying to get from my
home outside Modesto to the clinic in Sacramento, but I had no
transportation and no childcare for my three children. I had looked
into taking a train, but I couldn't be away from my kids that long. I'd
already missed a couple of appointments because I just couldn't put all
the details together. I was sure I would not be able to get an
abortion, and would have to have another child. As it turned out, I
missed the cutoff for that clinic, and ACCESS referred me to the
closest clinic that could help me — in Fremont, even further
away. The clinic gave me their last appointment so I would be able to
get the older two kids off to school before leaving.
ACCESS found all these people to help me -
four, to be exact. One woman picked me up and drove me to the train
station and paid for my ticket to Fremont. There, I stayed with another
volunteer, Roberta, who put me up for two nights. Her daughter, Liz,
who is my age, took care of my one-year old baby while I was at the
clinic. It was comforting to be able to bring the baby - I'd never been
away from my kids for so long. Then Joel arrived the last afternoon and
drove us all back to Modesto. Roberta was so great — she jumped
in the car and rode all the way home with us to keep me company.
I was so happy that I didn't give up and all these people stood by me
and went out of their way to help. I never thought anyone would do
anything like that for me. I'm usually the one everyone else relies on.
Lourdes
Mi nombre es Lourdes. Tengo treinta y cuatro anos de edad. Estoy casada
y tengo tres ninos. Una trabajadora social de la clinica de salud llamo
a la Hnea directa del centre de mujeres pidiendo informacion y ayuda
financiera para mi aborto. Maria, una consejera de la linea directa, le
dijo que teru'a que hablar directamente conmigo para pedirme
informacion personal y para hacer los arreglos necesarios. Yo tenia un
poco de miedo porque era la primera vez que solicitaba servicio para un
aborto y no sabia nada sobre el proceso. Cuando llame, Maria me explico
el procedimiento en detalle. Ella me explico todo desde la primera
cita, me dijo el tiempo aproximado, que duraria el procedimiento y me
explico cuales eran los instrumentos quirurgicos que usarian, la
anestesia, el tiempo de recuperacion, etc. Estaba bien sorprendida y
tambien senti un gran alivio porque en Mexico habfa conocido a alguien
quien tuvo una experiencia muy diferente. Me di cuenta que en El Paso,
Texas, el procedimiento era diferente y mas seguro. La falta de
transportacion en mi pueblo en Mexico es un gran problema y crea un
obstaculo para que las mujeres visiten al ginecologo; por eso es que no
pude obtener la pfldora u otro metodo anticonceptivo. El dia de la
cita, mi esposo y yo abordamos el autobus a las 4:55 de la manana para
asegurarnos de que ibamos a llegar a tiempo. Todo sucedio como dijo
Maria. Poco tiempo despues del procedimiento, llame a la linea directa
para contarle a Maria que yo estaba bien y que estaba muy agradecida
por la informacion y la ayuda financiera. Despues regresamos a Mexico.
La verdad es que no lo hubiera podido hacer sin su ayuda.
My name is Lourdes. I'm thirty-four years old, married, and I have
three children. A social worker in the health clinic called the hotline
for the women's fund asking for information and financial help for an
abortion. Maria, a counselor at the hotline, told her that she needed
to speak to me directly to gather information and make the necessary
arrangements. I was a little scared since this was my first time
seeking an abortion and I didn't know about the process. When I called,
Maria explained the process in detail. She explained everything from
the first appointment, told me about how long the procedure takes,
about the surgical instruments used, the anesthesia, the recovery, etc.
I was very surprised and relieved, because I knew someone in Mexico who
had a different experience. I could see that in El Paso, Texas, the
process was different and safer. The lack of transportation in my town
in Mexico is a real problem and it keeps women from going to the
gynecologist; that is why I could not get the pill or any other birth
control method. The day of the appointment my husband and I boarded the
bus at 4:55 AM to make sure we would make it on time. Everything went
as Maria said. Right after the procedure, I contacted the women's
hotline and told Maria I was doing well and I was thankful for all the
information and the financial help. Then we went back to Mexico. The
truth is, I would have not done it without their help.
Lucy
Mi nombre es Silvia y llame a la linea directa porque Lucy, mi sobrina
de 13 anos que vivia en un pueblo remote de Mexico, fue victima de una
violation. Como consecuencia, ella quedo embarazada. Ella se lo
escondio a toda su familia menos a mi porque sabia que yo la apoyaria
en lo que sea que dicidiera. Estaba tan desesperada por terminar el
embarazo causado por una violation que estaba dispuesta a cruzar la
frontera sola sabiendo lo peligroso que eso podia ser. Yo ya vivo en
California asf que pude llamar a la linea directa. Hable con Alma y
ella me explico que en los Estados Unidos el aborto es legal y que en
Mexico es illegal, aunque la gente con influencia politica o economica
a veces logran tener un aborto. Pero tambien me dijo que en Mexico se
permite el aborto en casos de violation, incesto o cuando existen
riesgos a la salud. Alma queria que nosotras le informaramos a las
autoridades para poder obtener el aborto de esa manera. Le comente que
seria dificil lograr que las autoridades mantuvieran la discretion
necesaria para no danar la imagen y la reputation de Lucy. Ademas,
avisar a las autoridades no iba a servir de nada porque el sujeto que
la violo pertenecia a una de las familias "con mucha influencia" en el
pueblo. Nadie le creeria y todo el mundo lo sabria.
Hicimos arreglos para que Lucy cruzara la frontera con alguien del
pueblo; tuve que pagar $2000 dolares y no sobro nada. Dos semanas
despues llame a Alma para deckle que Lucy ya estaba en el pais y que
necesitaba information para obtener un seguro medico que pagara el
aborto. Alma nps dio informacion sobre el Programa de Consentimiento de
Menores a traves de Medi-Cal. Cuando Lucy fue a ver a la trabajadora
social de la oficina de Medi-Cal, ella dijo que la unica
manera de tener acceso al programa era que Lucy • trajera a su
madre. Alma nos explico que esta information era totalmente falsa e
incorrecta. Por el contrario, uno de los requisites del programa es que
los padres desconozcan la existencia del embarazo. Alma se sorprendio
aun mas cuando se entero que la trabajadora social dijo que ese
programa era solamente para americanos. Yo tuve que solicitar permiso
en mi trabajo para acompanar a Lucy a la oficina de Medi-Cal. Tratamos
y aunque el equipo de ACCESS se mantuvo en comunicacion por telefono
con los supervisores de Medi-Cal abogando por los derechos de Lucy, los
servicios fueron negados. Llame a Alma llorando y sintiendome tan
frustrada que no ayudarian a mi sobrina aunque ella era victima de
violation. Alma nos sugirio que llamaramos a una clinica local que ya
habia sido informada de la situation de Lucy y que hicieramos una cita.
ACCESS nos ayudo con el pago del procedimiento. Lamentablemente no pude
acompanar a Lucy porque en mi trabajo me advirtieron que si faltaba por
segunda vez me despedirfan. La unica otra persona disponible era mi
hermana, la mama de Lucy, pero ella no sabia del embarazo de Lucy. A
pesar de que ella ya vivia en California desde hacia un tiempo, Lucy no
queria vivir con su mama y su nuevo esposo. Lucy tuvo que contarle todo
a su mama lo cual fue doloroso para las dos. Pero afortunadamente, mi
hermana comprendio y la apoyo durante todo el procedimiento.
Hoy en dia, Lucy vive con su madre y algunas veces se deprime porque se
le hace dificil acostumbrarse a una vida que cambio tan de repente.
Lucy todavia llama a Alma quien le brinda apoyo y la aconseja. Lucy ya
regreso a la escuela y se siente mejor.
My name is Silvia. I called ACCESS, the women's hotline, because my
13-year-old niece Lucy, who used to live in a remote Mexican county,
was a victim of rape. As a consequence, she became pregnant. She hid it
from the entire family except me, because she knew I was willing to
support her no matter what. She was so desperate to not carry the
pregnancy from a rape, she was even willing to cross the border alone,
knowing how dangerous it can be. I already live in California so I
called the hotline. I talked to Alma and she explained that in the
United States abortion was legal and in Mexico it was illegal, but you
might be able to get one if you came from a family with political or
economic influence. She also said that in rape, incest or health risk
cases an abortion was permitted in Mexico. Alma wanted us to inform the
authorities and get Lucy an abortion that way. I told her that it was
going to be hard to make sure that the authorities would keep it quiet
and that Lucy's image and reputation needed to be kept intact. Besides,
telling the authorities was not going to help, because the man who
raped her was politically influential. No one would believe her and
everyone would know about it.
We made arrangements for Lucy to cross the border with someone from the
town; I had to pay $2000, and there was nothing left over. Two weeks
later I called Alma and informed her that Lucy was already in the
country and she needed health insurance that would cover the abortion
cost. Alma provided us with information about the Minors Consent
Program through Medi-Cal. When Lucy
went to talk with the Medi-Cal social worker, she insisted that the
only way to qualify for the program was by bringing her mother. Alma
told us the information provided by the social worker was absurd and
incorrect. On the contrary, one of the requisites for the program was
that parents don't know about the pregnancy. Alma was even more
surprised to hear that the lady said the program was only for
Americans. I had to take time off at my job to go to Medi-Cal with
Lucy. We tried and even though ACCESS kept on calling Medi-Cal's
supervisors advocating for my niece's rights, the service was denied. I
called Alma, crying, feeling so frustrated that Lucy was not being
helped even though she was a victim of rape. She suggested hurrying up
and making an appointment at the local clinic. They were already aware
of Lucy's situation. ACCESS provided her with financial assistance for
the procedure. Unfortunately, I was not able to go with her because my
job threatened to terminate me if I missed another day of work. The
only other person available was her mom, my sister, but she didn't
raise her and she did not .know about Lucy's pregnancy. Also, she'd
been living in California for a while but Lucy did not want to live
with her and her new husband. Finally Lucy told her mom, which was hard
and painful for both of them. Eventually, my sister understood and
supported her through the entire procedure.
Today Lucy lives with her mom, and from time to time she gets depressed
from having her life changed so drastically. She still calls
Alma, who helps and counsels her. She is already in school here and
feeling much better.
Mariana
Me llamo Mariana y tengo 19 anos de edad. Fui violada en Mexico y quede
embarazada. Mi esposo y yo decidimos ir a los Estados Unidos para pedir
ayuda. Desde que me entere que estaba embrazada supe que el aborto era
la decision correcta. Mi esposo me apoyaba. Los dos sabiamos que yo no
podia tener ese bebe. Nos mudamos para el condado de Mendocino mientras
esperaba por ayuda. Alii compartiamos una casa con otras personas y no
teniamos privacidad para hablar por telefono. Se ma hacia dificil
hablar sobre la experiencia. Fui al hospital a pedir ayuda y ellos me
refirieron al centre de mujeres para que me ayudaran con el aborto.
Cuando llame hable con Miriam, una consejera del centro. Le explique
que necesitaba que me hicieran un aborto porque habia sido violada en
Mexico. Le conte que no sabia a donde ir y no tenia los recursos
economicos. Miriam me dijo que el centro de mujeres podria ayudarme con
la estadia del hotel y el transports de ida y vuelta para mi y un
acompanante. La unica persona que podia acompanarme era mi esposo pero
el ya estaba trabajando y le resultaba muy dificil que le dieran
permiso. Finalmente, le autorizaron el dia pero con la condition de que
trabajara las horas sin recibir pago. El dia del aborto el
procedimiento termino muy tarde y ya no habia transporte publico de
regreso a Mendocino. Una voluntaria del centro de mujeres se ofrecio a
Ilevarnos de regreso. Semanas despues, llame a Miriam y le conte que me
sentia bien y le di las gracias por todo el apoyo y los servicios.
Miriam ofrecio referirme a una agencia donde me ayudarian a superar la
experiencia de la violation. Yo le dije que estaba interesada pero no
en ese momento, tal vez despues. Le pregunte si podia darme information
acerca de la Matricula Consular (identification official expedida por
el consulado Mexicano en California para las personas que no tienen
documentos o se encuentran bajo el proceso migratorio). Un par de
semanas despues, Miriam me dio la information para la matricula
consular y me refirio a la agenda de asalto sexual en Napa. Mi esposo y
yo estamos muy agradecidos con los servicios de apoyo que recibimos del
centre para mujeres. Ahora me siento mucho mejor y estoy recibiendo
terapia.
My name is Mariana and I'm 19 years old. I was raped in Mexico and got
pregnant. My husband and I decided to go to United States for help.
Since I found out I was pregnant I knew having an abortion was the best
decision. My husband supported me. We both knew I could not have that
baby. We moved to Mendocino while waiting for help. There we shared a
house with other people and we had no privacy to talk over the phone.
It was hard for me to talk about my experience. I went to the hospital
to ask for help and they referred me to the Women's Center for abortion
assistance. When I called I talked to Miriam, the counselor. I
explained why I needed help. I told her I didn't know where to go and
had no money. Miriam explained that women's fund could help with the
hotel and travel there and back to Mendocino for me and a companion. I
told her that my husband would accompany me. He was already working and
had a hard time getting time off. He finally got a day, but with the
condition that he would work the hours without pay. The day of the
abortion the procedure ended late in the afternoon and there was no
more public transportation back to Mendocino. A volunteer from the fund
gave us a ride home. A few weeks later I spoke to Miriam to let her
know I was feeling good and was thankful for the support and services.
Miriam offered me a referral to the agency which helps rape victims to
overcome sexual abuse. I told her I was interested, but not right at
that moment, perhaps later on. However, I asked her for information
regarding Consular Registration Card (an official document issued by
the Mexican consulate for people with no citizenship documentation
and/or in the process of acquiring one). A couple of weeks later Miriam
provided me with the information and the referral to the agency for
sexual assault. My husband and I are very grateful for the help we
received from the women's fund. I feel so much better now and I am in
therapy.
Paty
Mi nombre es Paty y me refirieron a la linea directa de mujeres para
asistencia con el aborto. Yo necesitaba ayuda con informacion para
tener un aborto y con la transportation que necesitaria. Tambien
necesitaba que alguien me acompanara de la clinica a mi casa que
quedaba en un condado vecino. Yo soy de Colombia y vine hace poco a New
York. No conozco a nadie que me pueda ayudar. Juanita, la consejera, me
dijo a donde tenia que ir y busco a alguien que me acompanara el dia
del procedimiento. Despues del aborto me comunique con Juanita para
deckle que el Doctor me habia recetado unas medicinas (antibioticos
para prevenir una infeccion), pero que yo no tenia
dinero para comprarlas. Juanita me consiguio las medicinas y me las
trajo a casa. Tambien me ofrecio informacion sobre la clinica de
planificacion familiar. Yo le dije de inmediato que estaba interesada y
le conte que desde que vine a los Estados Unidos no habia recibido
ningun tipo de atencion medica. Era imposible acudir al medico porque
el sueldo que ganaba lavando autos apenas me alcanzaba para enviar
dinero a mi familia en Colombia. Ahora estoy tomando la pildora y voy
al medico regularmente gracias a la consejera del centre para mujeres.
My name is Patty and I was referred to the women's abortion hotline. I
needed help with information to have an abortion and with
transportation. I also needed a companion from the clinic to my house
located in a neighboring county. I am from Colombia and came not long
ago to New York. I don't have anyone who can help me. Juanita, the
counselor, found a place for me to go and found someone who would go
with me the day of the procedure. After the abortion I called the
hotline and I told Juanita that the doctor prescribed some medication
[antibiotics to prevent infection] and that I did not have money to buy
it. Juanita got me the medicine and brought it to my house. She also
gave me information regarding a family planning program. I immediately
told her I was interested and that since I came to the US, I haven't
received any type of medical care. It was impossible for me to go see a
doctor with my car wash job and that I barely made enough money to send
home to my family in Colombia. Now I am taking the pill and go to the
doctor regularly, thanks to Juanita at the abortion fund.
Nikki
Nikki was a fifteen-year-old whose mother, a crack addict, sold all of
Nikki's belonging to pay for drugs. Nikki's home had become extremely
dangerous as her mother's drug habit escalated. With no more belongings
to sell, Nikki watched her mother begin to prostitute herself. As if
her life wasn't difficult enough, Nikki found out she was pregnant. She
believed she was too young to care for a child and wanted to finish
high school so she could "be somebody." With no hope and no money, she
presented herself at a shelter and said she needed a safe place to
live. The shelter helped her get in contact with the Vivian Campbell
Fund in Pittsburgh,, Pennsylvania.
Lynnette
Lynnette was a 14-year-old Delaware girl. She and her eight siblings
were all placed in foster care with relatives or foster families. In
her second trimester, Lynnette revealed to a state Family Service
worker that she had been sexually abused by her father, a drug abuser
who is HIV+. She was feeling suicidal and was hospitalized briefly.
Because of the incest, the abortion should have been covered by
Medicaid, but the only clinic that took Medicaid required parental
consent. The state, which had custody of Lynnette but not guardianship,
spent two weeks trying to track down Lynnette's mother. Eventually,
caseworkers gave up and decided to take her to another clinic which did
not require parental consent - but did not take Medicaid. Because of
the time that elapsed, the Delaware Pro-Choice Medical Fund paid $1000
for Lynnette's late abortion.
Madhu
Madhu went to the doctor because she felt ill, but had never missed a
period and had been taking birth control pills faithfully. Now she was
being told she was four months pregnant, an abortion would cost $1800,
and she had a week to raise the money.
Madhu and her new partner had recently moved to a small town in the
Northwest. They had used all their savings on the security deposit on
their apartment. He managed to get a small bank loan, but altogether
they could raise only $600. She began calling pro-choice organizations
to ask for assistance, starting with her local Planned Parenthood.
Because she was in a state that covered abortions on Medicaid, she was
referred to the state department of social services. They told her she
would have been eligible, but they could no longer serve "aliens." Her
previous marriage to an American had ended, and the divorce had become
final several weeks before. She never expected that as an immigrant and
long-time resident, she would lose all access to a safety net.
Madhu kept trying, and was referred to a series of Washington,
D.C.—based advocacy organizations, each of which said they did
not know of any abortion funding, and referred her to another. She even
called Bristol-Myers, maker of her birth control pills — since
the pills had not only failed her, but masked the normal indications of
pregnancy — but they said she was "one in 100" and they could not
help. Three days and a dozen long-distance calls later, she heard about
an abortion fund back East. That fund contacted ACCESS in San
Francisco, which had experience helping migrant workers. The ACCESS
worker called a feminist women's health clinic on Madhu's behalf, and
negotiated a much-reduced fee and payment plan just in time.
Marsha
One of the reasons I decided to have an abortion was I'm in college. I
want to become a lawyer. I already have three kids, an infant at home.
Having another baby would mean my education would be put off longer,
and I'm only nine credits away from graduation. I could start working
as a paralegal. My husband, it turns out, was having an affair, and he
started to get really abusive; I finally had to get a protection order.
My kids asked me not to
have '' another baby,
because my older son was getting upset^ he had to babysit a lot. I
couldn't afford day care - its's $240 — even to look for another
job.
I ended up on welfare after I had my last child. He was premature; he
has cerebral palsy and is blind in one eye. They told me I could take a
six-week leave and they'd hold my job for me. But when I tried to go
back, the company only had jobs in [suburban towns] that were two,
three hours from my home by public transportation. Having a child with
special medical needs meant that if something went wrong I had to be
able to get home quick.
In the '80s I had an IUD, but then it had to come out and I couldn't
get another one. I tried the pill, but I developed blood clots and the
doctor told me I had to stop. I tried to make my husband use condoms,
but he wouldn't. I was so afraid I'd get pregnant again, and it
happened. I just felt like my life was going downhill... like I was
going to become one of those permanent welfare recipients, never
getting off . and never getting to do those things in life that you
hoped to do. I felt that my life would be ruined; I had to have an
abortion and I had to have the money to do it.
Just as strongly as I fought at age 17 — when my mother tried to
make me get an abortion and I told
her if she made me, I'd run away from home, and I signed myself into a
birth center and had my baby -just as strongly as I fought then to have
my baby, I'll fight now for my right to have an abortion. People have
the right to choose. Pro-lifers put out that people who are pro-choice
are anti-having babies, and that's not what it means. It means we
believe in having a choice and making the decisions about what to do
with our lives: to have children if we want to have them, and not to
have them if we don't feel that we can take care of them and provide
for them.
Stacey
Stacey is a 34-year-old woman with two children. Her husband is trying
to finish college and look after the children while she works three
part-time jobs. As with most part-time jobs, she has no medical
insurance. Stacey and her husband both feel the time is wrong for
another child. They were very upset to find out that not only could
they not afford another child but neither could they afford an
abortion. By looking in the yellow pages, Stacey found an abortion fund
to turn to for financial help.
Tammy
Tammy's doctor discovered that the fetus she was carrying had a severe
abnormality that could result in stillbirth or, at most, make it
impossible for the child to survive more than a few days. Tammy and her
husband decided a therapeutic abortion was the proper choice. However,
they were financially unable to handle the charge for the late
abortion. Wisconsin will not pay for an abortion under any
circumstances regarding the fetus, including disabilities as severe as
brain death. The Women's Medical Fund paid a significant portion of
this very expensive procedure.
Tikea
Tikea was still 12 years old when she was raped on the way to school.
Her mother Sheryl took her to the , family doctor, fearing
AIDS. Sheryl told the doctor that Tikea had menstruated once, and
assumed that the1 tests they ran included one for pregnancy. They
were relieved when the nurse called to say everything
was OK. Their main concern now was helping
Tikea deal with the trauma of the rape.
As time passed, Sheryl noticed Tikea was putting on weight. Despite the
doctor's reassurances over the phone, she took Tikea to a hospital
emergency room, which diagnosed a pregnancy of 19 weeks. Sheryl
was even more shocked to find that the private insurance
she had through her job would not pay for an abortion in any
circumstances except to save Tikea's life. An appeal to their "ethics
committee" by the family physician was turned down. Sheryl needed to
raise $1200 immediately for an abortion in a hospital. She used the
family's entire $800 savings, and borrowed $450, which she paid back
over the following year, from the abortion loan fund.
Jessica
Jessica is on active duty in the military. She decided , on abortion
after the man by whom she became pregnant left her. She was afraid that
trying to raise a child alone would cost her to lose her career.
Jessica's take home pay is low and her benefits are considered to be a
major part of her salary. The health insurance offered by the military
did not cover abortions. Jessica was angry; the constitution that she
fought to defend didn't seem to include her. That seemed especially
ironic to her in a state where Medicaid funds abortions and other
government workers are covered as well.
Barbara
Barbara was a 20-year-old mother of two when she became pregnant again.
She went to her doctor for prenatal care early in the pregnancy, and
was offered a routine test for HIV She found out she was positive, had
her children tested and they both came up positive as well. She worried
about developing AIDS and leaving her children motherless. She also
feared that she might pass on the HIV virus to the fetus, as she had,
unknowingly, to her two young children. Her physician warned that her
immune system might be too weak, such that it would endanger her own
health to carry the pregnancy to term. Barbara was stunned to realize
that Medicaid would pay for delivery and future medical problems but
would not pay for an abortion!
Ericka
Ericka found out about the Chicago Abortion Fund after she called a
local clinic in desperation and begged them to help her. At 16 weeks,
she had already tried methods she'd heard about: two bottles of
tetracycline, a bottle of NyQuil. When neither of these two worked,
Ericka tried to use a coat hanger. Now in the second trimester, she
needed more money than she could ever hope to raise on her $355 a month
public assistance. A 1 9-year-old single parent with two children, she
lived on her own without help from her family. CAP gave her the bulk of
what she needed so that she would not have to use her rent and utility
money for the abortion.
Jo
To bring another child into a home where my husband [a carpenter's
assistant] had lost his job, we weren't even getting compensation... I
hoped to start working at my daughter's school. I thought, I don't want
a baby. I want to make the life for my three kids better.
After a month, I could only raise $30.1 was really scared. My sister
kicked in $50, but I needed $200. The abortion fund gave me the rest.
I'm still on welfare, but I do work three hours a day, now, and I go to
school at night for my teacher's aide certificate. I love my kids with
all my heart, and I knew that my situation did not call for having
another child. I went with that.
Diana
Diana was a 19-year-old honor student at college who was referred by a
classmate who had been helped earlier by the Fund for Choice herself.
Diana had been date-raped by a "friend" a month earlier. She didn't
report the rape to authorities because the man and his girlfriend
threatened her. At this time she was more concerned about contracting a
sexually transmitted disease than being pregnant. She was upset when
she arrived, but became hysterical when her pregnancy test was
positive. It took four of us to calm her down. She couldn't go to her
parents because her dad was a very strict minister, both parents were
pro-life and she said they would probably blame her. She said that
there was no other option for her but an abortion, but she didn't know
where or how to get the money. She didn't want
anyone but her girlfriend to know. The Fund for Choice paid for the
entire procedure. Recently, Diana sent me a Christmas card, along with
a $25 donation. She and the friend who stuck by her are in their senior
year of college and are student teaching.
- family planning clinic worker and volunteer
Sally
I am a caseworker in a family planning clinic in Traverse City in
northern Michigan. Each day, several times a day, our family planning
clinic talks to poor women who are faced with the daunting task of
trying to come up with funds to terminate a pregnancy... I shudder when
I hear myself ask a woman, "Can you pawn anything, can you let your
electric bill slide?" Truly, I don't know what many of these women
would do without WRRAP's assistance.
Sally is 28 years old and the mother of 5 children. She is recently
separated from her husband because of his physically abusive behavior.
She came home from night school to find her ex-husband in her home and
drunk. He raped her, saying that his new girlfriend can't give him
children. She was very shaken up by the rape but unwilling to press
charges. She is afraid that if he finds out she is pregnant with his
child that he will force her to carry to term. Sally qualifies for
Medical Assistance, but the state only allots $100 of Medicaid funding,
and providers in this area will not accept this small amount. At nine
weeks, Sally's fee is $250 - that's with a low-income discount from the
clinic. She has $50. WRRAP's grant of $100 makes it possible for her to
have a first trimester abortion. That may not seem like a lot, but to
her, it is the beginning of taking back her life. She deeply thanks you
and so do I.
Janet
My husband and I are ranchers. I was 45 years old when this happened.
We have five children, and my parents live on our ranch also. We work
hard, but since the multinational companies have taken over so much
agriculture, it's hard to make a living wage. It helps to get Medicaid.
I've had a rough year; I'd been feeling ill for a long time, stopped
getting my period and gained a lot of weight. After many trips to the
doctor — we are 45 minutes from town — I was diagnosed with
Lyme disease.
Last fall, my husband and I were repairing our roof when I fell 16 feet
off a ladder. I felt a "goosh" of water, and seemed like the same
feeling as when my water broke when I'd had my kids. I made an
appointment to see my doctor, and a week later he said I was 17 weeks
pregnant. The ultrasound showed that there was no amniotic fluid left
in the sac, but that the fetus' heart was beating. The doctor said that
it wouldn't survive, and that my medication for Lyme disease was known
to cause birth defects. Because he'd delivered my kids, I trusted him
and asked him to do an abortion. He said that even though he knows how
and is pro-choice, he couldn't because his hospital won't allow them.
He wished me luck, and warned me to get to the hospital fast if I
started to hemorrhage, as I did with my last three pregnancies. The
last one was so bad I almost died. The hospital is an hour and forty
minutes from our house.
Montana Medicaid doesn't pay for abortions, so I tried to get the money
together. By that time I was 19 weeks. I raised half the money, and the
fund in Bozeman gave me the rest and convinced a doctor, in a place
three and a half hours from our home, to do it past his usual limit.
But the night before, I started to bleed and passed out. My husband and
kids were out in the fields calving. My father found me and rushed me
to the hospital. I only know the rest from what my doctor and others
told me. At the hospital, they gave me transfusions but they refused to
empty my uterus, which was the only thing that would stop the
hemorrhaging. The hospital administration wanted to air lift me to Salt
Lake City, where they can treat severely premature babies, even though
mine would never survive at only 19 weeks. My doctor finally convinced
them to give me pitocin to induce labor. Five hours later, I came to
but I was still bleeding full out. My doctor wanted to do a C-section
but I refused; finally I delivered the fetus. It had died and it was
very malformed. It took me months to recuperate at home.
I am angry at what I had to go through. At every step, the life of the
fetus was more important than my own life. I'm angry that my own doctor
wouldn't do the abortion. Why should abortion be separate from any
other medical procedure? I'm angry that the hospital wouldn't let me
have an abortion, even with my risks and medical condition! I'm angry
that even when I'd lost every drop of my own blood, they thought the
fetus' life was more important than mine, even though they all knew it
would die eventually.
I'm angry and I'm lucky to be alive.