Mother Baltimore: Access
A friend recently pointed out to me that I pick at my nails when I’m anxious. Not sure when I started that habit, but I’ve learned that looking at the length of my nails is a barometer for how I’m doing. If they’re long, which rarely happens, then I’m feeling great. If they’re medium-length, then I’m OK, although I could be better. If they’re short to the point where I’d be embarrassed to even go to the nail salon, then my anxiety is through the roof. Last week, my nails were extremely short.
Initially, I didn’t even notice how short they were. I didn’t care . But as I continued to pick my nails into oblivion, I realized that my mind was racing. My thoughts appeared at a frenetic pace. That’s when I decided to take a break and thoroughly analyze why I felt so anxious— last Monday, a leaked draft opinion revealed the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade and last Sunday was Mother’s Day. Both events made me think about October of 2019 more than I wanted to.
It was the weekend of my 21st birthday. I was a senior in college in Kansas. I reconnected with a familiar face. I had just as much sex with him as he did with me. Weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. My stomach began to churn after seeing both of the pregnancy tests yield a positive result.
The next day, during a break between classes, I inquired about an abortion that I thought would be free. That’s when I learned being on Medicaid meant my procedure would cost around $700-$800 because of the Hyde Amendment. I also learned that the nearest abortion clinic was about 40 minutes away . I suddenly came to the daunting realization that having a right to an abortion didn’t translate to having access to one.
That amount was the bulk of my bank account at the time. But I knew I wasn’t ready to have a baby, so I decided to pay for the abortion with my own money. The guy agreed to eventually pay me half of what I owed (money that I never saw until over a month later), so I thought he’d be there for me. He was not. That was basically the only conversation we had about it, except for when he asked for documentation related to my pregnancy. Loneliness crept in.
I felt community in what was growing inside of me. And in gospel music. And in Mary J. Blige’s seminal sophomore album “My Life.” That was all I had. Years removed from the four walls of the church being my childhood and I found myself yearning to hear the voice of a divine power whose existence I was uncertain about. I needed to feel something. I cured myself via long car rides with that music playing in the background as I caressed my belly ---knowing that what was in there would soon not be. That was my sanctuary.
I went to the Planned Parenthood office alone.
As I approached the parking lot, I was met with pro-life protesters. In the waiting room, I started biting my nails while eavesdropping on conversations from pairs--- a mom to her daughter, a boyfriend to his pregnant girlfriend, a friend to a friend. I hated waiting. I was relieved when a nurse called my name only to find out that I had to wait even longer. About three hours went by before another nurse summoned me for an ultrasound.
I did not want to see the sonogram. I had a medical abortion (a type of abortion that’s completed by using a combination of prescription drugs) in my bathroom. On the toilet. In pain. I flushed it away.
It was gone.
I didn’t tell my family at the time because I was too ashamed. I was young and on the brink of graduating from college. I could not tell them that I’d gotten pregnant by someone I barely knew. That wasn’t the plan. I was embarrassed. I was confused. I was upset with myself.
Nearly three years later, my family knows about the abortion. The guy has apologized for not being as present as I needed him to be, and I’m making progress in therapy. But every day I think about the abortion and how lonely I felt throughout the process.
My main activity on Instagram now is looking at videos of babies, wondering if mine would’ve been as adorable. I often obsess over pregnancy scenes in films and television. I ruminate over what could have been. It’s a pain that I think will never leave me. I often question if I made the right decision. I still don’t know if I did. How would I be as a mom? What would the baby look like? Would it look more like its father? Where would we live?
I also think about what would’ve happened if I’d kept it. If I’d struggled to afford the abortion, I can only imagine how much I’d struggle to raise a child with a person whose full name I didn’t know. But part of me still questions whether I could’ve made it work. I don’t know. Getting an abortion wasn’t readily accessible for me, but I’m glad I had options.
Now, here’s the latest news in southwestern Illinois:
Second Belleville native alleges East St. Louis police officer beat him during arrest
Another person has filed a complaint against an East St. Louis police officer for allegedly beating him and his friend during an incident on March 14. The situation is currently under investigation. BND reporter DeAsia Paige talked to the families involved.
More on East St. Louis Police Department:
State police probe beating complaint against East St. Louis cop, refer questions to FBI
Former Belleville man files complaint alleging East St. Louis police officer beat him
Illinois budget includes money for Washington Park to restore police and fire departments
The state budget for fiscal year 2023, which was signed by Gov. J.B. Pritzker last month, included funds to help Washington Park recover from a fire that displaced its police, fire and public works departments. Last fall, a three-alarm fire broke out at the municipal building that housed the three departments.
More on Washington Park fire:
Mayor: Right now, state money to replace Washington Park building is ‘just on paper’
Burned out of their home, Washington Park firefighters get donation of two fire engines
Tornado victim’s family, survivors criticize Amazon for putting ‘profit over safety’
Esteemed civil rights attorney Ben Crump held a press conference last week with victims of the tornado that collapsed an Edwardsville Amazon warehouse. Six people died from the tornado, which some say could have been prevented. BND reporter Mike Koziatek covered the press conference. Deon January, whose son died while working at the warehouse, filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Amazon on behalf of her 28-year-old son.
“Amazon had plenty, plenty of time to alert everyone and they failed to do that and they need to be held responsible”
More on Edwardsville Amazon warehouse:
Amazon driver describes evening when tornado destroys Illinois warehouse
Amazon considered buying shelters after deadly tornado. What are they required to do?
What to do
This section of Mother Baltimore highlights upcoming events in the metro-east that are relevant to Black communities. If you have tips for events, send them to dsutgrey@bnd.com
The Illinois Black Woodstock Festival
July 3-4 at 8221 State Street in East St. Louis
The second annual Illinois Black Woodstock Festival will feature about 50-100 vendors from Black-owned businesses, live performances, food, games and much more. The free event was established last summer in an effort to attract more people to East St. Louis and promote Black-owned businesses. For more information, contact 618-744-8654 or visit this link
What to watch
‘Rothaniel’
(OK I know I’ve already mentioned this, but in light of me having the urge to watch it again, I’m recommending this again) Jerrod Carmichael is back with his third HBO comedy special, “Rothaniel”. And I honestly have no further words to say about it other than it being a must-watch. OK, I lied. It’s a beautiful piece of art in which Carmichael weaves comedy and storytelling to offer one of the best things I’ve seen in a while. Carmichael, who’s most famous for the former NBC series “The Carmichael Show”, which he co-created, gives viewers a very intimate exploration of what it’s like living at the intersection of being Black, queer and a Christian. OK, I’m done, but, seriously, watch it (if you can). “Rothaniel” is available to watch on HBO Max.
What to read
Mother to Son
In honor of Mother’s Day last week, I figured I would share a snippet of a 1922 poem written by Langston Hughes that features a mom talking to her son about her various struggles. The poem highlights the tenacity and resiliency of mothers :
Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
That’s all she wrote!
Talk to y’all in two weeks!
Did someone forward this newsletter to you? You can sign-up for Mother Baltimore here. If you’d prefer to unsubscribe from this newsletter, you can do so at any time using the “Unsubscribe” link at the bottom of this message.
Want to learn more about the origin of Mother Baltimore? Click here.
This story was originally published May 6, 2022 at 2:08 PM.
