Last May

“Here I sit in a fertility clinic lobby, waiting for yet another blood test, knowing very well what the risks are of living in a highly conservative state and continuing to try to have a successful pregnancy. ”

Last May I found out I was pregnant. This was planned and calculated.

At my 12 week appointment with my OB, I received the results of my NIPT. It came back as low risk and was a boy. A previous ultrasound had come back normal so after a brief Doppler check, my OB was about to end the appointment.

"Can I actually have an ultrasound today? I just want to see.”

"Sure! She said. "Everything has come back normal so far but if you want an ultrasound I'm happy to do that for you.”

She started naming the little body parts, she commented on the strong heartbeat. And then silence.

"I'm noticing something here that I haven't seen before. It's probably nothing, so please don't worry, but as a mom, if I were you, I'd want to get this further checked out just to be sure that everything is still 100% fine." Said my OB.

"I'm sending a referral to maternal fetal medicine.

They have much better equipment and a stronger ultrasound machine. They should get in touch with you soon."

"What did you see that's concerning?" I asked.

She responded, "It looks like there's a little bubble on the Nuchal fold. I've never seen this happen before. It's also a little hard to make out what it is with this ultrasound machine. But again it's probably nothing. I'd just rather send you to MFM to rule anything out”

“I need to call my husband”

“Of course. Take all the time you need. We have you scheduled to continue this conversation with our genetic specialist.”

My husband and son came to the office and we met with the genetic counselor for what felt like hours. Asking questions, looking at research, trying to gather as much information as possible to make an informed decision.

I opted for more tests.

Over the next three weeks I had a handful of appointments and close monitoring. I had a large needle stuck into my stomach to gather cells to test.

It could take four weeks to get the genetic test results. Did I have that long to wait? I looked up the abortion laws in nearby states. The genetic counselor gave me recommendations of clinics in Seattle and Portland.

We looked up hotels and flights and financial aid options.

Idaho enacted the heartbeat ban shortly after the overturn of Roe v Wade.

This was my worst fear coming to life.

I wanted this baby more than anything. But I also didn't want to die.

With every ultrasound, the "bubble" got bigger and bigger. The image of a baby grew less and less.

I will never forget those images.

At 16 weeks, the answer was clear. This baby was not going to make it. And if I did nothing, I might not make it either.

"I don't want to give birth to a dead baby. I don't want to die." I cried to my OB at one appointment.

"I'm so sorry." Was all she could say in return.

I made the calls to a clinic in Seattle. I scheduled a flight. I arranged childcare. I applied for financial aid (out of pocket abortions in second trimester can cost thousands of dollars).

I would have to go into to the clinic alone. I would have to fly after taking a dose of medication to start dilating my cervix.

I asked for one more ultrasound the day before I was scheduled to leave. Just to be sure.

It was a new ultrasound tech who likely had no idea of what I was going through.

This time it was quick. "There's no heartbeat.

I'm so very sorry. I will leave you two here and send the doctor in soon."

I cried. Tears of sadness and grief. Tears of relief. I would not have to make the hardest decision of my life. My body thankfully made it for me.

It took SIX DAYS to find a surgeon locally who could perform the surgery and wait for a room at the hospital for something “elective.”

All of the OBs who were competent in abortions (yes it’s still called this even involuntarily. This is a medical term) were either scared to do them after the ban or had left the state…

Following this experience, my body went through all the postpartum experiences. Mood swings. Depression. Lactation.

My body was confused at what had happened.

I would never wish this experience on anyone. I wish it had never happened to me.

And yet here I sit in a fertility clinic lobby, waiting for yet another blood test, knowing very well what the risks are of living in a highly conservative state and continuing to try to have a successful pregnancy.

It feels foolish to keep trying. I admit that.

I also refuse to let people who know absolutely nothing about me or what this experience is like, deciding how I live my life.

I share this not for pity.

I am not intending to trauma dump.

I am sharing because I want everyone to know that the laws you are voting for are not black and white.

The decisions of people you choose to put into power will impact you in some of your most raw and vulnerable and painful moments that you aren't even aware can happen yet.

You cry for freedom. You say "don't tread on me" all the while stripping your neighbours of their human rights and their ability to choose how they live their own life when it has absolutely nothing to do with you.

These issues are deeply complex.

Remember that whenever you make a decision that can impact another humans wellbeing, you have no idea of their story. You have no idea what it's like to live a day in their shoes.

I am angry. And I share this to encourage you to take action. Whatever that means for you.

This is your moment. Things are not getting better. We have to do something. And we have to do it now.