Post-Roe Election Day

This is the post I’ve been wanting to write for months. It’s the commentary that’s been running through my mind since the draft opinion of Planned Parenthood v. Casey leaked 6+ months ago and what’s been churning in my stomach since they day I sat in my office reading the news reports of the overturn of Roe on that fateful date in June. I’m writing it on the eve of the midterm elections, hoping and praying that tomorrow’s results won’t make me feel sicker than I’ve felt for the past 6 months (or really the past 6 years). Every election is important, but this one feels intensely personal.

Last Friday marked three years since my hysterectomy, which I technically count as my cancer-free anniversary. And this year has been especially momentous for us. Our dreams of growing our family are finally coming true thanks to a lot of determination, amazing support, and an angelic surrogate who is beyond words. There’s so much I could say about our journey to get here, and I will eventually share our whole story, but for now, I think it’s more important to highlight the fact that reproductive rights are on the ballot tomorrow, and these rights affect everyone. Women’s bodily autonomy is not a given right now and tomorrow is our chance to fight for it.

As we’ve seen the repercussions of this decision play out and women all over the country lose access to the timely reproductive healthcare they need, I can’t help but think about my own story and everything I went through leading up to my diagnosis. I can’t imagine going through everything I did and having to deal with barriers to care like we are seeing post-Roe. It’s horrific, unnecessary, and 100% preventable. I also think about everything I’ve chosen to go through post-diagnosis: three rounds of IVF, genetic testing, and embryo freezing; all of which are currently being questioned by politicians who have clearly done no research on any part of the procedures nor once set foot in a fertility clinic, let alone bothered to pay attention in middle school health class. I won’t get into our IVF journey in this post, but it’s also squarely under attack right now, and something I feel very passionately about.

A couple of points I want to make off the bat: pregnancy is not a health-neutral state; meaning if you are pregnant, there are any number of things that could go wrong or harm you in some way. And I don’t say that to scare anyone, but to be realistic about the risks involved in pregnancy, something that many people today absolutely refuse to admit. Pregnancies end for any number of reasons, wanted or unwanted, and reproductive care is healthcare no matter the reason. Those decisions need to be made between patients and their doctors, and no one else. I just can’t imagine thinking about the political landscape at any point leading up to my diagnosis (thought I’ve thought about it quite often through my IVF journey) – my cancer journey was hard enough as it was without throwing politics into the mix. My bottom line is there should not be a scenario in which your political or religious views impede my reproductive rights or bodily autonomy.

I want to take a step back in my story and just highlight some of the details that I’ve been thinking about the past few months. If you have read my previous posts, you’ll know my story started with me on a medication called Accutane. It’s an acne medication that is very effective, but can cause severe birth defects to an unborn child. When women take it, they have to use two forms of birth control, visit their dermatologist for monthly pregnancy tests, and take a monthly quiz about the medication risks (as far as I know, men on this medication don’t do any of this). Before I knew that I had a tumor in my uterus causing my HCG levels to rise, I missed a period in July and had a positive pregnancy test in August. The only information I had to work from was I was taking a medication that caused severe birth defects and all signs pointed to a pregnancy. And yet all anyone at my OB’s office would say to me was “congratulations!” and “we can get you in for a pre-natal appointment in 10 days”. The amount of sobbing and convincing it took to get anyone to take me seriously enough to get me in for blood work that day would have probably gotten me arrested had I been in a public place. But let me just pause here and say this is situation number 1 of many where Roe being in place was a saving grace for me. My main concern that day was getting answers quickly, not the gestational age of a potential embryo I may have been carrying and whether or not that fit within an ill-defined arbitrary abortion regulation of a state in which I happened to be unfortunate enough to live in.

When I was finally seen for bloodwork and my HCG levels came back elevated, the doctors told us we were likely looking at an early miscarriage or ectopic pregnancy, but they weren’t certain. Mason and I had to have one of the hardest discussions we have ever had, in which we decided if this ended up not being a miscarriage, we would need to move forward with an abortion due to the severe birth defects caused by the Accutane. We were not intending to get pregnant (in fact, we were doing everything we could to prevent pregnancy) and we were not in a position at that time to support a pregnancy or child with severe birth defects, nor did we think it was fair to that child or to Charlotte. It was a horrible conversation to have on top of not knowing what was going on with my body, but it was necessary and I’m so thankful we had that option. I keep thinking about how terrified I would have felt if someone told me at that point that option was illegal or off the table for me.

Because following the “miscarriage” and waiting for it to resolve obviously didn’t work, our next step was an infusion of methotrexate, a chemotherapy agent often given to women who are thought to be having an ectopic pregnancy as it inhibits the production of folic acid in the body, a nutrient needed to sustain pregnancy. This is technically a medically-induced abortion to treat a non-viable pregnancy (ectopics are always outside the uterus and never viable). Methotrexate is also used to treat a variety of other illnesses, including Rheumatoid Arthritis, and some women with this illness report that they are having trouble securing their medications from pharmacies who won’t fill it for them, given it’s other use in treating ectopic pregnancies. I just can’t imagine my doctor telling me they had a treatment that would help my situation, but they weren’t going to be allowed to give it to me because of some law politicians in my state had deemed more important than my health and safety.

Because methotrexate obviously didn’t work, our next step was a D&C. A dilation and curettage. Also technically considered an abortion procedure, though in this case, used to treat a miscarriage. A procedure typically done under anesthesia where they dilate the cervix and scrape the lining of the uterus. My tissue was sent to pathology immediately after surgery because they could tell something was up (scary news to wake up to), but I was oddly comforted by the fact that someone was finally listening to me. I was officially diagnosed when this pathology came back a few weeks later.

I just can’t help but think about how all of this might have played out in today’s world, in a state with abortion bans or restrictions. Since we couldn’t easily date the “pregnancy” by ultrasound (they couldn’t see much – we know now because they were actually looking at my tumor), there would have been no way to prove how far along I was. There was never a heartbeat (because it wasn’t actually a pregnancy), so had any of these bans or restrictions been in play, all of my treatment plans would have been murky at best and would have certainly slowed down my diagnosis. By the time my surgery took place in November, 2019, my tumor had grown well into the muscle of my uterus and was on it’s way to spreading. I didn’t have any time to waste in getting diagnosed and treated. If this cancer had spread outside my uterus, this chemo-resistant cancer would have become a whole different ball game for us. I thank the universe every day that wasn’t the case and I’m living to tell my story.

Tomorrow, I’m going to vote blue so my story can mean something. I’m voting blue so my daughters don’t have to grow up in a world with fewer rights than their grandmothers. And I’m voting blue to keep access to reproductive rights available to any and all who need or want it. I implore you to join me. #RoeRoeRoeYourVote