There is one abortion clinic left open in Mississippi. It is called Jackson Women’s Health Organization, and it is painted bright pink, as if to say, “We are here for the ladies, and we’re not going away.”
This clinic is sassy, you guys, and it’s in danger of closing because of a new Mississippi law mandating that all abortionists obtain admitting privileges at a hospital. Nearby hospitals are not keen on giving admitting privileges to abortionists (because, ew), so the fate of Mississippi’s hot pink Love Shack of Death remains unknown.
The people who run and support this clinic are not above using social media to spread their message of peace, love, and abortion. Today I stumbled across their Facebook page and found, amidst multiple shared photos and articles from a site called Rock the Slut Vote (ahem), a link to the clinic’s blog, The Last Abortion Clinic. The title of the post is “I don’t regret helping my daughter get an abortion.”
As you can imagine, the title caught my attention. I started reading a mother’s description of finding out her 15-year-old daughter was pregnant:
In my mind my daughter knew better. She is the homeschooled daughter of the president of the state chapter of a national feminist organization. The first time she ever spoke at the capitol was at a joint Senate and House hearing on teen pregnancy. She was 13 and spoke about the need for comprehensive sex education. She and I along with her sister are clinic escorts. She knows all about birth control, condoms, and Plan B. She has always had knowledge about and access to contraception as well as being encouraged to wait until she is older to have sex.
Wow, and now she’s 15 and pregnant? Where’s my shocked face?
The post goes on:
I had always said if one of my daughters got pregnant as a teen I wouldn’t flip out and judge her like so many parents do. I would love her, respect her, and let her choose how to handle it.
Yes, because so far she’s really awesome at choosing how to handle things. There’s a reason why 15-year-olds are not allowed to drive, drink, vote, join the military, or make lots of other life-changing decisions on their own. That’s why God created parents. But no, you go ahead and let her decide the fate of another human life and her entire future. I’m sure she’s totally up to it.
I took a deep breath put my arm around her and said “everything will be ok”. Then we traveled down the short hall to the counseling room at the clinic we escort at.
But get ready for something that will make your jaw drop:
It’s funny how all the rational things you know about teen sex and pregnancy go out the window in a crisis. The truth is my daughter was using condoms. Guess what sometimes they fail. Especially, when children who aren’t educated in their use like my child is are the ones placing them on their penis.
Let’s unravel this thread of utter, mind-numbing wrongness real quick.
Okay, so first of all, she admits condoms fail. Is she also going to admit that sex-ed failed? That access to birth control and a feminist mother and knowing lots about sex failed? That all of that failed to keep her daughter not pregnant? That in fact abstinence is the only fail-safe way to avoid pregnancy?
On what can she blame this tragic pregnancy? Well, obviously: the condom was put on by someone other than her daughter, who is “educated in their use.” Who says that about her 15-year-old daughter?
Let’s put aside the fact that it is totally likely there was no condom. How can I say such a thing? Well, because every day across the world about a million girls agree to have sex without a condom because the boy doesn’t want to wear one and the girl wants the boy to like her. (Cue that song from Beauty and the Beast that goes, “Tale as old as time…”)
Inevitably, some of those girls get pregnant. And when their feminist mothers – who made sure they got lots of sex ed and access to birth control – ask, “How on earth did this happen?,” they can’t say, “Well, Mom, you taught me everything about sex except how to handle it like an adult woman because I’m not an adult woman.”
Instead they say, “The condom broke.”
But I wasn’t in the room. I don’t know what happened. So let’s assume there was a condom, and it broke. If the silly boy had just let her condom-educated daughter apply the prophylactic, none of this would have happened. You see, there just wasn’t quite enough sex education in this scenario to keep pregnancy from happening. There was almost enough. But the teenage boy didn’t have the requisite amount of quality training in condom application.
You know what this means: we need way more sex education in schools. Condom drills should definitely be required. Our children must be trained and certified Condom Technicians. We need state funding for bananas and cucumbers. Trojan will provide the condoms if you agree to make Trojan Man your official school mascot. I can see it all now.
Anyway, Mom of the Year goes on to describe how her daughter came to her agonizing decision all by herself, after being counseled by Mom on how hard it was for her (Mom of the Year) to be a teen mom, how as a doula who works with teen moms she sees all the hardships they face, how difficult it is to get benefits, and so on and so on. But her daughter decided ON HER OWN. Let’s be clear about that.
The post then covers the difficulty of affording abortion when living in poverty; how Mom obtained the necessary documents to get permission for her daughter; getting funding and religious counseling; how proud she was that her daughter decided to work as an escort the day of her procedure; and a lot more stuff that is basically the reason why the acronym “smh” was invented.
Then she says:
As a mother and woman of color I will continue to strive to make sure no one ever has the right to tell my children or anyone else when, how, and if they procreate.
This is the part where I started to feel more sad than disgusted. Mom of the Year has no idea the abortion industry is preying on people like her and her daughter: single women of color living below the poverty line are the industry’s meal ticket. But in a brilliant twist of ideological marketing, they’ve sold this oppression as liberation to the same community upon which they’re committing genocide.
You kind of have to think, “That’s pretty clever.” It’s the same feeling I got when I read about the flower beds the Nazis planted outside the gas chambers pretending to be showers, and I thought, “Well, you know, nice touch.”
So congratulations, abortion industry. You’ve taken a woman’s grandchild from her, and not only is she not angry or sad, but she’s posting blogs about what an empowering experience it was.
Oh, and so is her teenage daughter. The end of the post includes a contribution from poor Kayla, in which she says:
Did I feel sad? Yes. Do I regret it? No! Because I know that the spirit I named Mariah will go on to a woman who is ready for her.
There’s nothing else to say about this. There is only sadness.