She's a brick ...

Dear Tony Abbott,

As our proud nation’s health minister, I know it’s difficult for you to understand abortion, especially experiencing as you did the turmoil of an unexpected pregnancy in your own youth.

It must have been terribly hard for you to cope with the diagnosis at such a young age, not to mention the incredible physical and emotional side effects that are part and parcel of procreation. Feeling sick all the time is a real drag, isn’t it? I think for me the worst part about being pregnant was the pulsating hormonal hammer that seemed to beat incessantly at the base of my head, making me feel as if I was being dragged backwards through a compression chamber.

Or perhaps you found the slightly schizophrenic feeling of housing two entities in one body harder to bear? And speaking of bodies, isn’t it amazing how much they seem to change just in those first two months? It’s almost as if it’s being taken over somehow - like it doesn’t belong to you anymore but no one informed you that you were being evicted and now you’re not quite sure where to go but wherever it is you’ll be taking a generous helping of side flab with you. Did you feel that too?

I know that my thoughts raced a lot which seemed to make me more tired than usual. But then, as my body temperature had dropped it WAS nice to be in bed because everywhere outside of it seemed so incredibly, deathly cold.

The important thing is that, despite all of these hardships, YOU didn’t succumb to the convenience of fetal murder. You knew what the morally righteous thing to do was and you dragged your tush through all that nausea, moodiness and general searing depression and you popped one out for your country.

Of course, you then gave it away to someone else to keep before reuniting unexpectedly years later (a PR dream) and then discovering your cheating lady friend had actually duped you all that time and that the baby wasn’t actually yours and you’d gone through nine months of gestation hell FOR NOTHING which was actually okay because for fuck’s sake, the kid works for the radical Marxist lefties at the ABC which is just like, super embarrassing.

But, in these morally destitute times we’re living in, at least you can say you bravely walked on the metaphorical sands of reproduction and threw a lone starfish back into the ocean/suburbs of WA while saying, “This one. I can save this one”.

Yours sincerely,
Audrey Apple

A couple of days ago, I went to hospital and experienced what some people call “exercising reproductive rights” and others (Abbott, Family First, a nation in archaic denial) refer to as “heartless, evil baby murdering”.

Whichever term floats your boat is your business. Personally, I will always be a tad incensed by the latter but that’s my opinion. The most obvious difference between the two is that the first is right and the second is wrong. See, I believe in reproductive freedom and autonomy, which is when people are given the right to determine the circumstances of their own reproduction. Others believe in reproductive control and interference, which is when the government makes laws that are shit and unhelpful.

I’m familiar with the following statements:

• “It was the most difficult decision of my life.”
• “I was very depressed afterwards.”
• “I just know I couldn’t provide the kind of life a child deserves right now.”
• “I wish I hadn’t done it.”

I’m not saying I think any of these are wrong. Having an abortion affects everyone in vastly different ways. But here’s a few things that I felt about mine:

It was the only option for me. Being pregnant was horrific. I don’t recommend it unless you really, really want a baby.
Two days after the fact, I don’t feel remotely depressed about it. It was not a baby. It was a fetus. It had no concept of pain, loss or fear. Not being pregnant anymore is an intense relief. In many ways, it was one of the best things that could have happened to me.

This last one could be seen as problematic. Obviously, it’s macabre for anyone to relate an abortion to a fabulous turn of events. When I say it was one of the best things to happen to me, I mean that it has made me examine my life and what it is I want from it.

I made the (unquestionable) decision to abort the fetus because, quite simply, a child would be a ridiculous thing for me to have right now. I am not ashamed to say that, despite countless bitter criticisms from the pro-life camp, it would be a gross inconvenience and a hindrance.

But I do want to have children in the future. I also want to have a career and a life that is comfortable and stable. I have to make this happen for me and I have to start right now, otherwise the next time I get knocked up, not being able to afford a child will likely outweigh not actually wanting one.

I’ve never apologised for my position on abortion. I have always believed it should be an equal option in reproduction issues and it is the sole right of the pregnant woman to choose. It angers me that the pro-life position seems to rely so heavily on prioritising the rights of the so-called “unborn child” over those of the living, breathing woman in question whose life is already established and who, in ethical terms, surely rates higher in a death match.

Further, in my experience (which has come about through overseeing a huge university weeks long letter writing war, extensive reading, working for a senator during the RU486 debate and general discussion) there have been far too many men weighing in on the subject. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an area in which they shouldn’t DARE to try and dictate the parameters of to women.

As long as women are the ones dealing with what is, for all intents and purposes, a parasite (by which I mean it is biologically dependent upon the host to survive) until the moment of birth, it is they who have the sole right to choose if they want to carry said parasite. I didn’t, and I’m bally grateful I live in a society where I can access an abortion that is both free and safe.

I, Audrey Apple, have become a statistic and entered the realm of teenagers and feminist song writers. And while I doubt very much if I could have a meaningful connection with any person who uses the, shall we say, more emotive term of “killer” to describe a recipient of an abortion, as I have now joined the ranks of the Murderous Swine I can probably safely say that the aversion to contact is mutual.

Some final thoughts

• Why has Channel Ten skulked down the tried and tested route of “Abortion is not an option for our fanbase”? We all know where this leads. Miscarriage. Clap. Clap. Clap. Powers that be, wake up and smell the 21st century and answer me this: Why, in all the time I have watched Neighbours in the last few weeks, has Skye Mangal never once uttered the words abortion; termination; I don't want it; I want to get rid of it; out, damn spot? Instead, we are treated to the vague rubbish of “I'm not ready to be a mother”. Obviously if she did have an abortion, thousands of teenage girls would rush out and get pregnant just so they too could get rid of it. Because that's just the kind of chic activity du jour that uterine evacuation is.
• If RU486 wasn’t still being “trialled”, I might have undergone the procedure in the privacy and comfort of my own home. Thank you again Mr Abbott - FOR NOTHING.
• Having said that, general anaesthetics are fucking rad. They are like an unexpected mid afternoon nap wrapped up in a childhood memory of ice skating and pink cheeks.
• My parents are quite simply the best people on this planet, and I can never understand who deemed me lucky enough to be given to them.
• Similarly, the doctors and nurses at my hospital were brilliant. If you are genuinely seeking an abortion in South Australia and you want a recommendation, please email me privately and I shall pass their name onto you.

Peace out (and respect to all those that fight to defend sexual freedom).