How Planned Parenthood Saved Me

DAHLINGS -

I do not dwell in the past, but the battles over the reproductive rights of women compell me to reveal a few pertinent facts. Planned Parenthood was the only resource when I was a young woman--a young, upper-middle class woman with a good education and family background--that helped women of every class and nationality, in confidence.

Today Planned Parenthood is so often presented (not always transparently) as a program that is targeted at minorities and encourages promiscuity.

THAT IS SO IDIOTIC THAT IT DEFIES BELIEF!

Ahem.

It is not a matter of pro-life/pro-choice, it is a matter of WOMAN CONTROLLING THEIR REPRODUCTIVE DESTINIES RATHER THAN THEIR REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEMS CONTROLLING THEM.

What, in God's name, is so hard to understand about that? Oh, pardonnez moi, 95% of the politicians voting to cut funding are male. It's not going to have an impact on their day to day lives. ONLY ALL OF THE WOMEN IN THEIR CONSTITUENCY!!!

I am not used to being outraged, dear readers, but this is simply too much to bear.

My story, in brief. When I was a young woman, I was extremely attractive to the opposite sex. (Thank goodness some things never change.) As my dear darling Mama had taught me, I was religious about birth control. I never, ever had unprotected sex.

At 21, I missed several periods. I was panicked. I couldn't tell anyone. I was afraid to tell my ob/gyn. Partly because I was 21 and things like this were not supposed to happen to me. Pregnancy happened to careless, low-class women. Never to me.

The only option was to go to the Planned Parenthood clinic in New York City, although I lived just outside the city at the time. I was examined, and the doctor told me the most beautiful words in the world:

"You;re not pregnant."

The burden fell off my shoulders, and I resumed my life, both practical and romantic. Again, I was religious about birth control. Perhaps my taste in partners was occasionally lacking, but not my protection of myself.

It happened again. This time with all of the symptoms that went along with being enciente. I was still young, unmarried, with absolutely no desire for children. What could have gone wrong? I was so careful!

Again, I sought out Planned Parenthood. Again, it was a false alarm.

Faithful readers, if an abortion had been called for either time, I would have had one in a heartbeat.

I was far too young, far too inexperienced, with no interest in having a child. I would have been a terrible mother. Je ne regrette rien.

It happened once again, in the weeks before my marriage. We knew we couldn't afford to have a baby. My fiance was in school. Abortion was our only option. We were devastated, but it would have been the only feasible choice. Again, Planned Parenthood. Again, a false alarm.

Cut to years later: I researched a novel (yes, your faithful correspondent has some skeletons in her past, including some unpublished novels) about a young woman whose father is an abortionist, circa 1916. The lack of women's choices in those days, both in love and in work, fascinated me. (Also I adored the clothes, a major component in writing an historical novel. At least for moi.)

For research, I went to the Planned Parenthood main office and archives. These were in the days before the loonies started destroying the material--although it had just started. Over the weeks I read dozens of articles, personal stories, medical journals, etc.

All described the horror of life before accessible birth control. Back alley abortions, suicide, women chained in unhappy marriages, women literally unable to STOP having children whether they wanted to or not. Millions of unwanted children raised by miserable or cold, uncaring mothers. Fathers trapped in jobs because they had so many mouths to feed.

"Down With The Abortion Clause"
Kathe Kollwitz,1924



THERE WAS NO CHOICE. AT ALL. UNLESS YOU WANTED TO RISK DEATH.





Or join a convent, but that seems a tad extreme, don't you think?





Some members of the government dream of going back to that happy time. ???





There is more to say upon the topic, but I shall save it for another entry. Dear readers, do not let the government slash Planned Parenthood funding. It does not remove the consequences of sex and leave the women free and clear. It prevents more unwanted children coming into the world and women without the money or too frightened to get the help they need.





Ciao,


Elisa & Fletcher

How Planned Parenthood Saved Me

DAHLINGS -

I do not dwell in the past, but the battles over the reproductive rights of women compell me to reveal a few pertinent facts. Planned Parenthood was the only resource when I was a young woman--a young, upper-middle class woman with a good education and family background--that helped women of every class and nationality, in confidence.

Today Planned Parenthood is so often presented (not always transparently) as a program that is targeted at minorities and encourages promiscuity.

THAT IS SO IDIOTIC THAT IT DEFIES BELIEF!

Ahem.

It is not a matter of pro-life/pro-choice, it is a matter of WOMAN CONTROLLING THEIR REPRODUCTIVE DESTINIES RATHER THAN THEIR REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEMS CONTROLLING THEM.

What, in God's name, is so hard to understand about that? Oh, pardonnez moi, 95% of the politicians voting to cut funding are male. It's not going to have an impact on their day to day lives. ONLY ALL OF THE WOMEN IN THEIR CONSTITUENCY!!!

As the Reverend Debra Haffner writes: "Access to maternal health care, contraception and family planning services can and should be available to all women, regardless of nationality, geography, economic status or other factors. "
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rev-debra-haffner/celebrate-mothers-locally_b_858048.html

I am not used to being outraged, dear readers, but this is simply too much to bear.

My story, in brief. When I was a young woman, I was extremely attractive to the opposite sex. (Thank goodness some things never change.) As my dear darling Mama had taught me, I was religious about birth control. I never, ever had unprotected sex.

At 21, I missed several periods. I was panicked. I couldn't tell anyone. I was afraid to tell my ob/gyn. Partly because I was 21 and things like this were not supposed to happen to me. Pregnancy happened to careless, low-class women. Never to me.

The only option was to go to the Planned Parenthood clinic in New York City, although I lived just outside the city at the time. I was examined, and the doctor told me the most beautiful words in the world:

"You;re not pregnant."

The burden fell off my shoulders, and I resumed my life, both practical and romantic. Again, I was religious about birth control. Perhaps my taste in partners was occasionally lacking, but not my protection of myself.

It happened again. This time with all of the symptoms that went along with being enciente. I was still young, unmarried, with absolutely no desire for children. What could have gone wrong? I was so careful!

Again, I sought out Planned Parenthood. Again, it was a false alarm.

Faithful readers, if an abortion had been called for either time, I would have had one in a heartbeat.

I was far too young, far too inexperienced, with no interest in having a child. I would have been a terrible mother. Je ne regrette rien.

It happened once again, in the weeks before my marriage. We knew we couldn't afford to have a baby. My fiance was in school. Abortion was our only option. We were devastated, but it would have been the only feasible choice. Again, Planned Parenthood. Again, a false alarm.

Years later I researched a novel (yes, your faithful correspondent has some skeletons in her past, including some unpublished novels) about a young woman whose father is an abortionist, circa 1916. The lack of women's choices in those days, both in love and in work, fascinated me. (Also I adored the clothes, a major component in writing an historical novel. At least for moi.)

For research, I went to the Planned Parenthood main office and archives. These were in the days before the loonies started destroying the material--although it had just started. Over the weeks I read dozens of articles, personal stories, medical journals, etc.

All described the horror of life before accessible birth control. Back alley abortions, suicide, women chained in unhappy marriages, women literally unable to STOP having children whether they wanted to or not. Millions of unwanted children raised by miserable or cold, uncaring mothers. Fathers trapped in jobs because they had so many mouths to feed.

"Down With The Abortion Clause"
Kathe Kollwitz,1924

THERE WAS NO CHOICE. AT ALL. UNLESS YOU WANTED TO RISK DEATH.

Or join a convent, but that seems a tad extreme, don't you think?

Some members of the government dream of going back to that happy time.

???

There is more to say upon the topic, but I shall save it for another entry. Dear readers, do not let the government slash Planned Parenthood funding. They help prevent more unwanted children coming into the world and women without the money or too frightened to get the help they need.
Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher

P.S. I still use birth control religiously. And recommend that my readers do the same. Planned Parenthood is an excellent resource.

Project Runway Pregnancy Chic: Malvin Lays An Egg

DAHLINGS –

Finally, Project Runway has one of their few real-life challenges! And as always, when confronted with real life and a real woman’s body, most of the designers are utterly flummoxed.

Actress/model Rebecca Romjin (Ugly Betty), heavily pregnant, is the inspiration for the challenge: Pregnancy Chic. Rebecca and Heidi pretend to like each other. But one can feel the evil model vibes shooting between them despite their faux camaraderie. The designers are specifically told to design a form-fitting outfit for Ms. Romjin. Who knew her last name was pronounced like the lettuce? Not moi.

When they go into the workroom, each designer is given a pregnancy pillow to tie to their mannequins. Gordana, who has actually been pregnant, has to give the others instructions on where the pillows go. Straight, personality-challenged Logan remarks, “Pregnant woman—that’s really not my deal.” Good thing he has not reproduced.

Basically, the challenge turns most of the designers into complete drooling idiots, which is why this episode is a lot of fun to watch. I only wish the show spent more time in the workroom! Perhaps it is because there are so many designers still designing they simply don’t have the camera time. But I want to get to know Qristyl and Nicolas better. Nicolas seems quite droll. Someone it would be fun to have a cocktail with.

Malvin, who feels his designs are “ineffable,” whatever that means, decides to go with a highly-conceptual garment symbolizing a mother hen and her egg. And yes, it is truly as ghastly as that sounds. Tim managed to keep from vomiting on camera when he first saw it in the workroom. There was that rough linen fabric, the egg-sling-thing, feathers here and there: thank GOD Malvin was talked out of jodphurs!

It's Fetus-In-A-Bag! With A Side Flap For Your Laptop!

I’m certain Michael Kors also said, “Pregnant woman—that’s really not my deal.”

He was replaced by designer Monique Lhuillier. Along with Nina, Heidi and Rebecca, the the panel was pure estrogen. Heidi warned the designers that the entire panel had been pregnant. Whether she meant that they had particular expertise or that their hormones were raging that day, one doesn't really know.

Evidently most of the designers had never seen a pregnant woman. For instance, it did not occur to them to pad the anorexic models’ breasts to match the enormous stomachs sailing before them, like prows on a badly made ship. However, some did markedly better than others.

Gordana drew on her experience for this sexy navy top and pants.


Shirin went for the gold by creating an amazing draped and tucked burgundy dress, with a stunningly lined coat. She was the clear winner. This photo does not do her outfit justice.

Althea’s dress was very pretty and flattering, but struck your faithful correspondent as somewhat bland. We’ve seen it before. And a pregnant woman's breasts--almost any woman's breasts--would never stay in those cups without several rolls of body tape.

On the losing side, R’amon created what another designer called “a bowling-ball bag.” It was meant to be slimming, but instead it proclaimed for several city blocks, “I’m wearing a HUGE pregnancy pillow!" And the construction...er, one could call it construction...

Mitchell created an atrocious, too-tight, badly made shorts and sweater set, and yet he was not auf’ed. This is something your faithful correspondent does not understand. Ordinarily, poor dressmaking is on the bottom rung of the Project Runway critique, and Mitchell has now sent two hideous, poorly constructed messes down the runway. We were praying that he would get Heidi’s stiletto boot.

However, he got let off with a stern warning from Heidi: "Up your game or I will rip out your jugular with my perfect white teeth, scum."

Malvin got auf’ed. Not to say that his outfit had any redeeming qualities; in fact, it looked like an alien baby was growing in that fetus sling. But I had thought his hair, misspelled name and general bizarreness would keep him on the program.

However, as one of my viewing companions pointed out, “Clinically depressed white boy trumps no-affect Asian.” And yes, Malvin was preternaturally calm. Even during his exit interview, he seemed to be gently tranquilized. He muttered that his designs were "too conceptual for America."

I must get the name of his doctor.

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog