Without Roe v. Wade, We Wouldn’t Have Our Daughter

Our daughter Marley died on a Friday morning when I was seven months pregnant. That afternoon, our doctor’s office called saying they were holding a space for me at labor and delivery so I could be induced that night. I was taken aback. In the six weeks we knew the pregnancy was in jeopardy, no one had ever mentioned that I might have to “give birth” to a dead baby. The very phrase itself is paradoxical, but there I was, being told to pack my things and head to L&D. That wasn’t my only option, but the doctor’s office didn’t share this with me because they were affiliated with a Catholic hospital. 

Because of the laws in our state, I was eligible to have a surgical procedure to remove the pregnancy: an abortion. An abortion is one way babies that die are removed from the pregnant person’s body. Another option is induced labor. So my options were:

• Go to labor and delivery, where happy and pregnant mamas and papas would surround me, be painfully induced, and wait the 16-96 hours for my dead daughter to be delivered vaginally and then endure a 6-week recovery.
• Or schedule an outpatient procedure at a different hospital where I would be put to sleep for an hour while the pregnancy was removed, and recovery would be just a few days?

What would you choose?   

We never thought we would face this decision again, but there we were on December 21, 2020, having to choose between labor and delivery or a surgical procedure. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a lot of time to decide. This pregnancy was causing more complications, and the longer I “remained pregnant,” the greater the risk to my life. A friend who had been induced experienced four grueling and painful days of labor to deliver her dead son. I knew there was a strong possibility that I could spend Christmas in the hospital delivering my two dead children while my life was increasingly at risk. But I had a choice.

But what if I didn’t? What if I had been forced to go through labor – one of the most painful physical experiences – to deliver our three dead children. Would I have chosen to get pregnant again, knowing there was a greater than 50% chance that I would have to deliver another dead baby? Would you?

I would not have gotten pregnant again without the choice in how my previous pregnancies ended. No effin’ way. This beautiful child that we love – and maybe you love her too– would not be here without Roe v. Wade.

I don’t like the terms pro-life and pro-choice. The very nature of those two terms representing opposing thoughts depicts the pro-choice group as “anti-life.” So I prefer the terms anti-choice and pro-choice because really, that’s what it is. I’ve always been pro-choice, even before those terms touched my life, and I assure you, like most women, I never thought it would. 

So now I grieve – again. I grieve for my daughter, who won’t have the same choices I did. I grieve for everyone robbed of their right to choose what happens to their bodies. I grieve for the families like mine, knowing that another pregnancy comes with many risks and now even fewer options. Will those families choose to have another child now? Will I? 

I share this story because if you are reading this, you probably love me, Nick, our daughter, or some combination thereof. And you know that our road to a living child has been anything but easy. But you may not know that the protections afforded by Roe v. Wade allowed us to continue our journey – ultimately resulting in our beautiful daughter. So if anyone tries to tell you that Roe v. Wade is about “saving babies” or “unwanted pregnancies,” it’s not – it’s about so much more.