Protecting abortion access for her, especially as conservatives try to push the definition of "life" earlier and earlier, feels just as immediately personal as fighting for my own bodily autonomy.
I’ve always been pro-choice. It’s fundamental to my worldview as a feminist: Every person should have the unfettered ability to control when, how, and with whom they reproduce, end of story. My reproductive rights catchphrase of choice is not “safe, legal, and rare;” it’s “free abortions on demand.”
But when I married my genderqueer partner (who, like me, has a uterus), I figured the part of my life where abortion access was even theoretically a personal concern had ended. Abortion access, while still a huge political priority and something I believe in deeply, took a backseat to other issues that had more impact on my everyday life.
Then my partner had a baby—and protecting abortion access for her, especially as conservatives continuously try to redefine when life begins, feels just as immediately personal as fighting for my own bodily autonomy.
My partner’s desperately wanted pregnancy, the result of two...