Twenty-four years ago, I walked into an abortion clinic. While I could describe all of the gruesome details of my abortion procedure (I’m not going to), I don’t know that I could describe a single detail of the clinic itself. I remember a seemingly dark waiting room with some low, soft lighting, but no specifics of the place. I can’t describe the chairs. I can’t recall any artwork on the walls. I can’t recount the facial features of anyone else in the clinic besides myself and my parents who were with me. I can’t tell you where the entrance was located, or how we entered the clinic in the first place, so I certainly couldn’t point you to where the emergency exit door was located in the clinic.
But that is the reason you are reading this article. You have a desire to be able to point people to the exit door of an abortion decision, perhaps a deep longing to do so, because you or someone you love was once involved in an abortion ...Read full article
