Monday, April 22, 2013

Thoughts from a feminist misfit


         I am a Christian, pro-life feminist. Concerning the charged topic of abortion, I don't expect everyone to think or believe the same way I do. I disagree with the prevailing feminist assertion that "any abortion is a legitimate abortion because any choice a woman makes concerning her own body is a legitimate one." But I realize I'm an anomalous "conservative feminist" and try to keep my mind open to understand where others are coming from when more liberal feminism conflicts with my conservatism.

          So recently a post from a feminist blog about abortion led me down a comment thread that... surprised me. The topic was de-stigmatizing open discussion of one's abortion(s) based on the statistic that 1 in 3 American women will have an abortion in their reproductive lifetime. The post observed that some women regret it and others don't, but regardless of your stance on the morality of abortion, as an inherently invasive procedure that can have lasting physical and emotional repercussions, women should have an outlet to discuss their experiences in a therapeutic way without all the shame and vitriol surrounding the topic currently.

          As a feminist, I can agree with that sentiment. It has nothing to do with putting my stamp of approval on abortion, but everything to do with letting those who need to heal, heal. In a purely feminist sense, women who have an abortion face all kinds of societal flack while it's rare that such judgment is hurled toward the men involved. But especially in a Christian sense, I know there are those who feel beyond the fellowship of others because of such an experience that feels off-limits to discuss, even in terms of regret.

          So I read the comments and took them with a grain of salt.  I thought I knew what to expect, but then came the curve ball comments that surprised me. Not because there were so many women describing their own experiences with abortion (though that didn't make my day), but because of one of the ways that a several women framed it.

          First, at least three women described their situations as terminating a pregnancy earlier, but now being married with one or more children. One woman's sentiment was that she is open with her children about her past abortion, because that way they can know that she really wanted them and loves them and planned them intentionally. She wrote:
Yes, I have talked openly about my abortion - and about what a positive experience it was. I also like to make the point that my children will always know that they weren't an "accident" although they weren't planned. I chose to continue my pregnancies because I wanted them.

         
          Others, evidently, agreed with this line of thought, giving it 33 "thumbs up." Another mother wrote that she and her husband almost decided to have an abortion, but didn't-- and later provided this story to her daughter as a means of showing the daughter how giving her life was a conscious choice, even though other options were considered. It was meant as a testament to how much the daughter was loved and wanted. Other readers also seemed to appreciate this woman's thoughts.

Only one other person had a similar reaction to my own:
Oh dear God. "Thanks for not killing me, Mom!" You're going to hear those words and get the warm and fuzzies?
...which got got zero thumbs up.

          Though I consider myself part of the pro-life/pro-child camp, I'm not going to sling mud at anyone who's made a heart-rending choice like abortion. It's not my place. That said, I was thinking the same thing as the unpopular reader directly above-- it sounds off to want your current kids to feel *extra* loved based on the fact that you didn't abort them. So the children you do birth will be buoyed up knowing that there were other embryos/fetuses that didn't make the cut? Erm, no. I felt icky reading that.

          It's one thing to desire a society in which women who have had an abortion can discuss their difficult and painful experiences without a host of people lining up to judge and condemn them. That's entirely different from desiring a society in which abortion should be considered so common that we celebrate children who are chosen (and expect them to celebrate, too), because it reflects the ultimate empowerment of women as keepers of their own bodies and lives. That's a philosophical approach to "progressive thinking," conscientious child-bearing, and womanhood that disturbs me.

And the fact that there were so many virtual head nods and only one other incredulous voice... Evidently I'm a feminist misfit.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Lost in Translation: My Chocolates

Originally posted: Tuesday, May 10, 2011 at 7:51pm

Ben Preston and I just had some fun trying to guess what was in the box of German chocolates we were eating (we ate the chocolates, not the box). Anyway, the cheat sheet that most boxes of chocolate comes with--you know, to tell you what's hidden in each chocolatey surprise--is written in German. Very authentic. So we headed to the all-knowing fount of internet wisdom: Google. After translation, here are some of the things we found out about the chocolates we ate:

Marc de Champagne Truffles: chocolate-wraps from wife
Gianduja: delicate melting Gianduja with typical nutty-note
Ek Chuah: tender roasted cacao nibs in fine bitter-nut-nougat cream-chocolate-in alpine milk.
Pistachio-Marzipan: aromatic pistachio-marzipan flavored with cherry-water in the dark

After being thus informed, we're still trying to figure out whether we're okay with eating "nibs" or chocolate-wraps from someone's wife.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Battle of the Vans

Parents are obviously dorky. But not me. Not yet, right? Riiiiiight.

Here's the meat of it: I think dorkiness really only takes root when you stop taking, "But that won't look very cool..." into consideration. And looking back, that probably happened the first time someone pointed out that I had dried baby spit-up on my shoulder and my thought was, "Well of course it's dry. That's from yesterday."

But it might be happening in a more consistent way soon. With Baby Boy II on the way, we've been looking at mini-vanz (the early 2000s taught me to make something seem cooler by subbing "z" for "s"). And the thing is, now I'm all excited about it.

Our search for a larger car didn't devolve into the search for the right van until recently. First, I can confidently say that I have crawled through and test driven darn near every car on the market that has a 3rd row. I had various love affairs with small SUVs and a few crossovers, but I'll be danged if the stupid mini vans haven't converted me. The manufacturers must know that no one will want them, so they make 'em extra comfy and add things that you don't need, but are convenient. Prime example: auto sliding rear doors. It's like you just give the handle a little tug and the van goes, "No, no-- Allow me...*shooooooop*" and the door slides open.

And looking at mini-vans has somehow warped my sense of how many children I will have, and how quickly. We will have two kids in car seats in the near future, but I'm in there counting all the LATCH adapters (LATCH is the new system that secures children's car seats to metal brackets in the vehicle's back seats). When you start making reproductive calculations based on a car, the manufacturer has won.

Me-in-the-moment: "Hmmm. There are only 4 adapters for car seats in this van. The other van had 5. I wish this one had 5..."

Also, WHAT?! Since when am I a person who uses car seat adapters as an evaluation tool at all? Since now, I guess. Because there are several related criteria I've created for must-haves in a vehicle:
  - Must be able to get an infant carrier in and out without breaking my back.
  - Must be room for me to sit in the back with a toddler and newborn in their car seats.
  - Must have a rear back-up camera so I don't accidentally back into the neighbors' mailboxes, or my own offspring, negating the need for a van at all.