Why would someone seek out the opportunity to coddle a mother while she is in the process of intentionally killing her child? What sick perversion is serviced by this experience? Here are a few excerpts from an ‘abortion doula’ describing her experiences…
…I stand by her head as she spreads her legs. She begins to moan, softly and then without control. “You’re doing great,” I tell her, clenching my jaw, smiling still. Through her moans I hear one doctor tell the other that there’s too much blood. They call for a hospital transport and tell her they’re going to do the abortion today, right now. The resident begins to perform the procedure as the attending barks commands. “Pull,” she says, “harder.” The body does not want to let go. The resident will not stop. It strikes me as strangely similar to birth, only the opposite word and a different outcome. Pull. Pull. Pull. What’s called the products of conception bucket is mostly filled with bloody gunk. I make out a doll-size arm, fist curled. It feels like I shouldn’t look, but I can’t turn away. After the abortion, the attending fishes through the bucket to make sure everything is out. The doctors finish but the bleeding doesn’t. They have to cut into Dee’s abdomen to get a clearer picture of what was going on. I watch in awe as they pull back the skin. I’ve never seen a body like this, bright and wide open. Eventually, they have to remove the uterus; there isn’t any other way…
…Before the first-trimester procedures start, the doctor tells the patient to open her legs wide. “Let your legs fall open like a book,” they say. It usually takes two or three rounds of encouragement before their legs are spread enough to begin. One patient, just in her teens, says, “This is so awkward.” After it’s over, the patient is given a pad and transferred to a La-Z-Boy chair with wheels. When the patients stand, I see the blood stains on the white paper, a little or a lot. I step between them and the bed, to block their view of the blood…
…But I can’t take away the sound. Most first-trimester abortions are vacuum aspiration. The machine sounds like a sucking through a straw when you’re at the bottom of the glass. The vacuuming is sometimes painful, but I think patients find the sound harder to bear. LiteFM stations play in the background. Most first-trimester abortions take fewer than four songs. Sitting in bars with my friends on summer nights, I hear the same songs and wonder after the women…
…Honesty is a core principle of being a doula. But I quickly learn that you do whatever you need to and mostly that is to tell the truth, but sometimes you are dishonest. In the beginning, I shadow a more experienced doula as she reassures a patient that the woman in the next room screaming wildly is not here for the same procedure, though, of course, she is…
…I’ve been taught to follow the patient’s lead. If she calls it her baby, then I do too. But with the next patient, just as far along, it’s fetal tissue, it’s the products of conception. One stumbles over her words, says “all the stuff inside,” and that feels right, too…
…“It’s coming,” Princess says, “stuff is coming out.” I yell for the OR coordinator sitting behind the desk, ask her to get a doctor. The fetus comes out easily; they put it in the bucket and shove it near me. It is fully intact, curled on its left side, fists closed, knees bent up. He sleeps just like you, I think. Then, a second thought, an act of distancing: He looks more like an alien than a person…
The act of aborting a human being – cruelly ripping them from the warmth and protection of their mother’s body – is the most inhuman and depraved manifestation of evil our species has ever conjured into reality. And yet many continue to tolerate it, in fact, embrace it.
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”
The Sickest Among Us – The \'Abortion Doula\'
