plannedparenthood:

By Jen Castle, NP, abortion provider at Planned Parenthood of Northern New England

I’m proud to say that I’ve worked as an abortion provider for the past 18 years. In this time, I’ve drawn on both my Catholic past and current Buddhist practices, and their shared belief in the imperative to offer one’s self in service to ease the suffering of others. I know firsthand — as both a provider and a patient — that people seeking abortion care deserve compassion.  

There is no requirement that abortion care must involve suffering, other than what our collective culture demands. Our world is rife with toxic stigma around abortion. So often, patients come to us expecting to be judged and shamed — I’m often saddened at the extent to which they are surprised to be cared for by kind, compassionate, professional staff who are ready to share a joke, a hug, or a tissue, as each situation requires.

In the media, abortion is often portrayed as an option of last resort, of desperation, the work of cold or invisible providers —when for many people, it’s simply the best decision for them. Right now, we have a president and far too many politicians making false and inflammatory claims about abortion and abortion providers purely for political gain. So much of the conversation about abortion in this country is based on misconceptions and lies.

I know how my patients feel: I myself felt shame as a patient. I didn’t find a birth control method that worked well for me until I was 31. I thought that being pregnant when I didn’t want to be was a reflection of my failure as a person, rather than a simple fact of biology.

When I was 26, I came across a newspaper photograph of a woman who was the same age as me and lived a few neighborhoods east. She was a single parent, surrounded by her four very young children. I remember thinking that she looked exhausted and overwhelmed. I was preparing for a big life change — moving away to attend a degree program that would allow me to have a career in health care — and I was acutely aware, staring at that picture, that this shift was possible only because my life circumstances, and the care of others, meant that I had been able to have four abortions by this point in my life, rather than four children. I cut the photo out of the paper, filed it away, and then packed it up and brought it with me over the course of the next several moves and 22 years of my life.

Over that time, I became a mother to two children. The notion that my life might have played out differently, that I might not have ended up parenting these two beautiful, brilliant, and exasperating human beings, is terrifying to me. They are my world. I would do anything for them.

Patients frequently express similar thoughts to me. They want children, or more children, but don’t feel ready for them just yet. Often, they’re struggling to take care of the children they already have, and want to be the best parents possible. Isn’t that what we all want for our children? To those patients, I say, “It sounds like you are an incredibly loving parent.”

I provide abortions, confidently and compassionately, precisely because I know that they have the power and potential to ease the suffering of the person who is pregnant, the person who has come to the decision that being the best parent possible at this point in time means having an abortion.

At a meeting a few years ago, we were asked to share a meaningful representation of our work in abortion care. I dug into my desk drawer to find the photograph of the woman and her children, but what I pulled out instead was an old note from my son, that read, “…Not many other kids can say their mom helps the lives of young women on a regular basis. Since I was a baby, you’ve been a guide, a nurturer, a hero, but most importantly, my mom. So on your birthday, I just wanted to remind you how much you mean to me and how proud I am to be your son.“ I brought this with me instead, because nothing I possess better reflects my gratitude for being able to do this work, and of what a profound gift it was that someone else did the same work for me.

On this National Day of Appreciation for Abortion Providers, I want the people who made my life and my children possible to know the depth of my gratitude for their dedication, generosity, compassion, and determination to provide health care that eases suffering and makes the promise of our best lives possible. They are heroes.