One, two, three. I remember lying in bed and counting. Four, five, six. If I could make it to ten, the pain would usually stop. Seven, eight, nine. It came in waves, feeling like a knife was ripping through my stomach and severing me to my knees. Ten.
Story by Emma Bittner / @emmabittnerr / pronouns: she/her
Illustration by Meredith Cambis / @meredith_design / pronouns: she/her
The first time this happened, I was a senior in high school. I woke up drenched in sweat, begging for it to be a dream. I cried in my mom’s bed like a little girl afraid of a thunderstorm again and threw up from the throbbing pain. An uphill battle began for the rest of my life.
I didn’t know ovarian cysts were common in my family until then.
I didn’t know my mom suffered through this every couple of months or that I had cysts the size of golf balls on my ovaries.
While this condition was incurable, I didn’t know it was treatable with birth control that, three years later, a Supreme Court ruling would take away.
I didn’t know that six men and three women would decide my reproductive health before I could legally order a beer.
The fight for reproductive health has always been an uphill battle, but in 2020 boulders came tumbling down that hill. Amongst the pandemic chaos, abortions were deemed nonessential and banned in 11 states, causing women to travel for days to obtain them. After months of abortion rights changing daily, abortions became legal once again. Those months were dark. Women feared for their own lives and the future of their health.
Shortly after the abortion ban, reproductive health surfaced in the headlines once again —however, this time regarding birth control access and the Supreme Court’s decision. On July 8, the Supreme Court upheld the current administration’s ruling, allowing employers with religious or moral objections to limit a woman’s access to birth control. Ten years prior, the Affordable Care Act was put into place, covering all conventional birth control methods for women.
The swift 7-2 Supreme Court decision took away birth control access from nearly 100,000 women. While coverage of birth control seems like a small hiccup in our daily lives, trying to obtain it without insurance can be expensive and, therefore, makes it unobtainable for many.
While women shouldn’t be ashamed of being on the pill to have sex, because a safe, satisfying sex life is a considerable part of reproductive health, it isn’t the primary use for birth control. Acne, endometriosis, irregular periods, and polycystic ovary syndrome are just a few of the alternative reasons women need access to birth control.
Taking away this access under religious contexts puts women, especially BIPOC (black, indigenous, people of color) women, at a much higher risk and creates a domino effect. Lack of access makes a higher rate of pregnancy and a higher maternal mortality rate. According to the CDC, this birth control mandate disproportionately impacted minority groups. Black, Alaskan Native, and American Indian women are four to five times more likely to experience pregnancy mortality than white women. This lack of access isn’t just a women’s issue – it’s also a race issue.
In late September, the passing of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg shook the nation and the world of reproductive health violently. Without Ginsburg actively trying to protect reproductive rights, many women have lost hope. The newly nominated Supreme Court Justice, Amy Coney Barrett, poses a threat to reproductive health and access to abortions once again.
The worry of overturning Roe v. Wade has been a looming concern this year, but this fear may now become a reality. If abortions become illegal once again, it doesn’t just take away our access. Instead, it takes away access to safe abortions.
The battle is more challenging this year. Almost everything is unknown, and there is no certainty regarding our reproductive rights. Our voices are what matter now. Making our concerns known and sharing our uncensored stories will call for change. We are powerful and won’t back down from what we believe. This horror is far from over, but our fight isn’t up yet.
Ten, nine, eight. Maybe if I close my eyes and count to one, the pain will stop. Seven, six, five. Take a deep breath in and slowly breathe out. Four, three two. Maybe this is a nightmare, and it will all be over soon. One.
Resources:
Young Invincibles’ Reproductive Health Resource Sheet:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YcAjutf2q1alh_g1Y06J91mZMa6XMWOTykaMXDqGtd4/edit?usp=sharing
Petitions: