The overturning of Roe vs Wade last year has created massive fallout, with abortion-rights advocates scrambling to react.
Voters in states like Kansas, Michigan and most recently Ohio have resoundingly supported ballot initiatives to protect abortion rights in their constitutions. Similar initiatives are being pursued in Florida, Arizona and my home state of Missouri. However they all have a troubling commonality: The attempt to reinstate Roe, a framework deemed insufficient by the very reproductive justice leaders now pushing these ballot initiatives.
I understand the results of political “compromise” on abortion all too well.
In 2016, I was in the 2nd trimester of a pregnancy I had deeply hoped for after expensive, physically demanding fertility treatments. But then we learned the new, devastating information that our baby had a fatal fetal condition. Given all of the information we had, and with counsel from an excellent medical team, we made the heartbreaking decision to terminate the pregnancy.
But then we learned we were fast approaching Missouri’s abortion ban, which at the time was 22 weeks. I also had to sign judgmental and biased non-medical consents and wait 72 hours to receive necessary medical care.
The weight of Missouri’s callous disregard for the complications of pregnancy, or my health and safety, felt heavy. I felt judged, stigmatized and disregarded. And this was all under the “protections” of Roe.
After my experience, I felt called to step into abortion-rights advocacy. I have shared my story at all levels of government and I joined local advocacy efforts in an effort to reduce stigma and create better policy.
Missouri abortion-rights amendments face ‘torturous’ process to make it to 2024 ballot
Recently The Moth reshared a storytelling event where I told my whole story. To date, it has been viewed 1.5 million times. So I am confident my story has changed the hearts and minds of a lot of people and I’m grateful that I’ve been able to find some light from what was the darkest experience of my life.
However, my disappointment lies in how progressive advocates, Democrats and citizens often exploit stories like mine for fundraising and awareness but dismiss us when it comes to shaping crucial policies — especially with abortion being more popular than ever.
This hypocrisy reveals a disheartening betrayal of trust and a glaring disconnect between advocacy and genuine empowerment.
Missouri’s reproductive-rights advocates are currently championing ballot language that permits state interference post-arbitrary “viability” limits, which are medically inaccurate, dismiss individual circumstances like my own, and let politicians continue to tamper with our healthcare decisions.
Amid these initiatives, only one version stands as a “clean” solution, genuinely removing state entities from our reproductive rights. Advocates must focus on advancing this version exclusively, or, alternatively, clearly articulate a realistic plan to address the shortcomings of other versions, whether it be TRAP laws that would remain intact or people like me that would be left behind entirely.
Likewise, it’s crucial for those volunteering to collect signatures in support of a pro-abortion ballot initiative to be mindful of the diverse ballot language options — they are not all created equally. They should ensure they understand whether the final wording includes significant elements, such as abortion bans based on viability limits. These viability limits can and will be exploited by anti-abortion politicians.
In Ohio, GOP officials are already floating the unsubstantiated idea that viability starts at 15 weeks immediately after the resounding win for abortion rights.
The political landscape in Missouri, driven by the anti-abortion movement and powerful figures like Secretary of State Jay Ashcroft, gives us every reason to expect subversion of democracy and legal standards. Even when Roe was intact, abortion was practically inaccessible in Missouri. If a constitutional ballot is to be pursued, it must robustly protect the reproductive healthcare choices of Missourians from unreliable and undemocratic politicians.
We all know that when the pro-abortion majority gives a little, the anti-abortion minority takes all.
If Missouri’s stark reality isn’t compelling enough, cast a wider lens to witness the harrowing repercussions of politicians meddling in abortion access across multiple states.
Look to Texas: Kate Cox’s wrenching ordeal forced her to flee her own state, denied the right to terminate her wanted pregnancy after a fatal fetal diagnosis very similar to my own experience. Meanwhile, in Ohio, Brittany Watts faces a felony charge of abusing a corpse following a miscarriage at 22 weeks.
These distressing stories underscore the perilous outcomes when politicians dictate reproductive rights, inflicting anguish, injustice and severe harm upon individuals seeking autonomy over their own bodies.
History, and the present moment, demand a singular path forward — one of expansive protections rooted in science as well as the health, safety and dignity of all Missourians. Crucially, this includes abortion protections that entirely exclude elected officials from healthcare decisions, especially those concerning abortion care.
As someone who experienced firsthand the interference of state politicians in medical access and care, I stand far from alone. Urgency, despondency, and outrage have fueled my advocacy, but the solution does not lie in enshrining broken policies that leave behind those disproportionately impacted by abortion bans.
Missouri’s abortion patients and voters deserve better — a future where reproductive justice is not just a concept, but a lived reality.
