This week I nearly blew out an ovary at the Museum of Moving Image in Queens. Ben and I had met his friend and their son there to see the Jim Henson exhibit. Their son is obsessed with the Muppets, and so for an hour, I got to watch this adorable little boy run around the museum, delighting in the experience of seeing Kermit and Miss Piggy—and I got to see Ben delight in the experience of seeing all of this through his eyes. At one point, I was talking to Ben’s friend’s wife, and I looked over, and Ben had the little boy on his hip, and they were watching a screen with old clips of The Muppet Show.
Cue ovary blowout.
This trip to the museum happened during an interesting point in my relationship with Ben. We’ve been talking more about next steps in our relationship—marriage, kids, where we’d want to raise them. One of the reasons I love Ben is because of his enthusiasm over children. And I’ve always been enthusiastic about them, too. But lately that enthusiasm has felt tainted.
I’ve written previously about my complicated feelings around motherhood, specifically about my responsibility in bringing a child into this increasingly fucked up world. But lately, especially since the Dobbs decision came down over the summer, those feelings are further complicated by the fact that I don’t want to suffer and potentially die in order to bring a child into the world.
America already ranks horribly when it comes to motherhood mortality. (Those numbers increase when you correct for race, as Black mothers are more likely to die as a result of childbirth, since doctors are less likely to take their health concerns seriously.) Worldwide motherhood mortality has gone down, but in the US, it’s continued to increase. And for every death, there are 75 to 100 more people who experience life-threatening complications during pregnancy and birth.
The fall of Roe has increased the number of people experiencing these life-threatening complications. Writer Jessica Valenti does an excellent job of detailing these stories, and Republican’s fears of them getting out further, in her newsletter (which I 100000% recommend you subscribe to.) Women have been left bleeding for days, risking sceptic wombs, forced to carry dead and dying fetuses. And all of this suffering is directly linked to the Dobbs decision and these abortion bans.
I’m lucky that I live in a deep blue state where my right to an abortion is (for the time being) protected. But if Republicans take both houses in the midterms, they’ve been pretty blatant about the fact that they’d push for a federal abortion ban, which means those horror stories will only continue.
These are the thoughts that enter my mind when I wake up in the middle of the night. It feels taboo to discuss, because the idea of the selfless mother is one that persists, no matter how many moms have gotten on TikTok to talk about how selfish they can sometimes be. But really, am I the one who is being selfish by saying that I don’t want to risk death in order to be a mother? Can’t I turn around and point the finger at the selfish pricks on the Supreme Court for being the selfish ones? Or the members of our government who have dragged their feet in codifying Roe? Or the people who claim “they aren’t political” or that “BOTH parties are screwed up” so they don’t vote in important elections? Aren’t they the selfish ones, too?
But I wish more people like me would talk about this: People who were thrilled about bringing babies into the world with the partners who they adore, but who now find themselves a little gun shy at the prospect of not being able to access the care that their parents did. I don’t think those who are anti-choice consider people like us, and how their decision to outlaw abortion may result in us choosing not to have children.
Ben and I have been grappling with this, attempting to piece together a contingency plan for if abortion is outlawed around the same time that we decide to start trying for children. Do we move to Germany, where he’s a citizen, the second I get pregnant for the first time? Do we figure out other ways of expanding our family? It’s a complicated equation for which we do not have an answer yet. But it scares me, and it makes my head spin, and it makes me just want to curl up in a ball and sleep for a really, really long time. (After I vote, of course.)
And when I’m feeling overly complicated and in need of some comfort, there is one thing that I turn to: Food. Specifically, aglio e olio, or pasta with garlic and oil. It’s the easiest pasta dish in my arsenal, one I started making for myself in college when I was broke, because it only requires a handful of ingredients that are basically always in my pantry. It’s a recipe that comforts, one that I’ve imagined making for my family after a Saturday at the museum. It’s a recipe I’ve wanted to teach my children before I send them off on their own. I really hope I still get the chance to do that one day.
Here’s what’s cooking
Aglio e olio
INGREDIENTS
1 lb noodle pasta (I like bucatini for this, but spaghetti or capellini is also delicious)
1/3 cup of olive oil
1 head of garlic, cloves thinly sliced
1 bunch of parsley, finely chopped
Red pepper flakes, to taste
Juice of half a lemon (optional, but highly recommended)
INSTRUCTIONS
Boil your pasta in salty water according to package instructions, until just al dente. Drain and set aside with a little olive oil mixed into the noodles so they don’t stick.
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat until shimmering. Add in your garlic cloves and gently stir until they begin to brown around the edges. Add in your red pepper flakes, if using, lower the heat to medium-low, and continue to toast the garlic until golden brown.
Turn the heat down to low. Add your pasta to the olive oil and garlic mixture and toss until the pasta is cooked through, about two minutes. Turn off the heat.
Sprinkle your parsley and lemon juice over the pasta and toss well. Serve warm with extra red pepper flakes and a sprinkle of parmesan, if you’re feeling sassy.
Thankfully where I live (Puerto Rico) a possible federal ban on abortion won't overstep our rights (we have a case that precedes Roe & our constitution grants birthing people the right), but it does open the door for and gives uneccesary ideas to the local far-right/conservative movement. Nevertheless, I do have these conversations with my partner based on cost of life, human rights (or the threat to remove/eliminate/not recognize rights), inflation, a possible recession, home ownership, stagnant salaries, climate change, and general lifestyle/interests. We both agree that home is probably not the ideal place we would like to raise our future kid/s, but there are so many what if's in the inbetween, including the possibility of banning abortion, that going through every scenario drains our joy/excitement for a kid. It's understandable that birthing people have a lot more to think about than just "wanting kids" and banning abortion is not the solution.
I admire your braveness to move in with the new partner and plan for the future too early in the relationship