When I was 24, in 1970, I was dating an extraordinary woman. I can still remember the feeling

just before we made love for the first time, how lucky I was.

We’d been together around a year when she got pregnant. There was no thought about

keeping the child. I could cite economics, that I was barely earning a living teaching school and

she was struggling to become an artist. But we didn’t consider it because it was obviously

crazy, we weren’t prepared to be parents, or start on that road when there were so many

others we wanted to travel.

In those days, getting an abortion was convoluted, but accessible for those with the

wherewithal, sort of the underground railroad to a different kind of freedom. For us, it meant

her traveling to Boston area, by herself, to see two psychiatrists, if I remember correctly, who

would certify that she wasn’t -- fit? ready? healthy? -- to have a child. That led to her

procedure, and that was that. She came back, we picked up for a while, and then as was more

common at that age, went our separate ways.

I never had a child of my own. The woman I met and have been with for decades had two

children of her own. We tried for ourselves, to the point of operations and treatments, but

they never took. Through her I have had the enormous pleasure and meanings of raising her

kids and now six grandchildren. But still, every now and then, there is frisson of realization, and

frankly I curse god for it.

Yes, I feel regret from time to time, find myself thinking: What if? What if that child had come

into the world? He/she (?) would be — ye gods — fifty now, would be a step-sibling to my

wife’s children. I find myself what wondering: what kind of biological father would I have made,

given the ups and downs of my life all these years? Thinking about that What IF precedes a

sadness, made more poignant and piercing that without that biological child of my own, my

genes will soon come to a finish on this planet.

I don’t think anyone who’s ever seen pictures of the evolution of a fetus can fail to be moved by

it, the miracle of creation, the growth to fruition. So, it’s certainly reasonable to say that

abortion shouldn’t be taken lightly.

But to this day, I am thankful that we had the opportunity to make our choice, that my partner

wasn’t burdened with raising a child before she wanted to be, that there was an avenue that

respected the liberty of a woman to decide what she wanted to do with her body, her life. To

have not had the choice then – and now for so many not to have it today – that is a real crime,

a crime against freedom, respect, and personhood. To argue that this so very personal decision

should not be decided by those directly affected is to treat pregnant women as serfs and slaves,

demeaning them, fostering a form of sexual feudalism that no person should ever be subjected

to.

Because I’m saddened at the consequences of our actions 50 years ago doesn’t mean we didn’t

have the absolute, inalienable right to make the decisions we did. That’s the essence of a free

society, and the Supreme Court’s decision to repeal Roe has taken away that essence. It will

corrupt everyone associated with it, and undermine the very possibility of a free society.

So thinking back on that so personal decision we made long ago (ultimately her decision), I no

longer feel just the sadness while understanding that it was the right thing for us. I feel anger.

I want to shout: Defy them. Defy those who deny our freedom,. Defy those who make

mockery of the founding principles of the nation. Defy the religious, right-wing minority who

impose their horrific zealotry on women, indeed on the majority of our country, ignoring law

and decency. Defy them, however and wherever possible, with all the zealotry that they have

brought into the arena.

Defy them or lose our democracy and our souls.