Opinion: It’s time to treat abortions like the routine medical procedure that they are

Getting your wisdom teeth out is riskier than getting an abortion. So why do lawmakers insist on wasting time and money to regulate women’s healthcare?

I was 24 years old, living in Queens, NY, busy with my last year of law school. I couldn’t feel the uninvited cells multiplying inside me, but I knew they were there— my breathing already a little labored, my immune system exhausted. I paid my co-pay for the procedure with money earned as a Teaching Assistant and wished I was home in Arizona with my mom. 

Now more than ever, the word is replaced with euphemisms or whispered through a clenched throat: “Abortion.” 

My abortion was how so many can be: easy, with no regret, and no complications. I was tremendously lucky. I had the winds of privilege (and New York’s legal protections) at my back, guaranteeing my safe access. 

My fingers were pink with cold when I texted my mom that I was entering the O.R. Before she could reply, in less than 15 minutes, I was out. Done. 

Safe and well cared for.  

A doula talked me soothingly through the procedure. I was awake, in an IV-induced “twilight” sedation. I was then locally anesthetized and didn’t feel any pain—only a pressure more akin to a pap smear than anything surgical. That was it. After a few minutes of post-procedure observation, I walked out.

I spent Saturday evening with Gatorade and “Monk” re-runs, Sunday doing homework, and was back in class Monday morning. I felt only relief. 

Abortion debates tend to center on the most tragic narratives, and we forget that personal freedom is argument enough. Women must have the power and right to make their own decisions about when and how to start a family. 

I want children! But I want children when I am ready to give my child my best self, my utmost love, and the fulfilling relationship my mom gave me. 

Ironically, I am the product of my mom’s own accidental pregnancy; she too was given a choice, and, at the moment that pregnancy happened for her, she felt ready and willing to become a parent. She had that choice, as should all women. 

My abortion story is simple—almost not worth sharing—but I feel compelled to share it to pierce the veil of horrors and falsehoods that radicals have drawn over the very word “abortion.” Ninety-five percent of people who have abortions in the US don’t regret their decision, myself included. 

Whatever the circumstances of someone’s choice, radical restrictions shouldn’t be the source of difficulty or danger in abortion care. Arizonans deserve bodily autonomy and the freedom to make the best choices for themselves.  

Today, the law treats abortion differently than it does any other medical procedure. Legislatures don’t lavish time and tax dollars on regulating the timing, medication, or decision-making in wisdom teeth extractions (a procedure riskier than abortion) – because regulations about safety, consent, and best practices already exist in medicine. This regulatory framework provides sufficient support for patients and providers in medical decisions far more complex than abortion.

I keep sharing my story not just to reveal abortion’s potential to be simple, but because I’m privileged. My abortion allowed me to become a lawyer (and represent other young abortion-seekers in Arizona). 

I’m also an adult, cisgender, white woman, with the benefits of familial support and resources. Society recognizes me and, to an albeit faltering degree, my humanity—and even I can’t take abortion access for granted. Bans can really touch all of us.

This is why I will be voting YES on the Arizona Abortion Access amendment in November. Arizonans should have the same uncomplicated access to abortion that I had.