The dangers of spotlighting the ‘perfect’ abortion patient

Last week, coinciding with the anniversary of Roe v Wade, Vice President Kamala Harris embarked on a nationwide “Reproductive Freedoms” tour. The vice president intends to highlight “extreme attacks” on reproductive rights and harms triggered by anti-abortion laws “while sharing stories of those who have been impacted.” 

There is no shortage of devastating stories to highlight. 

The nation watched as Kate Cox, a mother who faced the news that her wanted pregnancy was incompatible with life, was forced to flee her home state of Texas to obtain safe abortion care. 

The nation watches while pregnant women are denied needed abortion care, even when their health and lives are at risk.  

The nation watches as states implement complete abortion bans. 

The nation watches as states prosecute women for miscarriages. 

The nation watches as federal courts conclude that hospitals aren’t required to provide abortion care in the case of medical emergencies. 

It is critical, and it is strategic, that these stories of extremism are told. They lay bare the post-Dobbs “Handmaid’s Tale” reality we are living in and expose the right’s intent to erode all reproductive freedoms, no matter the cost. And, make no mistake, these stories will bring voters to the polls in November.  

But it is equally critical that we not fall into the trap of telling only those stories. 

I have been in the fight for reproductive freedom for 25 years. I’ve done clinic defense. I’ve worked with abortion providers. I’ve litigated, I’ve lobbied, I’ve taught, I’ve researched, I’ve written, I’ve given Ted Talks.   

But my most formative experience was working on a national abortion hotline in the late 90s. The hotline staff took calls from across the country and provided information about and referrals to abortion care and funding. 

But most of all? We listened to stories. 

I spoke with dozens of women during that time. I heard the extreme stories of health emergencies, sexual violence and fetal abnormalities. I also heard stories of contraceptive failure and of not using contraception. 

I listened to pregnant 16-year-olds who didn’t think they could get pregnant, who were afraid of disappointing their parents or who were terrified that they would be kicked out of their homes if their parents discovered their pregnancy. 

I listened to college students, law students and new professionals worry aloud that everything they had worked for would be in jeopardy.

I listened to women explain their precarious financial realities and lack of support systems. I listened to stories of mental health challenges. 

I listened to women who were married and women who were trying to leave marriages. I listened to women who chose to continue their pregnancies. 

I listened to women who chose adoption. 

I listened to women who were mothers, women who never wanted to be mothers and women who wanted to be mothers in the future.  

And I listened to women say “I. Just. Can’t.” 

Unfortunately, all too often only the most extreme stories with “good” reasons for abortion — the horrific cases of sexual violence, life endangerment or fetal abnormalities — enter public discourse to highlight the “perfect patient” whose story is easiest to sympathize with. All too often that patient is white, cis-gender and appears to be middle class. 

We must reject the moral binary that intimates that there are women whose reasons for abortion make them deserving of compassionate abortion care and those who do not.   

Let me be clear. The lawyers and organizations challenging the extreme laws — and the people willing to tell their stories publicly — are warriors, and they are brave. They are speaking out because they must. They must challenge the worst of these laws if we have a chance of maintaining any degree of reproductive autonomy.

But the danger of the “perfect” abortion patient is that we erase — however inadvertently — the stories of the quarter of American women who choose abortion for the myriad of reasons that make up the reality of women’s lives — including because they just can’t. We must not cede the ground that abortion must remain a safe, legal option for all women. 

These are the stories that need to be told too, and these patients must be given the compassion and respect they deserve. 

The stories matter.  Let’s make sure we tell them all.

Jessica Waters is an assistant professor in the School of Public Affairs at American University.