Post op dating
To many people, the only thing worth knowing about me is that I am a doctor who performs abortions.They probably don’t think much about my amazing family, my three little dogs, my devotion to my students, or my skill at restoring old furniture.At parties, sometimes a woman will catch my eye from across the room and make a beeline toward me.As we chat, she will reveal, in a hushed voice: “I’ve had an abortion.” I’m simultaneously touched and saddened that my new acquaintance feels compelled to tell her story to a complete stranger — and to do so in a whisper. How could I expect the men I date to be any different?Neither the tattoo nor my new perspective changed everything.There was the entrepreneur with political aspirations who sent mixed messages and ultimately drifted away.I was tired of playing games, and for the first time in my life, I was ready for someone to love me because I provide abortions, not in spite of it.
In more instances than I’d like to recall, this has meant that a new relationship ends before it really starts.
For example, in Pennsylvania, where I live and work, a recent bill (SB3) proposed by the state legislature seeks to ban surgical abortions in the second trimester.
If this bill passes, my patients’ lives could be endangered; and if I follow the standard protocols to save them, I could be prosecuted under the law as a felon.
This bill was written without consulting with any medical experts, and is strongly opposed by all mainstream medical associations and physician groups.
And yet, it may pass with enough votes to override even our governor’s veto.
In addition, the ongoing threats to reproductive health care have left me with little extra energy to deal with disapproval or embarrassment from men.