Only current & former law students will appreciate this

I just reviewed a family violence arrest where a 75 year-old man assaulted his 80 year-old wife. In our database, I have to check off whether the victim was pregnant: yes, no or n/a. At first I checked n/a, but then paused and thought, "But wait, shouldn't that really be "no?" I mean, what about the fertile octogenarian? Can't rule it out!

I'm warped for life.

Summer Doldrums Commence in 3, 2, 1...

Oh, blogosphere, how I have neglected you. Unfortunately I don't forsee that improving much anytime soon. For one, I am really no longer inspired by this blog. I've never done much with it, besides regularly bitch about stuff. And now I don't even update regularly.

I really thought things might ease up, but the past couple of months have been just as hellish. I still haven't gotten back on my exercise routine and my eating habits are still awful. I was smoking and drinking more than I wanted to be, but after I started to feel myself getting sick, I put a stop to that and I feel much better for it. I don't have much time for enjoyable things, which is wearing me down.

I'm exhausted. Since January, I've been President of the Lilith Fund again. And since January, I've had an ongoing conflict with a board member who acts as if they should be the organization's director. I feel like I'm constantly being scrutinized and undermined. I feel like I'm not listened to, not respected. I expend so much energy responding to this person and putting out the fires they start that I feel like I can never get to the point of moving the organization forward. Much sleep has been lost, many cigarettes smoked as a way to decompress (I know, that's no excuse). I've almost walked away from the organization so many times, but I can't.

Lilith is not just an organization I believe in and a cause about which I am passionate. I co-founded Lilith with my best friends. When I look back to those days, it's not just a time when we all took on a big undertaking with no experience and no idea what we were doing and we succeeded, but we had fun working together. We all busted our asses and built something great. And we did it together. It wasn't me, it wasn't any other individual. It was truly a collaborative effort. Then I come back to the leadership of the organization years later to discover that power and responsibility have been largely centralized, while other members flounder and eventually leave, never feeling like they've found their place and never having a sense of ownership in the organization. And often they are critisized for this, when a large part of it isn't their fault when they weren't allowed the freedom to contribute, to do the work, and when they did the work, they were nitpicked to death. I can't just walk away from it now. As much as it's driving me to drink, I have to be strong and endure this difficulty, so that we can move back to a happier place with the organization.

Fortunately, this is somewhat balanced by my involvement with the National Network of Abortion Funds. They just elected me Vice President of the board, which was an unexpected honor. I'm constantly inspired by the women on the board and staff, as well as all the amazing people I've met from funds around the country and in Mexico, Canada, London & the virtual world. I feel really blessed to get to spend several days three times per year with these women, to learn from them and get to know them. They keep me grounded and focused on my work with Lilith, no matter how painful it can be.

So that's what's going on with me (unpaid) professionally. The jobbie job is about the same. I love my co-workers and I believe in the work, but there are days when I'm SO OVER divorcing people, SO OVER the shitty things people do to each other, SO OVER men who beat up/stalk/threaten/torture/harass their wives. But I keep plugging along. I'm glad to be gainfully employed with benefits right now because I know that out there, it's pretty damn bleak. I'm counting my blessings.

In other news, I'm moving this weekend. A good friend bought a house and asked me to move in. I will soon be living in a bedroom with closets and not a glorified laundry room. I'll have central A/C! Cable! A garage! Fenced yard! Mostly I'm excited to be living with one of my best friends. My roommates are great and I have no complaints after two years, but there's something different, better about living with a friend (assuming that your lifestyles don't conflict to the point where you end up not being friends because you drove each other crazy). Fortunately, K and I have similar OCD tendencies. And we both want to eat healthy and exercise more. I just quit my gym so I can join hers next month (it's not as nice, but it's waaaay cheaper and closer to the house). I've invested in a Wii Fit (well, invested in the Wii, my granny gave me her Fit because she didn't like that it insulted her and she fell off of it once and is now scared of it). So, fun times ahead.

But this week the heat is dragging me down. It's not even July and it's been 100 degree day after 100 degree day. It's predicted to be 103 on the day I move most of my crap, the forecaster cheerfully referring to it as "abundant sunshine." It's not sunshine, asshole, it's an oven. Set to broil. It's getting to me. I don't know why I'm still living here. Seriously, as I move in with a friend - a place I'm excited about - I think about why I still haven't escaped Austin. And it gets me down. Why can't I be happy here? Because my heart is somewhere else, some undetermined location. Or maybe it's nowhere. Maybe I'm always going to want to be somewhere else, looking for a new adventure.

But regardless, the choices I've made have me stuck here temporarily. I just need to focus on what I really want out of life and make the sacrifices to make it happen (which means going without and not travelling for awhile so I can pay down debt). It will happen. In the meantime, I will keep plugging along, wiping away the underboob sweat, and seeking refuge in Barton Springs from time to time.

One of those weeks where Life has punched me out and I just want to scream

This past weekend was my future sister-in-law's bachelorette debauchery in San Antonio. So Sunday I was spent. Brain cells = at best numbed, at worst far fewer. I had two greasy Mexican food brunches at Mi Tierra, first with Steve, Kirsten and kids and Aaron & Kelly and then again with the bachelorette contingent several hours later. I was all about getting in my car, driving home and crashing. I'd left my phone in the car and when I got it, I saw I had a voicemail from someone who normally wouldn't be calling me that early on a Sunday. I listened and with the first tremor of her voice, I knew it was bad.

"Heather, I don't know if you heard the news but Dr. Tiller was shot and killed in his church this morning..."

It didn't sink it. It's a sad statement on how little esteem I hold the so-called "pro-life" movement that I wasn't exactly shocked, but the news wasn't registering.

I turned to Kelley, "Oh my god, Dr. Tiller was killed." I then told her who he was and I just started gushing out his life story, how he came to do abortions and his philosophy. And suddenly there I was, driving down I-35, choking back tears.

I got home and in my hangover haze, I tried to process it. I got on the blogs and the rest of the day was a roller coaster of anger and weeping. I sent out some emails, "What is going to be our response? Let's get a vigil together." I was up late, despite my extreme exhaustion.

Monday I felt like I was beating my head against a wall. I saw the notices for vigils in Boston, DC, Portland and other cities. No one had really responded to me. I began to get despondent. A friend of mine who is interning at my organization and I sat down and brainstormed. I put in more phone calls. Finally, in the late afternoon, I heard back from a local abortion provider and one of her staff. We were all on the same page and planned a conference call for the next day. More emails went out and on Tuesday, in a conference call lasting less than a 1/2 hour, all the work was delegated and someone from every major group and clinic in town was on board. I was completely blown away by my sisters and how we were able to get it together. No one was stressed. No one bore a heavier burden than the rest. No one tried to take over the show. We came together in a way that normally would have made me singing to the heavens, if it weren't for one of the saddest occasions I could imagine.

All week I've been thinking of Dr. Tiller. As I read the articles, the stories about him, the words from women he's helped throughout the years, I tear up over and over again. I barely knew him. I heard him speak once. I went to conferences with some of his staff, talked to them on the phone. But he and the amazing women who worked for him were those type of people who stick out in your mind as exceptional. Exceptionally kind, exceptionally compassionate, exceptionally courageous. They understood that abortion is but a small part of life, a necessary medical procedure for many. Abortion has been around since the dawn of time, since women first learned what herbs to ingest so that they could keep their offspring to a manageable, survivable level for them, so that we could evolve to be something more than rabbits, stuck popping out young at every opportunity without the ability to do more with our lives. Our bodies abort naturally all the time. But it's part of women's reproduction, someone many men have always and will probably always be threatened by, so whenever any amount of autonomy and power tends to sway in a woman's favor, they strike back with fear and vengeance.

But I want to get to the point before this becomes absurdly long. There is so much to say here and I've had some wine and it's late and I'm emotional. I'll probably want to edit this entry in a major way tomorrow, having committed the Big Blogging Sin of writing while Under the Influence. I'm still reeling from the beautiful candlelight vigil this evening, blissfully free from disrespectful protesters so blinded by ignorant rhetoric they don't know when to just step back and let someone grieve. To their credit, they stayed away and chose to be visible elsewhere today. And trust me, this week, even that little credit comes so begrudgingly I'm literally holding back bile.

Rather than ramble on, I'm going to transcribe my remarks from this evening. Because much time went into what I said and I spent most of the day reading over it and crying alone at my desk. Right now, I don't trust myself to say it any better than I did earlier. Here goes:

I prepared remarks today and then late in the afternoon I found this story from a woman who went to Dr. Tiller. I wanted to share it because it's not a side of Dr. Tiller that will be portrayed in the media. I think it perfectly illustrates that he listened to women and he profoundly understood and trusted in women to make the right decisions for themselves.

In 2002 I found out I was carrying triplets. My husband did not want me to have them. The day of my appointment I was scared and not sure this was the right decision. They took me back and did an ultrasound. I asked if they all had heartbeats and the nurse said yes. I asked if I would have the chance to talk to the doctor and right away she went and got Dr Tiller. He came in and looked at my babies on the screen. Then he looked at me and said “God gave you these babies, it’s not my job to take them away.” He asked if I agreed and I immediately said yes. He told the nurse to take me to the counter and have them give me my money. You know that day was a turning point for me. I ended up having a great pregnancy and three healthy baby girls. I can never thank Dr. Tiller enough for sending me away that day.

I first heard Dr. Tiller speak at a National Network of Abortion Funds conference in 1999. His words from that speech have stayed with me over the years. He said, "It's criminal to give a woman the technology to find out about the problems in her pregnancy and then not allow her to do anything about it." This was after he'd shown us a slide show of shocking fetal abnormalities and told us about the heart wrenching decisions the couples had come to in deciding to terminate the pregnancies.

I knew of Dr. Tiller through my work with abortion funding and I'd had many interactions with his kind and amazing staff. But when I heard Dr. Tiller speak that night, I gained a deeper understanding about abortion. And I was in absolute awe of him.

We have lost so much more than an abortion provider, so much more than a person. We have lost a true champion of human rights, someone who understood the complexity of this issue and showed an amazing dedication to women's reproductive autonomy.

Dr. Tiller once said "This battle is about self-determination by women of the direction and course of their lives. Abortion is about women's hopes and dreams. Abortion is a matter of survival for women."

Through the years, he saved many women's lives and did so with unmatched compassion. He has a vision for a better world. In his own words, "We need a new paradigm that consists of kindness, courtesy, justice, love and respect in all our relationships." Dr. Tiller put these principles into practice everyday.

Dr. Tiller understood how detrimental financial barriers to abortion are to women and that without financial assistance, abortion is an "unfulfilled promise." He personally worked to break down these financial barriers, both in his own clinic and through his support for the National Network of Abortion Funds, which received a check from him the day after he died.

Dr. Tiller was dedicated to the women he served. When asked why he showed up to work the morning after being shot in both arms, he said, "I'm a health care provider. We had patients to take care of." When his clinic was bombed in 1986, he hung out a sign that read, "Hell, no. We won't go."

So as we struggle to make some sense out of this horrible tragedy, this profound loss, the best way we can honor Dr. Tiller is not to give up and to make our presence known. Keep speaking out, both for yourselves and for the women who can't or won't. Hell, no. We won't go.

And here I am, raw, angry, sad, yet inspired. I know so very deep down in the core of my being that I am in the right. No one can ever convince me otherwise. I have experienced abortion personally. I understand what it's like based on my own experience and through a decade of talking to women about their own unwanted pregnancies. I base this not on rhetoric, but on reality. No one has told me what to think or feel. I have not been fed a line of thinking. Women have abortions. Women need abortions. And just like the wolf mother will eat her young when it is the right thing for the survival of the species, women will always have and need abortions, legal or not. And we need to trust her to know when this is right or this is wrong. For only then can we move toward a just and equal society.

People, fair warning that I will immediately delete any disrespectful comments, and I am the only judge of what is and isn't disrespectful. This blog is not a free speech zone except for me. Sorry and I know that's pretty hypocritical coming from a civil libertarian. But I don't care. I am too raw from this shit to even listen to your fucking crap. Your side comes from a place of ultimate disrespect for women and violence and I won't allow it here. Not now. If you want to be respectful or have questions, I'll have a civil discourse from you, but if you FUCKING DARE to call me or Dr. Tiller a "baby killer," your shit will be deleted tout suite. And that is NOT up for debate. Suck it.