On Waking Up

Hub and I went to an abortion storytelling event.  It was held in an auditorium that doubles as a gymnasium: a basketball court with a stage, and it was packed.  The first young woman was introduced.  She told the story of her not-ready-for-a-baby first-trimester abortion.  The crowd clapped politely as she dismounted the stage.

But one woman, a stout, middle-aged, African-American woman on the other side of the room, started to cry.  She cried and moaned and wailed for the baby that had been lost.  She called to Jesus and to God and she mourned the tragedy of life interrupted. 

Then a younger, skinny, blond-pony-tailed, college-age woman jumped up.  She was enraged.  She shouted at the first woman that she was wrong, that there never was any baby, and that her lamentations were stupid and harmful to the women there.  "Get your hands off my body!"  she spat.  "My body, my choice."

And even though I believed the older woman was wrong and the younger woman was correct, those words cut me.  They hurt me as they hurt the black woman.

The lights went out and the room erupted into chaos.  People all around stood up and started shouting at each other.  I squeezed Hub's hand, told him, "I'm so sorry."  I stood up and left him there, frozen with his own terror.  Through the din of folding chairs skidding across lacquered wood and undecipherable rage, I walked to the front of the room.  I climbed the stairs of the empty stage, and walked across that rubbery black floor, stepping on old tape and over thick wires, and I stood at the microphone.  It was too short.  I wrestled it from its stand and held it to my mouth.

"I love babies."  I said, into the abyss.  The words echoed around the room and everyone fell silent.  They didn't know which side I was on.  They stared up at my silhouette in the darkness.

"And I have to apologize to my husband..."  I continued, earnestly "Who wants nothing in the world more than for me to sit down right now.  I love you." 
And then I opened my mouth to tell my story.

Before the first word could leave my mouth, I woke up. 

I woke from deep sleep to wide-awake.  My heart was racing.  I was shaking.  Dawn was just beginning to brighten the shadows out the window.  Hub was at my side, silently and peacefully asleep.  I looked at the clock.  It was 6:00 on the dot. 

And I knew that it was time to get up.