By Dave Andrusko
The headline is, “How Motherhood Made Me a Better Abortion Provider,” but I’m guessing it won’t be long before Dr. Ghazaleh Moayedi provides a sequel for Glamour magazine under the headline, “How being an abortionist made me a better mother.”
To put it mildly, this is a nauseous post. But, to be honest, I could not help but wonder what there had been in her lifetime to explain the answer that might repel, say, 99% of morally sentient human beings:
“Are you still planning on doing abortions after you have your baby?” a colleague asked. I was visibly pregnant in my third trimester and pushing a patient to the operating room. I was surprised at the question; We were friends and most of my coworkers knew I became a doctor in order to provide abortion care. “Of course I am, why?” I asked her. She replied: “I just thought it might be hard to do abortions once you have a baby yourself.”
And then the initial kicker:
“Nothing’s going to change,” I smiled.
So without having read another sentence, what would you guess would be her explanation of why having a baby of her own would make Moayedi better at eliminating other women’s babies? Okay, let’s see what she says.
She tells us, “I became pregnant halfway through my second year of OB/GYN residency training,” which was frowned upon. She worked hard “to prove I was strong.” After she had her baby boy, Moayedi tells us, “I returned committed to demonstrating vulnerability.”
She goes on to write
I am often asked if providing abortion care is hard as a mother—as if abortion somehow exists in a realm outside of motherhood. [Actually I’m guessing most people, including perhaps her colleague, thought exactly that.]
But, motherhood is not an accidental or natural job; motherhood is a job done with intention
Guess what’s coming?
“There is no Mother’s Day card to celebrate abortion,” she writes, although clearly Moayedi believes there should be.
There are Mother’s Day cards to celebrate giving hugs, wiping noses, and kissing boo-boos—actions that are seen as the core of how a mother expresses love for her children. For my patients who were not parents, and did not want to be at that moment, or who never want to be a parent, I recognize their abortions as an act of intentional motherhood. Choosing when to parent is an act of love. For my patients that were already parenting, I feel the deep love they had both for the children they had and for the pregnancies they were ending. Choosing an abortion is an act of love.
Motherhood is intentionality. If you intentionally bathe your kid in hugs and kisses, that’s one dimension of intentionality. Vacuuming out your unborn baby or severing tiny arms from little torsos or poisoning your unborn child—those are intentional acts as well.
Moayedi feels a “deep love” for either option. Six of one, half dozen of another.
After all, what’s the dif?
She ends her tribute to moral equivalency on steroids with a story of a woman who’d come in for a “five minute abortion procedure” with two kids in tow. Afterwards
we laughed about motherhood as her other child watched videos on my phone. We laughed about how demanding and obstinate toddlers can be, about the tribulations of potty training, and about how absolutely strange that “Daddy Finger” song is.
I was wrong: becoming a mother fundamentally changed everything.
I suspect Moayedi may not be the type who would get, let alone appreciate, the irony of her conclusion.
The “Daddy Finger” children’s song shows a hand with the dad and the mom represented by the thumb and the index finger, respectively. The middle finger and the ring finger represent a little girl and a little boy. The pinkie represents a tiny baby.
I strongly suspect abortionist Moayedi, a “fellow with Physicians for Reproductive Health,” missed the lethal irony that she had just cut off the little finger.