Not without shame

Right to. Actor Sigrid Bonde Tusvik writes in a chronicle in Dagsavisen that she wishes she had had an abortion, so that she could speak loud and clear about it. And that without shame.

Dear Sigrid: Abortion is certainly not an experience you should want for yourself. I do not treat my worst enemy the trauma of being in such a situation. And I strongly doubt that you would not have experienced shame either, so at least hurt feelings related to your experience.

I certainly do not want to inflict this shame on women who do not experience this situation as life-changing and extremely difficult as I did. Because it is no shame to have an abortion. But I know several others who have had an abortion, and none of it is what doesn't struggle with a range of deep-seated feelings.

Sigrid, you write that journalists in the biggest newspapers in the country have complained that it is difficult to get women to come up with their own stories because many feel shame. And I can understand this very well. Because up until now, I was one of them.

Nor do I want to elaborate on the history of my abortion. Because it hurts to think. But I want to promote some views to contribute to a debate that I think is about something more and somewhat heavier than even my own shame.

Grateful. The line of argumentation used against the reservation right is most often based on ensuring accessibility for the suddenly pregnant, fifteen-year-old high school girl in Finnmark or Sogn og Fjordane, the one who has only one alternative to approach. If this doctor wants to save herself from helping the girl in an emergency, her crisis will be worse.

But I want to add that the experience of getting pregnant in a life situation where it is undesirable is extremely dramatic and traumatic, even for highly educated, apparently resourceful women in their mid-XNUMXs living in the capital, where there is a rush of doctors to approach to.

I am so grateful that my doctor guided and supported me and rejected my shame rather than reinforcing it. With my doctor, I was given more space and tranquility to make a choice that will prove to be one of the most difficult choices of my life. I am so grateful that I didn't even have to spend time examining which doctor would think that I was irresponsible and immoral when I already believed, and still believe, this about myself. In addition, I am a believer. And my choice to have an abortion becomes something I have to work with my God. Not at all with my God and my GP.

The moment I wanted to opt out of a pregnancy, I was as weak and vulnerable as a teenage girl in the village. In that situation, we are all weak, regardless of the background or how resourceful we seem to be. This cannot be about creating alternative opportunities for everyone in a way that defends a doctor's personal morality in a crisis situation. Because that's what an abortion is. A crisis situation.

Crisis Situation. I have a child. And I know the miracle that comes from completing a pregnancy. And although I still work with my own shame, I have no regrets about my choice. And I am deeply grateful for a health system designed to help me in my crisis rather than increase my sense of shame.

Although it is argued that the right of reservation can be perceived as important for physicians' autonomy, faith and health, I believe the system in which it works today prioritizes patient health, and that this should still be the first priority in a crisis situation.

I shudder at the idea that the health and sense of autonomy of those who perform health and care services should be able to trump the patient's needs in a crisis situation. The duty of medical assistance and the consideration of the woman should take precedence in this case.

Like that. Now I've talked about it. I hope that helps.

Nosizwe Lise Baqwa is a graduate of international studies and diplomacy and works daily as a campaign coordinator for ICAN Norway. She is also a music artist and is currently working on her first studio album.