”When my mother was pregnant with her fourth child in the mid 50’s, the doctor said she should have an abortion. He said it was irresponsible of her to have gotten pregnant again. That her state of health, childhood polio and lifelong limp, and her new social class, should have taught her better. 40 years later she was still pissed off.

She did not have the abortion. The child was my mother, a girl after having had three boys, growing up to be a scrawny teenager by the end of the 60’s and a young mother to me in the mid 70’s, and I had two daughters of my own. That’s life.

My grandmother showed me the helix the doctor prescribed for her to use after the abortion. A blue, round box, kept in a drawer in the basement, bearing witness to bullying and quiet resistance.“