We Are Women Fetuses, and We Are Pro-Choice

“More than a third of states say fetuses are people.” ~Politico, February 29, 2024

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As a unified coalition of unborn women who possess all the rights of legal personhood, we stand together to advocate for the reproductive freedom of our already-born sisters, whose legal rights are not as protected as our own.

You may ask, “Wait a minute, do you realize that taking a pro-choice stance means you’re literally about to sacrifice yourselves?”

Yes, we do. Women have always been expected to sacrifice ourselves. Does it really matter if we sacrifice ourselves now, as fetuses, or wait until we are ten-year-old rape victims forced to carry children, or impoverished single mothers, or women whose own lives are endangered by remaining pregnant?

What’s the difference whether we meet our demise in utero right now, or 35 years from now when we show up at the ER with heart attack symptoms that will be diagnosed as “cramps,” or brain tumor symptoms that will be diagnosed as “depression,” or life-threatening ectopic pregnancies that no doctor is allowed to treat?

We can sacrifice our unborn selves upon the altar of feminist progress, or we can get born and wait until we have a better shot at becoming domestic violence statistics. So many options.

We tried liaising with the male fetuses to defend reproductive freedom, and at first they were all like “rah rah bodily autonomy” until they figured out that they have skin in this game, literally. Or, if not skin yet, then at least a beating heart 18 days from conception and the ability to smile 12 days from conception. [In reality, at this stage of development, we are actually still in the “germinal” stage of “blastocyst,” which apparently has not prevented us from developing a more accurate grasp of biological science than most members of the GOP.] 

When we asked the male fetuses to help us write letters to our legislators, they had “like, a lot on our plates right now, but we’re still totally supportive of you, and like, you know, let us know what happens. We love ya, babes!”

When we got pissed about how dismissive they were being and tried to explain the difference between “being supportive of us” and “engaging in emotional and actual labor,” they got all bristly and asked if it was “our time of the trimester.” They’ll do anything to get out of work. When we asked them to repost an announcement for a Planned Parenthood campaign, Braden dramatically exclaimed, “Oh no, oh God, I’m having Sudden Infant Death Syndrome!” and Jackson curled up and played stillborn. The rest of them just started crying. Apparently weaponized male incompetence starts in the womb.

Final attempts at conversation stalled at mutterings about “boobies.” Those Oedipal little fuckers can’t wait to get out of the womb and start draining the system.

We’re not even born yet, and we’re already exhausted. Even attempting to fight this battle has intensified our resolve to remain pro-choice, even if it does require self-sacrifice. Self-sacrifice, in 2024, feels oddly empowering. At least it would be our own choice.