Written by Bria Murray for RH Reality Check.This diary is cross-posted; commenters wishing to engage directly with the author should do so at the original post.
Dear Representative Trent Franks,
Today, I watched you debate during the markup for H.R. 3803, or, as you may know it, the District of Columbia Pain-Capable Unborn Child Protection Act, which would ban abortion after 20 weeks in Washington, DC. I watched you valiantly fight to save "the children" from their pain even in the case of rape or incest, or when a mother has been diagnosed with cancer and the treatment needed to save her life is incompatible with the continuation of her pregnancy. I watched you warn the rest of the judiciary committee that abortions are linked to higher rates of suicide, even though this "fact," and the basis for the bill itself (that 20-week-old fetuses can feel pain) flies in the face of all accredited scientific evidence.
And all I could think about was September 7, 2007.
It may seem strange to you. September 7, 2007 was nearly five years ago. Why think about that now? And why such a specific date?
September 7, 2007 was the night I was raped.
September 7, 2007 was the night that my rapist's sperm met my egg and I was impregnated with the child of my rapist.
I thought about all of this as I watched you passionately advocate on behalf of "the tiny little babies" and the only reaction I could muster was "how dare you
How dare you
, Representative Franks.