Liesel Feldstein
Tapping into my Judaism helped me feel like I was not alone or unworthy of deciding what to do with my own body and my future.
Tapping into my Judaism helped me feel like I was not alone or unworthy of deciding what to do with my own body and my future.
Roe is gone and pills are here— but we still need clinics.
Roe v. Wade spelled the end of the need to put your life on hold if you became pregnant by accident.
Many of us have lost sleep over the direction our country has taken. I offer my story here with the understanding that we must prepare to take care of each other.
We knew this moment would come. But it still hurts.
This year, Choices celebrates its 50th anniversary, and with abortion access once again under attack, it is the perfect time to follow Hoffman’s lead and rededicate ourselves to this fight for justice.
Two of my pregnancies ended in miscarriage, and the other two resulted in the greatest joys of my life. But all four were a burden — emotionally and physically, personally and professionally.
As I look at my new daughter, I think about what a few more decades of restrictions could mean for her future. I knead harder.
We are not used to mobilizing against the theology of any other tradition. But this is different.
Decades later, at a Jewish symposium on abortion, a male leader self-righteously intoned, “Abortion is never an easy decision.” He’d obviously never been there.