No. 11: I am collaborating with the inimitable Camila Ochoa Mendoza of the Abortion, with love podcast to publish and air a series of love letters, written and read aloud by people whose lives have been touched by abortion, and who have love to express—to their provider, to their support systems, to the pregnancies they terminated, to themselves.
Abortion is love.
We will be publishing a new love letter every Monday, with enormous love and gratitude to artist Idalina Lehtonen for our gorgeous graphics and composer Anton Olsson for the transcendent music you’ll hear on each episode. You can listen to Marissa read this letter here, or by subscribing to Abortion, with love on your favorite podcast platform. And you can send us a letter of your own, or a response for us to pass onto any of the letter-writers.
(Please remember that these are letters written by individual people, in their own cultural and personal contexts. We believe that everyone’s abortion experiences are valid and should be honored. You may not relate to or resonate with some of the things written in these letters, and that is okay. But we hope that you can recognize the magic and the truth in people honoring their own unique experiences, in their own words.)
This is the last letter that will be read on the podcast, but I will still be publishing abortion love letters, and love-filled calls to action, and other little jewels of hope and grief and rage and pleasure and peace and community here.
Camila, my friend, my collaborator, the gorgeous voice in my ears! I can never thank you enough for your inspiring partnership on this project.
Without further adieu, Love Letter No.11.
Dear Daughter / Love, Marissa
my dearest eloise,
my daughter, my sun
whose light has lit
the darkest of days
(these days)
when choices and fate sit heavy
on my chest
but my heart pushes back
fiercely
it thumps
it dances and leaps
and practically explodes (i swear it)
every time you run across
the pine floor
into my arms and squeeze
your soft hands
around my yearning neck
your pink cheek
hugging mine
and since the beginning of time
(our time, was there ever a before?)
your dark bright eyes have made
a puddle out of me,
sweet babe.
you are truth
and wisdom
and despite the emptiness
that floats in my depths
and a sadness that beckons
to sink
parts of me
you are all i ever dreamed
you are hope
and an anchor
and a love
that plunges
far deeper
than it all.
—Marissa