It’s hard to explain what it feels like to know that, just a few generations ago, my great-great-grandmother was a slave woman whose body was controlled by a slave master. The knowledge becomes harder to stomach as I reflect on the past and realize what little has changed. When I gave birth to my child, my experience recalled that legacy and confirmed my own lack of bodily autonomy, as perceived by the physicians who assisted me and determined the quality of care I received.
It’s My Body
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