. She reminded me of myself—we seemed to be about the same age; she too was a Black woman who I imagined had grown up in the outer boroughs of New York City. I answered her questions calmly and succinctly.
Why hadn’t I protected myself? Why hadn’t I had the courage to create boundaries around my womb? Why had I silenced my preferences in the name of people-pleasing? Both the doctor and the nurse treated me with great kindness and care, as the website for the clinic had promised. I was doing my best to breathe through the procedure and remain calm until it was over. And then, the nurse—the same woman who had spoken with me before—let her eyes linger on me. She seemed to be trying to solve a problem.
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