NRL News

A “pre-abortion” story shows more uncertainty than author lets on

by | Aug 6, 2014


By Dave Andrusko

Jenny Kutner

Jenny Kutner

On the masthead, Jenny Kutner is listed as an assistant editor at, “focusing on sex, gender, love and feminism.” In a piece that appeared last Friday, Kutner informed her readers she would not be writing about the “aftermath” of her impending abortion (others have been there, done that) but “the week before” her abortion.

We quickly learn that once she’d found out she’s pregnant, Kutner scheduled an appointment for last Saturday—which no doubt she kept—at 10:00 am at Planned Parenthood.

She tells us she can’t really know in advance how she will feel, which, as we will see, is an important fact to know as you read her narrative which doubles as her justification. All Kutner knows for sure is that Saturday she will be pregnant, Sunday she won’t be.

There is “a sort of collective narrative that has formed, especially amongst pro-choice women like myself,” she writes. To be sure, Kutner needs to know about the “aftermath,” so she dips into that “collective narrative” which will assure her that “my life will go on once I carry out this decision that is totally and completely right for me, not everyone, and that is totally and completely right for so many other women who have made or will make the same choice.”

But, Kutner adds, “right now I’m not in the aftermath. I’m in a part of the abortion experience that feels just as crucial as the abortion itself.” (emphasis added)

Before telling us her story (but not the baby’s) Kutner assures us she’s not looking for anyone’s opinion/approval. Kutner tells us she is going to have that abortion, and besides everyone agrees it’s a great idea!

She’s from Texas and took part in the 2013 pro-abortion crush, led by state Sen. Wendy Davis, whose filibuster temporarily stymied passage of HB 2. Now Kutner is awfully thankful she is in New York where obtaining an abortion is about as difficult as finding a deli.

She writes repeatedly that “an abortion is the right choice for me.” But not, she hastens to add, “because I’m insecure, but rather because I doubt I could be more firmly convinced.” Hard to believe that, but that’s Kutner’s story and she’s sticking with it.

Much of the remainder of her pre-abortion piece is about how she had been on an IUD and some (not her, of course) would say she was “entitled” to an abortion. Never mind that at some level that no doubt is exactly what Kutner believes.

She must toe the party line which is never, ever to judge any abortion—for any reason or no reason, at any point in pregnancy, or if it’s the first or the fifteenth. To pause ever so slightly, to fail to offer a blanket exculpation for any abortion, would be to betray the Sisterhood of Death.

This leads Kutner to write (in solidarity)

“She is just as entitled as I am to make my same decision or a different one, and she deserves the same access to a safe abortion that I do if she chooses one, free of judgment — because this is not a question of who is better or worse. It’s a question of who should get to exercise their rights, and the answer is every single woman.”

But for even the least discerning reader there are hints everywhere that Kutner is not as absolutely comfortable with the decision to end her “zygote’s” life as she insists, and she is anxious about how the abortion will change her.

So, not surprisingly, as Saturday approaches, she tells us she has grown furious “at the thought of those anonymous people who would tell me I’m wrong not to stay pregnant.” If it’s no big deal—and her boyfriend, family, and friends all agree with her decision—why should the feelings of “anonymous people” anger Kutner.

In the penultimate paragraph, she includes a curious statement about how, perhaps later, she will be a better “activist.” Here’s her conclusion:

“Right now I don’t feel like an activist at all, just a woman who’s having an abortion. I’m a woman fortunate enough to have so much love and support I don’t know how to process it all. That’s rare and special, but still it feels like no one can help me much at the moment. This weekend the people who love me will sit in the waiting room while I walk into my abortion by myself. I don’t know what comes next, how or if this will change who I am. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. I can’t know that now. It isn’t Saturday yet.”

What if—just a thought here—she had showered on her unborn baby the love and support she’d been given. What if Kutner considered for just a moment that, in fact, she is not walking into that abortion by herself.

She is a mother—willingly or unwillingly—who is entering a center where her little one will be vacuumed out as if she/he were so much soot.

Had she done so, the result for both of them might have been different.

Tip of the hat to

Categories: Abortion
Tags: abortion