Planned Parenthood has competition in the race to see which can display the most callous disregard for human life.
Carafem is an abortion chain that actively seek to portray abortion as if it’s a splurge-y, comfy, spa-like experience for women.
So far, the operation is small, but seeks aggressive expansion.
In 2015, a Carafem center opened in Washington, D.C.
Another is located in Atlanta, Georgia, and earlier in March, a third opened in Augusta, Georgia.
“We want to be really out loud about what we do,” said Melissa Grant, Carafem’s vice president of health services, as she sat inside one of the clinic’s exam rooms. Then she echoed the slogan on another of Carafem’s provocative pink ads: “Abortion. Yeah, we do that.”
In recent years, abortion rights activists have embraced a mantra of openness to erase the stigma of ending pregnancies, through initiatives such as “Shout Your Abortion,” the Sea Change project, and the “1 in 3 campaign.” Abortion providers like Whole Woman’s Health, whose clinics are in five states including Texas, haveplastered the words of famous feminists on the walls of exam rooms.
Even against that backdrop, Carafem stands out. One of its ads touts medication abortions, used in the first trimester, as “the 10-week-after pill” — and even has turned that slogan into a Twitter hashtag. Another ad depicts a text exchange in which one friend casually suggests abortion to another. All the ads grab attention with that eye-popping shade of Carafem pink.
The fact that this is going on in the “Bible belt” is causing a bit of an outrage.
And with good reason.
Abortion is not a day at the spa. Women who go for a day of facials, mani-pedis, and massages don’t tend to walk out with physical and emotional scars.
Seaweed wraps don’t cause the death of a developing life.
Carafem’s promotion of abortion pills has “crossed the boundaries of honesty and decency,” said Jody Duffy, the executive director of Post Abortion Treatment and Healing, which offers women — including some former Carafem patients — Christian counseling following abortions.
Elizabeth Greenwald, the leader of a local Georgia Right to Life chapter, said Carafem deceives women “by marketing a spa-like environment to hide the ugly truth that they’re killing an innocent child.” Mike Griffin, a pastor who lobbies for the Georgia Baptist Convention, said the fact that Carafem “creates a luxurious environment” in its clinic amounts to putting “a positive spin on a wicked act.”
Carafem want this framed as a “women’s health” issue (as all abortion supporters do), but neglect to point out that the majority of abortions are performed for convenience and as birth control, not for any legitimate health concern.
Carafem launched its first clinic two years ago just outside Washington, D.C. The nonprofit sparked some controversy there, too.
When the clinic sought to promote its abortion services on public transportation this winter with the “10-week-after-pill” slogan, the D.C. Metro rejected the ad. So Carafem put the same ad on a billboard truck and had it driven around the city.
I remember that. It was outrageous then, as well.
“[W]omen are traveling further distances and incurring sizable expenses to access abortion care when they need it,” Carafem President Chris Purdy wrote in a Huffington Post op-ed last year. “… because of state-specific, restrictive laws, they may have to stay in hotels, miss days of work, and pay for childcare while being forced to adhere to a ‘mandatory waiting period.’ There has to be a better way.”
Yes. That “better way” would include taking some personal responsibility and using protection or abstaining from activities that would lead to unwanted pregnancy, in the first place.
There’s also the “better way” of adoption.
If a woman finds she can’t properly care for a child, there are so many couples out there who desperately want a child, but for whatever reason, can’t have one, themselves. They turn to adoption as an option to fill that emotional void.
There’s no way to clean this up.
Abortion is the ending of a human life, and organizations like Carafem see a way to make a profit from the irresponsible behavior and fears of women.
Trying to clean it up and make it “fun” and indulgent is absolutely sick.
And it’s also dishonest, because it covers up the very ugly truth of what abortion is, for the women and the children they destroy in the womb.
The Atlanta clinic is inside an aging office building on Peachtree Street, tucked between two Mexican restaurants. Located on the eighth floor — past a security guard, up an elevator, and past a locked entrance — Carafem’s clinic has a chic aesthetic that includes pink plush chairs in exam rooms and framed photos of smiling millennials fit for a magazine spread. Clinic staffers offer patients tea and snacks.
“We want this to be the best health experience you’ve ever had,” Grant said. “Not just the best women’s experience you’ve ever had.”
The “spa experience” costs women around $550 for those women who are within the first 90 days of their pregnancy.
Human misery has quite the price tag.
Before women leave the clinic, staffers encourage them to jot down notes about their care, either on #MyCarafemExperience cards that are shared on social media or in pamphlets passed on to future clients.
I’m sure if there are any cards that say, “My God, what have I done?” those don’t make it to Twitter.
Carafem is still a small operation, and for that, we can be thankful.
This is absolutely ghoulish, and it should never be allowed to go mainstream.