Move over Wendy Davis, the pro-abortion crowd has a new hero.

Via Salon:

I’m pregnant. I just found out. I’m having an abortion on Saturday at 10 a.m.

Those are three text messages I sent to my closest friends, in that order, last weekend, a few hours after I went to the Rite Aid near my boyfriend’s apartment to buy an at-home pregnancy test. I’d walked to the pharmacy in a pair of awkwardly fitting denim cutoffs and the shirt I slept in the night before, with the singular goal of ruling out pregnancy as an explanation for why my period still hadn’t shown up a week after it was supposed to. I had all my usual pre-period symptoms — cramps, sore breasts, insatiable hunger — but no period. I assumed the lateness had something to do with my horrific and sporadic eating habits, as I subsist mostly on Hot Cheetos and red licorice. That probably seems delusional; it probably seems less so when I mention I’ve had a copper IUD for a year.

So, no, it didn’t seem outrageous to think my period was just reconfiguring itself, as it has many times in the past. What did seem outrageous, though, were the two blue lines that showed up on the first pregnancy test I took when I got home — the ones that indicated I was pregnant, making my heart start pounding so loud I really could hear it in my ears, just like in the movies. I left the bathroom with the test in my hand and went to go show my boyfriend, who held me while I cried and shook and tried to catch my breath. I took the second test to be sure, then sent those first two text messages to my sister and my friends. I sent the third one after I went to Planned Parenthood to book an appointment I hoped I’d never have to make. […]

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.