The following are messages from women and men who are planning on attending the March for Women's Lives. They also include real stories from women whose lives have been touched by the issue of abortion rights. Their words and their experiences help explain why we all need to march in Washington, D.C., on April 25, and demonstrate our support for reproductive freedom.

In 1992, when I was a 15- year-old sophomore in high school, my mother told me that we were going to the pro-choice march in D.C. I didn't really know what she was talking about and reproductive rights issues were not really something that I paid much attention to. Although I believed in women's rights and considered myself a strong, independent young woman, I had never had much reason to consider the issues of reproductive rights. So I agreed to go along with her, not really knowing what the march would be like or the impact it would have on me, but thinking it sounded interesting.

I remember the march well. I remember being among throngs of mostly women, some men, and children, holding signs saying "Keep Abortion Legal" and "Keep your Laws off my Body," marching together, chanting pro-choice statements. There was a feeling of camaraderie, support, and community among all these people who believed fervently in a woman's right to choose. There was also a sense of urgency—that we don't have the time or luxury to wait for things to get better. We have to work all the time to protect reproductive rights because if we don't, no one will. I remember feeling so amazed and overwhelmed that there were so many strong women who cared about political issues.

That march changed me. Once you've been to something like that and experienced the energy that comes from being with so many other like-minded individuals, you feel empowered and you have a sense of hope that enables you to keep moving forward. Now, as a 27-year-old feminist, I have a more comprehensive understanding of the issues, and I believe it is more important than ever to be part of the March for Women's Lives. I think of the administration that is taking away our reproductive rights, I think of my friends who have had abortions, I think of women I know who have been raped or assaulted, and I think of poor and minority women whose access to health care is so restricted, and I know I have to be there marching. It will be amazing to look around the sea of women, men, and children who are passionate about women's reproductive rights on April 25, 2004. We all have to be there.

—Mira, Richmond, Va.

I'm coming to the March because of the women I knew in the early 70s who needed abortions and couldn't get them. The woman who flew out of state for an abortion, but something went wrong—and she came back still pregnant, still desperate, with no choice but to carry an unwanted pregnancy to term and put it up for adoption, a decision that affected her life, her job, and her family. The 15-year-old girl who got on a bus alone to go to another state for an illegal abortion, telling her parents she was at a friend's house, and thankfully came back alive.

I'm coming to the March because I know how brave, caring and competent today's legal abortion providers are, and so were many of the illegal providers back then. They should never have had to put themselves at risk to provide reproductive health care for women. They still shouldn't. I'm coming to the March because my daughter is just beginning her adult life, and I want her (not the government) to always have the ability to determine the size and timing of her family. (She's coming too!)

I'm coming to the March because I'm at the age where I'd like to be doing something else on Saturday mornings besides greet people as they come to our local Planned Parenthood, so they know that there is community support for their right to access safe reproductive health care, and to distract them from the protesters screaming insanely on the sidewalk.

—Marsha, Rochester, N.Y.

I am coming to the march because I remember the terror, fear and shame of having an illegal abortion; I am coming to the march because Rhoda Bradshaw [former NOW board member, recently deceased] is not able to; I am coming to the march to ensure safe and legal abortions are available and that choice remains an American value.

—Jacqueline, Detroit, Mich.

The government that says "You Can't" is the same government that can say "You have to." It is NOT simply about abortion—the bigger picture is government control. When you consider China, Africa and Afghanistan, it is sobering enough that even Republican women would think twice about it ... See you in April!

—Salomeh

In 1992, I went to a Washington, D.C., march, on a bus sponsored by NOW. I hadn't been active in feminist group activities for some years—except by writing. The issue of reproductive rights was very important to me...still I was a little apprehensive.

I talked my best friend into signing up with me, bought a backpack that could unfold into a stool, plus carry the bottles of cold water and a bag of M&Ms, and purchased some sturdy walking shoes! I also made it a point to explain to my son about acting on one's beliefs...how we were fortunate to live in a country where we were free to do so...and our responsibility to speak for those who cannot.

We met and loaded onto buses in the dark of early morning (4 a.m.!) Some people talked softly, while others grabbed a few minutes of sleep until the sun came up. Around 7 a.m. we stopped somewhere in Virginia at a fast-food place for breakfast (and a bathroom break!).

Arriving in Washington, we joined the larger throng in front of an open stage. It was inspiring to see all the people who had come to have their say. A group near us had three generations marching together... grandmother, mother and daughter. We grew silent as we listened to the famous feminist speakers state our purpose before the first marchers stepped out. It took 30 minutes or so before the forward movement reached us! It was very exciting; although the only part I could see of the famous buildings as our parade marched past were the ornate rooftops and an occasional gargoyle!

Heading home, we stopped for dinner (and another bathroom break!), arriving home around 11 p.m., tired and exhilarated all at the same time.

I've found my backpack, dusted it off, and maybe I'll take water, M & Ms, and some aspirin this time...but I am there!

—Kathy

I March because I had a Pre-Roe abortion in Mexico and I was terrified that I would not live to raise the children I had already produced. The only thing that terrified me more is producing yet one more child that I could not adequately provide for. And so I risked my life and my health to have an illegal, unsafe abortion. Fortunately I was able to continue caring for the children I had already produced after I recovered from the trip to Mexico ... I have spoken to friends, neighbors and strangers about my experience, to remind them that no one should be allowed to determine for any woman or girl when or whether she should become a parent. Reproducing is either priceless or pointless, and it is a personal choice. It's important to remind the country and our legislators that the majority of U.S. citizens support reproductive freedom. No one benefits when any woman or girl is coerced or guilt-tripped into bringing another human being here to share our barely breathable air and dirty drinking water.

—Jean, Greenfield, Calif.

When I was 21, prior to Roe v. Wade, I had a bad pregnancy scare that caused me to rethink my position on abortion. When I thought I was pregnant, I started exploring what I could do, where I could go. I didn't "know" anyone. I couldn't even discuss this among my friends. There was no where to turn. That was the year that I understood desperation. I had been raised as a strict Catholic and opposed abortion as murder like "all good Catholics do." But now I realized that everything is different when the debate stops being philosophical. It's about real lives and real people. Although I soon found that I wasn't pregnant, I would have opted for abortion if it had been available. Others would have chosen differently, but a woman needs to be able to make that difficult choice. Herself. Since those days, friends who had back alley abortions before 1973 have told me their stories. One was anesthetized by being punched unconscious. These are the stories that need to be told.

—Rita, Vienna, Va.

On March 18, 1963 I went to see "Lawrence of Arabia" with my boyfriend. Afterwards he drove me to Logan Airport where I boarded the midnight flight to San Juan, Puerto Rico, checked into the Sheraton Hotel at the airport, didn't sleep, took a cab the next a.m. to the San Turce section of the city to Clinica Pardo.

Cash transaction, cold water douche, doctor asking if I was 21 (what if I hadn't been?), bleeding heart of Jesus framed on the wall, crude spinal, dilation, curettage, a bed to rest in shared with another post-op woman. Post-spinal headache with no meds for 24 hours, hemorrhaging heavily. Doctor slightly annoyed that I was too weak and in too much pain to leave. Feeling as if I had failed Abortion 101. Pain pills, cab back to Sheraton, hemorrhaging, flight to Boston, hemorrhaging, return to work. Hemorrhaging heavily ten days, afraid to go to the doctor because I might be arrested for what I had done.

And I was one of the lucky ones. I did not die during the procedure, get a terminal infection, become sterile, and get raped before the abortion by a member of the clinic "staff." I sent a few more women to Clinica Pardo before Roe v. Wade passed and continue to think that the clinic's physician was one of the kindest men I have met.

Let our younger sisters not go through the old scenarios again—Fels Naptha soap introduced into the cervix, quinine until the ears rang, ipecac, baths in water and dry mustard to make a "drawing poultice" that would draw the fetus out, orangewood cuticle sticks to dilate the cervix prematurely and initiate a miscarriage for which one had to be wary of going to a hospital lest one be charged with and questioned about having committed a crime.

Being alone; being a criminal.

Let's not let it happen again. Women unready for motherhood trying to raise children in a culture that increasingly denies single women the financial, social and educational benefits they might need to become people who think well of themselves and, therefore, their children.

I don't talk about this very much. My young friends think it's ancient history and my older friends—well, they just don't talk. I am surprised at the details I remember; surprised to realize that it was a turning point in my life—made me fully aware of how patriarchy could rule my body. I have had to fight hard to be sure that did not become the defining moment of my life.

I hope we will not have to repeat this particularly bad part of herstory.

—Anonymous

Abortion before Roe v. Wade? Those are painful memories.

I remember what happened to a good friend ... She was attending graduate school in another state. Her Roman Catholic priest started an affair with her. She got pregnant. She couldn't tell anybody.

The priest knew someone who could perform abortions. My friend was taken to this illegal practitioner. The abortion was carried out, and my friend returned to her home with her lover.

She began bleeding heavily. Despite being in a large city, this couple felt they could not call an ambulance. My friend lay helplessly for hours while the priest sat by her side praying. She finally began to heal, so at least she didn't die.

—"Jane," a woman in her 70's

My abortion was so long ago—40 years? I was dreading pain, dreading pregnancy more, and above all, I dreaded being exposed to the dire consequences of doing something illegal. Whatever those consequences were!

I was living out West. I had taken a chance and had intercourse with a fellow student without contraceptive protection. A few weeks later I had to make arrangements to use all my graduate-student money—which wasn't much!—to drive down to Mexico and have an abortion, over the border. Eleven hundred miles of driving, to obtain what women now can find in their home cities.

We must not return to the days of back-alley abortions! We must face down the protestors and demand our human rights.

Doctors and nurses need to join with us to provide abortion and other reproductive health services in ways which are accessible and safe. Train, train, train! We need new, younger abortion practitioners.

I can think of so many other friends who experienced such distressing procedures in the years before Roe v. Wade. We really were struggling with the lack of legal abortion services. One friend ended up having the procedure done by a sympathetic veterinarian!

I am proud of my generation for speaking up and taking risks to join the women's movement and bring about safer reproductive health services.

Protestors?! Heck, what we should do is protest and picket because of the lack of comprehensive contraceptive coverage in our health insurance policies! We must not return to those bad old days.

—"Jane," age 65

When I was divorced with one adopted child, a guy and I started seeing each other. One thing led to another, and some weeks later I realized that I was pregnant. But, I thought, years back I'd had a fair amount of surgery for ovarian disease. I'd tried for years during my marriage to have a baby but my doctors said I couldn't get pregnant.

Now I was older (almost 40), and had little money. And I was facing a hysterectomy because of heavy periods and other signs that my ovarian problems had returned.

I came to my senses. I was pregnant—how dumb can you be? I did not want to marry this man. I could not continue with this pregnancy!

I gathered up my courage and checkbook. I asked my ob/gyn for an abortion. The 1973 Roe v. Wade decision had just come down. I figured it was legal to seek help from a doctor. My doctor and I talked a long time. She wanted to make sure I didn't want to give birth to my own child. I said, no, I can't do it and be a good mother to my adopted child.

I was on my way. Thank heaven my abortion was legal.

—"Jane," 68 years old

In 1969, I suddenly realized I was pregnant—certainly I didn't intend to get pregnant! I was in college in New Orleans. I was only 18 years old.

There was a doctor here in the city who performed abortions in his office—started the "labor" for his women patients who requested an abortion. I guess this was a kind of half-way D & C. Then the patient would return to her home to await the passing of the products of conception, blood clots, etc.

I found the money to pay this doctor, and scheduled an appointment.

I went home as soon as the doctor finished. I was afraid and in pain, and I was all alone ... I'll never forget that experience. Thank God that abortions are now safe and legal.

—"Jane"

Many years ago during my junior year in college, I had a close friend. She wasn't my roommate, but we lived in the same dorm. Let's call her Marcia. This was in Mississippi.

Marcia was in a steady relationship with a great guy. This incident was years before Roe v. Wade in 1973 made legal, safe abortion procedures available in the United States.

One Sunday evening she came into the dorm room looking upset, after spending a weekend in Jackson with her boyfriend. I couldn't figure out what was the matter.

Two years passed before my friend told me what had happened. Finding she was pregnant, she and her boyfriend had not known where to turn. Both were in college; neither of them believed they could drop out to care for a baby. They did not have plans to marry.

They finally were able to locate a medical room student who was willing to perform the abortion in a motel room. Marcia recovered physically. But it was a scary, painful experience for her.

—"Jane"