Four years: Savita, we’re sorry

Four years.

Four years since a mother and father lost a daughter. Four years since siblings lost a sister. Four years since a husband lost his wife. Four years since extended family, friends and colleagues lost someone that they loved. Four years since the unnecessary death of Savita Halappanavar. The unnecessary death of a beautiful, widely loved and loving 31-year-old occurred on October 28th, 2012. Savita died one week after being admitted to the maternity unit at Galway’s University Hospital due to a septic miscarriage. Failed by the system after being refused a termination because professionals in the 21st century are somehow bound to a book written 3,500 years ago. The tragic story of Savita Halappanavar shone a global spotlight on the archaic rules intertwined in the Irish healthcare system and the absolute necessity to dismantle the control that the Catholic Church has on the bodies of Irish women. Laws that disregard and impede sound judgment of professionals and instead aim to criminalise women. The entire country mourned for a woman they had never met. We watched RTÉ News bulletins with tears in our eyes. We spoke of her story with a lump in our throat. We used social platforms to comment and express our anguish at the failure with anger in our stomachs. We were touched. That could have been any one of us. A woman with a womb. No bodily autonomy. A woman. Thousands protested in the wake of her death. And over the last four years have protested against Ireland’s abortion laws and for the women forced to make unnecessary journeys every single day. On September 24th, I was just one of approximately 20,000 people that took to the streets of Dublin to March for Choice. As we moved from the Garden of Remembrance to Dáil Éireann, I held a camera phone above my head so that people at home could follow the event on the Her.ie Facebook page. 235,084 more people joined the march from every corner of the world as they watched the live stream, with many sharing stories and encouraging commentary. As we walked with REPEAL emblazoned across our chests in black and white, I spoke with activists, writers, volunteers, and women who had terminations. I admired the strength and honesty. The togetherness. The power the collective had. This was a moment. I heard the name Savita many times. Savita’s story will never be forgotten, as she was not the first to be failed by the system and she may not be the last. Four years and approximately 17,000 unnecessary journeys later, we’re still waiting. Four years and we’re still defiant. Four years and we’re still fighting. Four years and our collective voices shout louder than ever. Savita, we're sorry. We will continue the battle to Repeal the 8th amendment with resounding determination for four years more like the criminals that we are.