Not Again

Say I am thirty-eight years old.
I have to catch a bus to get to work as an assistant dietitian at a hospital.
Is this a cool story yet?
So usually my son walks me to the bus stop, but he broke his leg on the stairs at school last night.
I don't have sick days left at work, so I ask my daughter to stay home with her brother, and I head
off to my bus, which leaves before daylight.
My daughter also has to get her sister to the school bus. So she has her hands full.
 I hurry toward the corner. I attempt to cross a business driveway. A car pulls out, blocking my
path.  I establish eye contact with the driver, while a police helicopter suddenly appears overhead.
This stranger continues to stare at me, refusing to unblock my path. I glance up at the copter.
My husband is serving in Afghanistan, and I do not ever want to tell him this story.
Eventually the guy looks up at the cops, then drives off, deciding apparently he will not take the risk.
What if there had been no witness? There was no other person in the vicinity that morning.
What if I had been attacked, but lived? Many women have been. Many, many women have been. Would I have shared the story of what had happened to me with anyone? I'd have been so worried about the heartbreak it could cause my parents.
Had I gotten pregnant from such an assault, would I be forced to carry to term?
If I get pregnant for any reason at all or by any means at all, what does it have to do with you?
If I decide to have an abortion, and you decide to block my will and ability to carry out what I have decided -then that's between us. You and I have the problem.
God hasn't a thing to do with it. You do not speak for him, or for me. You also don't speak for any unborn person anywhere- surely not any belonging to my body.