Evan: A woman facing an unexpected pregnancy experiences a spectrum of emotions and thoughts that those who have not found themselves in that situation cannot claim to know. Theirs is a world of confusion and questions, and who better to come to the rescue than the knights in shining armor of the family planning industry: Crisis Pregnancy Centers, or CPCs. CPCs are institutions that claim to provide women with fair, unbiased, and complete information about their options in the face of unplanned pregnancy; however, women who seek aid from CPCs often have religious doctrine, misinformation, and just plain lies thrust upon them.

Those who enjoy a Starbucks latte (which we, as latte liberals, all should) every now and then at the state street location have come in contact with Ann Arbor’s own CPC, Arbor Vitae. For those who have not seen the fliers scattered around campus, Arbor Vitae is a CPC that specifically targets students. They advertise their counseling services while failing to disclose their Christian bias and complete lack of abortion options. Because of this, Arbor Vitae has been the subject of much discontent among student groups in the past. Students for Choice, among other things, organized a protest last year to alert the community of the falsehoods being propagated by Arbor Vitae, but most students are still unaware of the Center’s biased agenda. While I and the other FemDems members had all heard secondhand accounts of the deception coming out of Arbor Vitae, we wanted to see for ourselves what was being said to those that look to Arbor Vitae in their time of need. After the idea of impregnating one of the FemDems was shot down, we decided on a more subtle espionage approach. And this is where Kaitlin and I become an incredibly cute couple looking for advice on birth control.

Kaitlin: As mentioned, Arbor Vitae is located in the mysterious basement below Starbucks. The small but cozy lobby was unintimidating, as was the lone receptionist who greeted us there. Inquiring as to whether or not we needed a pregnancy test seemed to be a standard part of her rehearsed initial questions. I was required to fill out a form that covered the basics (name, age, address), the extended basics (marital status, partner’s name), and the irrelevant (religious affiliation). Shortly thereafter we were introduced to the woman who appears to be in charge of most of Arbor Vitae’s affairs. We were led into a room filled with couches and chairs, clearly designed to be a relaxing setting for serious discussions. Case in point: she asked rather abruptly if we were married while we were still standing in the doorway, mere seconds after exchanging names.

It was at this point that she insisted on a one-on-one chat with me, banishing Evan back to the lobby. She asked exactly what the purpose of our visit was, to which I responded with a carefully planned answer: “We are interested in knowing our different options for birth control.” This rather simple statement was repeated at least three times, as she appeared perplexed by that particular motive. Eventually, she revealed a packet full of information about family planning and began to explain my choices.

A chart in the packet listed almost every common method of contraception, with “natural family planning” (also known as the rhythm method) at the top. She detailed the shortcomings of each method as she went down the list, citing questionable statistics and side effects I’ve personally never heard about. She returned to the top of the list to discuss the virtues of natural family planning. When she asked if I was familiar with the concept, I said that I’d only heard it referred to as a discredited method. She seemed taken aback, then told me that it’s a method that requires responsibility and self-control, but would be an incredibly reliable method once we’re married. Natural family planning is apparently a unique type of birth control that loses its effectiveness when practiced out of wedlock.

Things took an odd turn when she asked about my religious affiliation. Unsatisfied with my answer (“none”), she asked about Evan’s (“similar to my own”) and then my family (Roman Catholic). She looked relieved, then explained that there were forces besides my parents at work when I was created. This went on for a few minutes and the words “Garden of Eden” were even included at one point.

We then reunited with Evan back in the lobby. Before leaving, I received a copy of the birth control chart, a sincere blessing, and an offer to see pictures of fetuses as they develop inside the womb.

Evan & Kaitlin: We witnessed firsthand that Arbor Vitae has the bias that defines crisis pregnancy centers. While the existence of a religious or pro-life family planning center on campus is not inherently bad, we believe that its motives should be disclosed to the public. Furthermore, our main concern is the misinformation provided by Arbor Vitae, particularly when the center targets students in its advertisements which are posted on University property.

So in the spirit of a recent ordinance passed by the Baltimore City Council requiring CPCs to notify potential patients of their bias, the FemDems committee will be organizing a push to have the Ann Arbor Council do the same. All we ask of CPCs is honesty, and since they so far have not seen the value in full disclosure, the force of the law must be invoked.