On the Front Lines for Women

The book, however, aims to make a larger point: "I do not tell my story because it is unique. On the contrary, I share it because it is so common."

As in the days before Roe v. Wade , reproductive rights in the United States are once again in jeopardy, Michelman writes. Not surprisingly, she faults President Bush, the Republican-controlled Congress, a reconfigured Supreme Court and the influential evangelical right. Less expected is the candid -- and accurate -- assessment that her own side deserves blame as well.

Since Clinton's election in 1992, many abortion rights supporters have "relaxed their guard and retreated into apathy," Michelman writes. Later, she acknowledges tensions in the movement, from mismanagement of the debate over the late-term abortion procedure known by critics as "partial birth" to the contradictions in feminist support for former senators Charles S. Robb (D-Va.) and Bob Packwood (R-Ore.) after sexual improprieties came to light.

But the missteps and internal rifts are dispensed with too tidily; there is no road map for the next generation of activists. More important, it is Michelman's personal odyssey -- the far more compelling drama -- that unfortunately gets short shrift.

"I qualified for a monthly stipend, food stamps and Medicaid," she writes in a textbook tone. "The idea that benefits are lavish is laughable. . . . I remain grateful that our government provides at least a minimal safety net."

Although it took Michelman nearly three decades to tell her devout Roman Catholic parents of her abortion, the powerful scene is condensed to 6 1/2 pages.

For most of the 278 pages, Michelman's daughters are largely absent or reduced to snippets. Lisa is the flute player, Anya the sports star and Tasha the horsewoman. What, one wonders, did these young women think of their crusading mother? Did they discuss sex, marriage and abortion? Did they urge her to find a new career after the 1993 murder of David Gunn, the Florida doctor who performed abortions?

By squeezing her internal struggles into neat, concise metaphors, Michelman deprives readers of the full emotional impact of her life story. When Lisa gives birth to her first child, both newborn and mother contract severe infections. Yet the only observation offered is that the experience was, "needless to say, a frightening start" for the pair.

In a similar manner, Michelman introduces the harrowing account of daughter Tasha's 2001 riding accident, a fall that left the young woman paralyzed. Here, too, Michelman is guarded, summarizing the medical decisions and grueling rehabilitation that followed, but withholding the mother's insights that only she can provide.

At each step in her journey, Michelman makes the link to public policy. A Parkinson's diagnosis for her second husband, Fred, enables Michelman -- and readers -- to reassess the debate over research involving embryonic stem cells. Yet again, she reveals little of the agony that surely ensues for a spouse watching her husband deteriorate before her very eyes.

But all that may be asking too much in a first book about a full life.

Connolly is a Washington Post national staff writer.