Destroying Human Life: An Economic Policy

It is tempting I guess for some to make the assumption that every child from an unplanned pregnancy will end up on state welfare. And maybe it's tempting to believe that there isn't enough for all of us anyway. I have had a co-worker say to me in regards to abortion "you can't have it both ways" meaning, the fact that I am pro-life contradicts his assumption that I am "anti-welfare".

But I don't believe that the case is that every child from an unplanned pregnancy will end up on state welfare. Nearly the first child born to every extended member of my family that I know of were unplanned, and yet not one of us has ever been on welfare.

It's also curious to me that it seems that so many American couples looking to adopt are going overseas to China and Russia to adopt. Why is that? Is it that there are not enough babies here to adopt? Certainly a couple who can afford to adopt can keep an adopted child off the welfare dole.

How about looking at this another way? How about making the assumption that a child is not just a sponge sucking the resources out of a community, but instead an investment in the future of a community. If we look at this from a strictly economic view, children born in 1988 are just now entering the age (assuming college, etc) of working and paying taxes. At a rate of 1.2 million babies aborted per year since 1973, we are missing 18,000,000 tax payers right now! That's a lot of dough!

Children born since 1993 - 2006 do need community resources, they are called teachers. But, since we're missing more than 14,000,000 students right now, we are missing jobs for 50,000 teachers.

I'm no economist, there are far more schooled and intelligent people than I. But just a little googling can refute that destroying human life, at any stage is a sound economic policy. Not to mention the moral implications. I believe there is room enough for all of us. I believe we are selling ourselves terribly short by killing off our future.

Here's an article from someone far more schooled than me, and he has documentation to back up his facts. Check it out, keep and open mind. Give life a chance, for all of our sakes.
http://www.americanthinker.com/2008/12/obamas_abortion_socialism.html

I am the Grandmother of an aborted Baby

I started this blog in September 2011 shortly after my son confessed to me that his girlfriend aborted their baby back in 2009. He kept it from me all that time because he knew how badly it would hurt me and he wanted to protect me. I believe that he just couldn't stand the grief alone anymore, and so he finally told me. "It's really messed me up." I know son, I know how it can mess you up.

I cried, a lot. Not just for my Grandchild, but for my son and his (now ex) girlfriend. A life time of pain and regret will follow them, along with the wondering, what would he be like if he were here today.

I never felt anger at either of them, just absolute and profound sadness. I also felt responsibility that not speaking out more strongly to prevent this from happening to the next generation. And I feel regret that I was not given the opportunity to love and support both my son and his girlfriend, but I understand that. I did not give the opportunity to my parents either, more regret.

I read this blog this morning, it touched me. I really respect this woman Kelly Clinger and I think she is very brave. Now I see where she gets it from and I am inspired:

http://www.lifenews.com/2011/11/07/abortion-through-a-grandmothers-eyes-forgiveness-healing/

The Way - Emilio Estevez, Martin Sheen

There are far better movie reviewers than I, so I will leave a full review of the movie to the experts at: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1441912/

What I want to write about is a single scene in the movie in which Sarah, the angry, cynical fellow pilgrim, confesses to Tom (Martin Sheen), the source of her angst.

The scene is set in which Tom drops something and when both he and Sarah reach for it, a tussle starts and Sarah hauls back and violently punches Tom. It was shocking and confusing.

But later Sarah explains she was in a bad marriage, with an abusive husband. She was pregnant with a baby girl, and she terminated so her husband wouldn't have two of them to beat up. "Sometimes I hear my baby cry, which is funny since she never got to take her first breath." The scene was heart wrenching.

But the most amazing thing was Tom's response: "I'm sorry about your baby." I was stunned! That is something that is just never ever said to a post abortive woman.

We don't normally get sympathy for our loss, because of our "choice". Many of us abort our children out of fear, ignorance of alternatives and yes, as in my case, complete selfishness. But what we don't get is much empathy for our regret. To me this is a scene I've longed to have play out in real life. Acknowledgement and sorrow of who was truly lost to me and maybe, just maybe if you can....a little empathy for my sorrow and regret.

The movie was great, and I highly recommend it. Beautiful scenery, complex relationships and pilgrims trying to find their way through a world that is difficult for most of us pilgrims.

All Souls

I believe that when we enter and leave the world, at that moment be must be as close to God as possible while we are here. I believe that because of my experience.

It is so easy for children to believe in God. I have heard young children make very profound statements of faith that have simply blown me away!

Something happens to us the longer we are here. Cynicism and worldly logic creeps in and slowly pulls us away from what we know to be true. I have seen this happen with my living children. Once believing and knowing God in their heart of hearts, now as young adults who have been bumped and bruised by the world, God seems like a far off fantasy, a distant childhood imaginary friend.

I feel like I have spent a significant portion of my adult life trying to find God for myself. The most obvious times when God was present, was when my children were in my womb. Unfortunately, I didn't know or recognize Him with the first one, and so I killed Him.

The Church calls them the Holy Innocents. They experience a violent death long before they have had a chance to enter the world and be pulled away from God. The world rejects them and sends them directly back to God, carrying a message to Him that we reject Him too.

I often wonder what heaven is like with all of those Holy Innocents there. There are no tears in heaven, maybe because it is filled with souls like these who are pure and fully aware of the presence of God. And since they never left His awareness, never really separated from Him, they must be very close to Him. I have been praying for my little ones lost, but maybe I should be asking them to pray for me...

Oh Holy Innocents, close to God, rejected by the world, pray for me and for all of us, they we may join you in purity of soul, heart and mind. Amen.

JONAH ~ A Mother’s Story

I’ll never know for sure, but I always felt like the baby was a boy and I’ve named him Jonah.  My baby had a soul and was a person so I will never refer to him as “it”. In this writing, I will refer to this baby as him, he or Jonah as he deserves to be remembered with dignity.

The Old Testament story of Jonah is an image of the God of second chances, mercy and forgiveness. It is also the story of a disobedient and reluctant prophet and I can really relate to that. And so the name of my baby, the one who never had a chance to hear God’s word on earth, but went directly back to heaven in the year 1984. In the 20^th anniversary of Jonah’s death, I write a testimonial to the horror of abortion, the spiritual, and emotional pain that goes with it. This is an attempt to prevent any young girl from experiencing the same spiritual and emotional trauma.

I am as reluctant as Jonah. I don’t want to tell this story, but I have to. I fear the repercussions and the rejection from telling this story. But, more strongly I fear not telling the story. It occurred to me that each generation is duty bound to pass their experiences on to future generations, so they can learn from the stories and mistakes. So they can be warned and not repeat mistakes. Isn’t that what many of the Old Testament stories are about? And if the failings of the great Kings can be written down for future generations to learn from, then my story can too.

After many years of struggling with the political issue of abortion, I have come to the conclusion that this is not a political issue it is a spiritual one. I have decided to never become involved with the politics because as long as women choose to seek abortion, someone will be there to perform whether it is legally or illegally. So, the hearts of women must be changed and that is my mission. And so if you are reading this, please open your heart to me and I will pour mine out to you.

In 1984, I was seventeen years old. I was reckless, promiscuous, and self-destructive on almost every level. In the beginning of my senior year of high school I felt that I was pregnant. This is important for you to understand, because I didn’t miss a period, I’ve never really been very good at keeping track of them anyway. It is important for you to understand is that I felt the presence of another – immediately, so when you hear the lie that a fetus is just a mass of tissue, I can tell you from experience, I have been pregnant three times and every time I felt it before I knew it. I felt the soul of another person inside me.

I looked in the yellow pages, found an abortion clinic, had a pregnancy test, borrowed money and had the abortion. If that sounds mechanical, it is supposed to because that is exactly how much thought I gave to this.

The spiritual crisis had started before the abortion, because I felt Jonah’s soul inside me and I ignored him. I knew he was there and I refused to acknowledge him. It would begin to haunt me during the abortion and then for the next 20 years.

Let me tell you what I remember about the abortion. First, being only 17, I lied about my age, name, address – everything. No one talked to me about anything; I didn’t seek any information either. I just wanted the pregnancy to be over quickly. But, I don’t remember seeing anything in the abortion clinic about being pregnant, and what that meant exactly. I mean what does a fetus look like at each period of gestation, what is formed. There was certainly no information about a crisis pregnancy and what options there were.

During the abortion itself, I cried out as soon as I felt Jonah’s body being ripped out from mine. I felt him leave me and I remember that very clearly. I was lying there and the abortionist was sucking out my womb and he said, “Stop crying! It’s too late now.” It was an order and a lament. How many times had this man heard a woman cry out as he tore her baby from her womb? How difficult it must have been for him to sleep at night. I wonder if the cries of women haunt him. That is all this man ever said to me through out the entire abortion. After the abortion I lied down on a cot that was similar to the one in the school nurses office. In a little while the nurse gave me antibiotics and I drove myself home.

Then I slowly suffered in silence.

Let me tell you about how aborting Jonah affected my early marriage and childbirth. My husband and I were married in May and I found out I was pregnant in July. What should have been a very happy announcement, I was told by the nurse in the military hospital in this fashion: “You are pregnant and if you want to take care of it you’ll have to do it off base.” My heart sunk as she presented me with a very unwanted and unwelcome option. There was no way that I was going to end this life inside me and how dare she even suggest it! I was angry when I should have been elated.

In March, my beautiful and I really mean stunningly beautiful baby boy was born. Absolutely perfect, absolutely wonderful in every way. I remember when I saw him the very first time; I was convinced without a doubt that there is a God. As I looked at this beautiful child I was profoundly grateful for a second chance and at the same time profoundly distressed about aborting Jonah.

I went to the nearest Catholic Church and found a Sister of what order I do not know. I cried and I confessed and I begged for forgiveness. The Sister said to me, “God has already forgiven you, what right have you to not forgive yourself?” Good question, Sister, twenty years later still unanswered.

Sixteen months after my son, I gave birth to my daughter and this would be the last time that I would carry another human soul in my womb. I love my children, all three of them. I desperately miss one of them. After carrying a child and seeing what they become – the reality of a past abortion is unbearable. I have to live everyday with the knowledge that I ended Jonah’s life. Think about that. A mother’s nature is to protect her children and yet, I ended my child’s life!  Do not believe the lie that abortion is the easy way out of a crisis pregnancy.

Today is the worst of it, because today I have to confess what I did twenty years ago to my two living children. I’m scared of how this will affect them. I’m scared of how this will affect our relationship. Will they look at me differently from now on?

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Postscript: I wrote this testimony in 2004. As an update, I participated in a Rachel's Vineyard Retreat. http://www.rachelsvineyard.org/

 I shouldn't have waited 20 years to do that, during the retreat, I was finally able to forgive and make peace with myself. The pain and regret never do go away, but there is peace in forgiveness.  Also, please note that I wrote this seven years ago, and it has taken me this long to work up the courage to begin to speak up about my experience. This is difficult, painful and I'm still afraid. I have also changed my political leanings on this issue. I vote Pro-Life. I write my elected officials. I do still hold the belief though, that only when hearts and minds are changed, will the horror of abortion be eradicated. 

What it's like "in there"

In speaking with my daughter today, she encouraged me that my story, specifically the lack of care and concern by the medical staff, that I received during my abortion, was what changed her mind definitively.

Good. So here’s that part of my story.

I suspected I was pregnant. I can’t say that I skipped a period, as I didn’t keep track of them that well. I pulled out the yellow pages (it was 1984) looked under “abortion” and went for a “free” pregnancy test. (44-year-old brain translates “loss leader” 17-year -old brain didn’t quite think that way.)

The test was positive, and cash was needed.

I borrowed the cash and went back a week later, on a Saturday. My parents were out of town. I drove myself to the clinic, used a fake name, lied about my age. I didn’t know the laws, but I didn’t want any trouble. I was thankful – no questions were asked. No ID needed, no medical history provided.

In the procedure room, I was not scared; this was just like having a wart removed to me. No big deal. 

I only have one memory of the “procedure”, at some point during the suction, I actually felt the life leave my body, and I became aware of what I had done. I cried out. The doctor said, “Quit crying! It’s too late now.” So I did, I quit crying. This was my “choice” what right did I have to cry?

I went into a recovery room that was like a school nurse’s office. I was treated as if I had just given blood.

I was given some medication and sent on my way. As I had said earlier, I had driven myself. No one asked me if there was anyone to pick me up, there was no concern as to how or if I would get home safely.

I had no follow up appointment.

At 17 not having any idea of healthcare expectations, and feeling as if I deserved what I got, I never questioned this level of care.

I have some questions now:

1. Are abortionists held to even at least the same standard of care as – say orthopedic surgeons? If not, why not?
2. Why is this a cash business?
3. Are women not afforded any kind of after treatment for at physical if not emotional wounds?
4. Why was no age verification done? Why was no one concerned about how I got there and how I would get home?
5.  Of course, my parents were not informed, and as such were not afforded the opportunity to support or guide me. My pregnancy was a result of recreational sex, not rape or incest.  In retrospect, a little guidance here was in order.
6. Why are some people so adamant about supporting this travesty that they are willing to hide the facts from vulnerable women? Why can’t we see an ultrasound? Know what the fetus looks like at the point of development?

So that is the clinical side of my story. With one final note, 27 years later, I’m still crying in private. It was my “choice” after all.

180 Movie - check it out!