Unloved

The politics, morality, even the sentimentality of abortion have been debated and played out over the years. People have drawn lines in the sand: pro life vs. pro choice. Each group judging the other. 

Born into a Catholic household and grew up with a grandmother who went to church 3 times a week and prayed the rosary every day, I was raised to value the sanctity of life from its inception. Because of that, I had an unfavorable view and strong feelings against women who aborted their unborn babies because bringing them out into the world would “ruin” their chances at a good life. Yes, I stood on my soapbox a lot way back when I was younger and definitely naive. 

Maturity, experience, and friends from different cultural and religious backgrounds have opened my eyes to the truth that even though sin is sin, our reception and response to it is seldom black and white. Whereas, I would try my hardest not to put myself in situations where I would make a mistake I would have to live with for the rest of my days, that’s not the standard that most people have. But who am I to impose my morality on them?

A friend had an abortion a few years ago. She knew my stand on the issue but she also knew that I don't sit on the judgment seat of her life and that I would listen to her without condemnation. As she poured her heart out, I could've easily shoved Bible verses down her throat; but what would that have accomplished?

My heart breaks for the patter of tiny feet walking on floorboards and musical giggles we would never hear, the creamy softness of tiny hands we would never feel, the delicious angel's breath we would never smell, and the trusting brown eyes we would never gaze upon. Unhugged. Unkissed. Unloved. 

Equally heart wrenching is the seemingly blase way people talk about abortion and their personal experiences with nary a hint of indecision or remorse. There is, however, one demographic that I could sympathize with: parents who know their unborn child has a rare genetic disease that come with severe disabilities. The thought of their child suffering intolerable physical, emotional, and psychological pain, not to mention social rejection if they were brought into the world could prompt them to do the unthinkable. I work with such children and every day I wrestle with thoughts of how powerless I am to make their lives better, wonder if they prefer to not have been born at all, and ask God why He allows such pain. But I always go back to this truth: Who am I to question The Almighty Whose ways and thoughts are higher than mine?

Abortion will always be an ongoing issue of contention especially now that politicians and lawmakers are once again moving the goalposts. Who are fighting for these babies? Is there anyone left standing?