Thursday, March 26, 2009

Why I hate abortion.

I have been holding off on this topic for a long time, but I think it is time to go full-force: My husband could have (and, by some standards, should have) been aborted.

Christine was 17 when she found out she was pregnant. She went to a very strict Catholic school, and he was the eldest of 5 brothers. He was already heavily dependent on alcohol and he was probably a drug user by that point, too. Three strikes, already: she was too young to deal with the consequences of parenthood, he was a role model for his younger brothers, and the baby might be deformed from his dad's drug and alcohol usage. Not to mention that in the early 80's, no one was standing outside of Planned Parenthood and preaching about God's love for the unborn - there wasn't enough publicity about abortion yet. My own mom took a friend to an abortion clinic in the late 70's because she had no clue what it really was (they left as soon as they understood). It makes me sick to think that this is the exact circumstance that pro-choice activists would promote as the ideal situation for a woman to 'take control of her own body' and have an abortion. What sick-o conservative would want this poor teenage woman to have to deal with the consequences of one night of fun?
Me. I would. Chris and Paul Sr. married and had two more children. It didn't end up all rosy - Paul Sr. was a great daddy, but he still had to battle his addictions; and when they divorced a few years later Chris had to support the children on her own. The consequences of that 'one night of fun' still impact the family today, every day. Paul passed away a few years ago from complications of a lifetime of alcohol abuse. Chris still deals with side-affects from the daily stress of her 20's.
Paul II is the best thing that ever happened to me. My mother-in-law and I don't have the best relationship in the world, but I am daily indebted to her for choosing life. If you are considering abortion as a way to end your problems, please - don't just think about your life. Think about your growing child's life. Think about all the thousands of people he or she will touch as he or she grows up. Think about your child's children, and how happy you will be to see them sitting on their daddy's knee in 30 years.

Think about the people like me, and how radically different my life would be if that scared 17 year old girl hadn't chosen life in the spring of '82.