None of us can remember a time when abortion wasn't legal. January marked 30 years since the definitive case, Roe v. Wade. We can probably remember the early to mid-1990s, when abortion debates raged, and when we most likely made up our minds one way or another. The public debate since then has cooled. We may have slowly realized that the debate centered not so much on the arguments, but on the very terms of the issue themselves. For what do we call what is aborted? If we say it is a 'fetus' or "cellular tissue," then we are employing obscure, technical language to mask or outright disregard any humanity at all (much like "collateral damage"). Likewise, if we use "baby" or "child," we have already shown our hand, and revealed a commitment to the continuity of human life from beginning through birth. People on both sides either ignored or failed to recognize the impasse, and simply kept debating past one another until the point of exhaustion.
I won't try to resolve the debate here. Another subject demands attention. For in all the commotion, few have noticed the omission of a very important contributor: the woman herself. Nowhere is this clearer than with the very "Jane Doe" of Roe v. Wade, Norma McCorvey. Norma has changed her mind on abortion, and now counsels women away from it. Do any of us know why? Have we taken the time to ask?
It's easier not to, especially as a man. I found it quite easy to glibly parrot my line, "I've no right to tell a woman what to do with her own body." It cost me nothing to say, and could even reap me gain _ such "sensitivity" works well on a date with said body. A woman's welfare was not my concern. But it should have been. Had it been, I would have actually asked whether abortion, even safe and clean, was her best option. But it was far easier to give cold respect than a warm hand. Little did I know how much my "respect" would limit her freedom. There are several men in the life of a pregnant woman who are quite content to keep abortion unquestioned.
When a woman is thrust into the hallway of pregnancy, the ability to
abort closes doors quickly. Let's look at those doors. The father, if he is unwed, is likely to slam his shut. He has enjoyed, howsoever gained, the pleasures of her company. She should know (shouldn't she?) that he did not intend to be "so serious." The sensible thing is to "take care of it." We may see the door to her own father quietly close, too. Perhaps he is ashamed, or perhaps she cannot bear to even tell him. It is a private issue. Her school, or her workplace is under no obligation to offer help. It is her "problem" after all, is it not? The politician's door belongs to one more man who'd rather see her resolve "it" quietly. No need to spend effort on equal opportunity, maternity benefits, or education to be elected. He has her vote with two simple words: "reproductive rights." It is little wonder why there have been, in 30 years, as many abortions in America as AIDS infections in the world (40 million). The cold, steel light of the operating table streams from the only door left open. There will be 3,500 abortions today. To the pregnant woman, it is hardly a choice. She is alone.
Though not entirely. One tiny companion remains _ the baby. The potentially life-long friend cradled inside her. With her son or daughter the mother enjoys a relationship unparalleled in all of nature. Nowhere is there a bond more finely tuned, more deeply intimate. Not even the best of lovers can get so close. The relationship consummates on that day when the mother holds the child in her arms for the first
time. On that day of birth, the mother would be holding a baby with a heartbeat that is eight and 1/4 months old. A baby with six-month-old fingerprints, seven and 1/4 month-old fingers, and seven and 1/2 month-old hands. With seven-month-old eyelids and eight-month-old eyes. A baby with seven and 1/2 month-old brainwaves and a fully nine-month-old set of DNA, completely unique and never before seen on earth. But that day does not come.
Abortion robs the mother of that day. By methods of extreme violence, the child is wrenched from the mother. By dissolving chemicals, dismembering forceps, slicing suction tubes, or a well-placed pair of simple closed scissors. Antibiotics, anesthetics, and equipment of the past three decades may have made abortion physically safer, but by no means less violent. The child is gone. And the mother is left with the nightmares. Dreams of children and crying babies haunt many. Anniversaries concerning the never-born can be excruciating.
Stories of sexual frigidness, anger, obsession, and depression are common among those willing to share. Not many are willing to listen. The boyfriend is almost assuredly gone. The husband doesn't want to talk about it. The boss expects her at work on Monday. And her parents and friends are mostly glad it's "over." Now she is alone.
The clinic protestors turn another unsympathetic cheek in scorn. The clinic waits for her to come back _ 40 percent of the abortions every year are for repeat customers. We've failed our mothers. We've failed our women. From day one we fail them in support for unplanned and tragic pregnancies, and then fail them again, throwing them into an outer darkness of silence once they've "dealt" with their "problem."
Of course all men don't love abortion, nor are most even fond of it. But too many enjoy its benefits, its simple convenience, without caring at all for the well-being of the woman. To those who have never given much thought to this subject, who may have all along thought that by supporting abortion they were defending women rather than condemning them, I urge you to think again.
For those of us who have had an abortion _ or pressured, pushed, or paid for one _ there is a promise: it is never too late to be forgiven by the God who made you, too. But truthfully, you will never know the freedom of this forgiveness until you are willing to share your story. We all need to be honest. There are people willing to listen. I am one of them. There are many more, particularly at the several crisis pregnancy centers in our area (www.daybreakinc.org and www.pregnancycenters.org). You are not alone.
Jack Grimes is a Junior majoring in Philosophy and Peace and Justice
Studies
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