This past Wednesday, one of my academic groups met for seminar to listen to our speaker, the director of the Division of Maternal Fetal Medicine at University of Rochester Medical Center.

The program coordinators had spoken excitedly to me and my peers regarding this particular presentation, suggesting that we prepare ourselves for uncomfortable material and riveting discussion. As one might infer from our speaker's title, she deals routinely with mothers and other family members attempting to reach a decision on whether or not to terminate a pregnancy, a topic wrought with pain, controversy, and misconceptions. After presenting us with a brief history of women's reproductive health and rights - a shocking lesson, to speak lightly - she began to describe a wide array of scenarios whose summation most closely resembled her ultimate closing comment: "Life is cruel." No one needs to approach every situation with cynicism to know, to some degree, that a life filled with the dynamic creatures that are human beings begets pain, and the patients whom she remembered and portrayed certainly did. She spoke of both scenarios in which she and the patient did and did not agree, but patients in each situation still struggled with their authority.

As I heard from a telling Facebook post a few months ago from a former CIA member, “Everyone believes that they are the ‘good guy.’” I think that this truth has much relevance to the discussion of abortion. Just as no one wakes up with the intention of “doing evil,” I do not think that anyone wants to accept the position of authority over the life of a developing organism. Some people find the decision easier than do others, yes, but a dialogue always produces that decision. Pragmatism, morality, religion, finance, love, and guilt all swirl around the flask within someone’s mind when approaching this subject; each has a voice in the internal discussion. Furthermore, physicians like our speaker, along with the patient’s family or surrounding community, can provide input to the external discussion, further informing the patient or proxy’s choice. After listening to our speaker, I realized that this kind of decision is not a hypothesis, but a conclusion.

As a prospective biochemistry major, I think experimentally and scientifically when analyzing new material in my lecture classes and when writing lab reports, and related terminology helps me to clarify. The mother or proxy enters the dialogue with the hypothesis, or what she or he thinks might be best, and then collects data during the conversation. Finally, after analyzing the data through deeper consideration of others’ input and, perhaps, adjunct discussions, the patient makes a decision as a scientist would draw a conclusion. I am not writing this to advocate for a pro-life or pro-choice standpoint, but rather to draw attention to the fact that the verily foolish thing to do is to insinuate that someone who has made an incredibly hard decision in a seemingly “wrong” manner has done so without consideration. If that were true, the decision would not be difficult.

I call on people, including myself, to seek active participation in conversation regarding decisions that, while unfortunate, must be addressed. Everyone will face such a dilemma during his or her lifetime and even more frequently encounter loved ones in similar situations. If people come upon a fork in the road, it is not my place to tell them in which direction they should travel. I cannot and should not make others’ decisions because this replaces discussion with imperatives. However, as their friend, relative, or romantic partner, I desire to give them data, to put in my “two cents” as an offering, not as an imposition. As any experimental scientist knows, increasing the number of data through more trials gives results that better reflect the truth. Even if they react negatively to my idea, this reaction still tells them more of what it is that they truly believe to be right.

The collective input and resultant internal dialogue eventually coalesces into a choice, however unpleasant. Those who do not succumb to silence in the morbidity of the situation and actually bring their two cents to the roundtable contribute to the decision-maker’s peace with retrospection. An infinitely creative number of horrors and judgments that human beings should not have to but nonetheless must endure and execute exist as part of this game of life. With the knowledge that these positions of regrettable authority are not simply probability but rather eventuality, should we not offer what we can to those who experience them? Upon whom can they call when their internal dialogue is insufficient?

We should live knowing that we would answer that call.