At just nine years old, I had learned that a family friend of mine was faced with the tough decisions that any new, expecting mother would be faced with. Except, her decisions were much, much more crucial. Instead of painting a new bedroom, she was hiding in her own. Instead of buying tiny booties and little onesies, she, herself, had been wearing the same clothes for days on end. Instead of preparing for her new baby girl, she had been faced with the choice to abort her baby in the hopes of sparing this sweet little girl from the anticipated pain she would be feeling for some, if not most, of her first few years on this earth after the diagnoses of a rare condition. After many exhausting months, drifting in and out of decision after decision, consulting with different doctors, herself, and spending time with God, the young mother decided to give her baby the chance: the chance at life. And when this special baby was born, she was born a perfect and healthy little girl; ready to defeat her odds and celebrate her new life.
For me, the decision seemed easy: of course, let the baby live. But I, myself, at just nine years old, could not possibly understand the feelings of a young mother on the verge of a mental breakdown after learning that the life that was growing inside of her could possible be living an impaired and painful life upon birth. Though, what I did know, was that even though a rare condition could have possibly made the child's life hard, I knew that the effects that the other decision would have on the mother would be much, much worse. When "what if?" is sitting over your head, no comfort can be found: not even when you search day and night for it.
The decision to abort a baby is not taken lightly, just as so many of us think it is. Most of the time, new mothers and fathers struggle with the decision out of fear for the hard life ahead of their expected son or daughter. As many people believe, it is not the fact that expecting parents do not want their baby, it is that they do not want to see their baby struggle. Though, what I have come to found is that a chance to live could not only mean success, it could mean health, and a long life of it.
After seeing my great grandmother, just a few days ago, celebrate her 99th birthday, after years and years of outstanding health, I could not help but come to know life at its most pure sense. The things my great grandmother has seen, the places she has been, the love that she has shared, the laughs that she has given...to me, this was what being pro-life was all about. It wasn't about calling out others for their differences in beliefs, or forcing others to believe the same, or even fighting with others who didn't agree; being pro-life is more than just anti-abortion, anti-euthanasia, etc., being pro-life meant that I could celebrate the life that surrounded me, and revel in the fact that there is so much to live for.
Of course, I still do fight for the rights of those who cannot fight for themselves, because I feel as though it should be understood that the simple fact that all life, no matter in the form of a microscopic cell or a fully grown human body, should be treated as though it is as sacred as the hands that created it, because it is.
