January 22, 1973, was one of the blackest days in American history. It was the day our federal government decided it was legal to murder pre-born babies. Since the decree was federal, it became the law of the land. Abortion was suddenly allowed in every state.
In the 49 years since that infamous day, it is estimated that more than 62 million tiny lives have been snuffed out. And, thus, millions of women are living with the knowledge that they have chosen to destroy their own children.
Putting on the Pressure
I wonder if abortion providers explain that reality to their clients. “Sweetheart,” they might murmur gently, “you need to remember that after this procedure, you will have to live with yourself for the rest of your life, knowing you have killed your baby.”
Nope, they’re not about to say any such thing. They’re too busy trying to convince the young mother that her baby isn’t a baby. Apparently, they say such things as, “Of course, it’s not a baby. It’s just a glob of tissue.”
Interesting. Abortion providers are also globs of tissue. They are globs of tissue, organized into organs and systems. Same for the babies. They have little hearts and brains and faces.
I wonder how many women would choose to vacuum their babies out of their bodies if they were going to have to watch the tiny fingers and toes and ears and noses swirling away through a tube.
The very idea is monstrous. But it happens every day. Vulnerable young women, facing the most difficult decision of their lives, are pressured to make a choice that will haunt them as long as they live.
Psychological Burdens
Okay, that’s an opinion. I did a bit of research about the long-lasting guilt feelings post-abortion women face. And the links at the top of Google’s search engine (presumably making them the most reliable and popular links) took me to reports saying that more women are harmed psychologically by continuing an unwanted pregnancy than by having an abortion.
That assessment makes me think somebody is lying or else today’s women are unutterably cold-hearted. I can’t imagine killing anyone. But how in the world does a woman survive with the knowledge that she has killed her own child? How can the mental and psychological cost be anything but astronomical?
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself for 49 years. Back in 1973, I used to lie awake at night, grieving for the babies who were going to die. And for the mothers who would be responsible for their deaths. And for a nation that would endorse such savagery.
Perhaps, the reports I read recently are true. Perhaps, most of the 62 million+ women who have chosen to have abortions sailed through the procedure and their subsequent lives without any deep psychological trauma.
Living with Guilt and Grief
But I’m convinced that some post-abortion women will carry their guilt and grief for a lifetime. I wonder if they ever imagine what their lost children would have looked like. How they would have acted. What they would have dreamed. What career path they would have chosen. How they might have benefited the world.
Back in those early days of wrestling with the whole abortion issue, I imagined such a woman, mourning over her lost daughter. I wrote a poem about it and called it, “Gypsy Child.”
Gypsy Child
Hair like the summer sunshine,
Dancing, tossing, slapping her face,
Frothing like wind-whipped waves
As she rolls and tumbles with a puppy’s clumsy grace.
Smile like a wistful rainbow,
Bright’ning, fading, warming my heart,
Glowing like subdued lights
As she sets out a make-believe voyage to chart.
Eyes like crystal blue lakes,
Reflecting, calm, haunting my soul,
Gazing deep into a troubled mind
As I see again my own childhood unfold.
Gypsy child, daughter of the wind,
Here and gone…please come back again.
Just once, fill my arms,
Let me feel your softness and see your charms.
Wait Child! Why always run away?
Don’t you hear me beg you to stay?
Why will you fill my heart with pain?
How can you prefer the cold and the rain?
I know…I know…you’re not sunshine and rainbows,
You’re a bleeding mass of flesh and bones and arms and toes,
I swept you out of my body like garbage, your very life to erase.
Dear God, my soul, if only I could take your place.
Sanctity of Human Life Day
If anyone – woman or man – reading this blog is carrying a “gypsy child” in your heart, I want you to know that God loves you and has forgiven you. Abortion is no worse than any other sin, and Jesus Christ died to take all our sins onto Himself. Such a claim may sound quaint and tenuous to you, but, please, ask God to show you if it’s true or not. Give Him a chance to wrap you up in His love. *
January 22 has become the annual date when many Americans recognize the sanctity of human life. We want to make it clear that all lives matter – people of every color and age – every life is precious.
And I want to say to every person who suffers from grief and/or guilt because of an abortion, Sanctity of Human Life Day is about you too. Your life is just as precious as any other life. Please, use this day to listen to God and accept His assessment of your infinite value. *
A Beautiful Proclamation
Right before he left office, President Donald Trump issued a proclamation recognizing the 2021 Sanctity of Human Life Day. His statement is exquisitely beautiful. In fact, the first paragraph is so magnificent that I will reproduce it here as my closing. The link following the paragraph will connect you with the entire proclamation, which is well worth reading.
“Every human life is a gift to the world. Whether born or unborn, young or old, healthy or sick, every person is made in the holy image of God. The Almighty Creator gives unique talents, beautiful dreams, and a great purpose to every person. On National Sanctity of Human Life Day, we celebrate the wonder of human existence and renew our resolve to build a culture of life where every person of every age is protected, valued, and cherished.”
President Trump’s Proclamation
* If you would like to receive God’s forgiveness for abortion or any other sin, please read my post, “Highway to Heaven.”
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My thanks to alteredego at pixabay for the featured image of my lovely “gypsy child.”