The right to choose

On my nightstand, I have a pile of those colorful rubber bracelets that everyone wears, the ones supporting various causes. I have the pink one for breast cancer awareness. There's one that says, "Think Blue: November 4, 2008" (and we did!). I have a green one -- CHALLENGE -- supporting the Challenged Athletes Foundation, which I got at the Amputee Coalition of America conference last year. And then there's a white one that reads, simply, CHOICE. That one supports a woman's right to choose.

This topic has always hit home for me; not for any obvious reason. I think it comes more from my father, which is funny, because he's a very opinionated Republican. (Not that he's ever told me his view on abortion, but he tends to agree with party lines, and, well...) But my father has always encouraged me to do whatever I wanted to do (which is why I'm spoiled), and not to feel that there was anything I couldn't do, especially not because I'm a woman. And so the idea that my right to choose the best course of action for myself and for my own health could be compromised is unacceptable.

Although I've always supported a woman's right to choose, I do not support abortion as birth control. If you can't keep your legs closed -- or be smart enough to protect against the obvious things that might happen when you don't -- then, obviously, you could get pregnant. If you were as afraid of that possibility as you should be (if you don't want, can't afford, can't handle a baby), then there are several different means of birth control available (and, uh, abstinence?) to ensure that doesn't happen.

That being said, my opinion is just that -- an opinion -- and still does not entitle me to pass judgment on any woman who feels she has no where else to turn. Can you imagine being in that situation? In a loveless relationship, with a baby on the way; or with no money to feed yourself, much less a growing child; or forever scarred by carrying a baby for nine (10) months and feeling it kick and move inside you, just to hand it off to someone else? How can I tell another woman that it is better for her to give up the baby for adoption, rather than have a doctor perform a procedure to terminate the pregnancy? That is probably the most personal decision a woman could ever make, and is based on many factors, none of which is any of my, or anyone else's, business.

And for women and young girls who are, God forbid, raped or victims of incest (which, really, is also rape) -- it shouldn't matter in what trimester the pregnancy is discovered, or what the laws are in the state where they live. How could you look a young girl in the face and tell her that she has to birth a child? That she has to deal with that? Don't you think she'll be dealing with the horrible thing that happened to her or the consequences of her actions for the rest of her life? Why make it even harder?

The reason for this topic is that, this morning, I read this NY Times op-ed piece about the abortion debate and the murder of Dr. George Tiller, a physician who performed late-term abortions. I heard about this when it happened, but haven't read into it. I haven't been able to. I'm pregnant. I'm carrying this life inside me that is more important to me than anything else I have ever known. I can't imagine how I would recover if anything happened to this precious baby.

Does that change my opinion of abortion? For me, yes it does. I have always wanted to make a family, and once Bill and I decided that we wanted one together, it became a priority. At that point, it changed from "I could get pregnant if I have unprotected sex" to "I pray that God blesses us with a child." When we found out I was pregnant, it wasn't a fetus -- it was our baby, even at just several weeks. The idea of "terminating" this pregnancy is something I could never accept, and that's why we didn't pursue any intense genetic testing. This is our baby, in sickness and in health.

But I'm in a different place in my life. Fortunately, I've never faced a situation where I had to decide if abortion was an option for me, but I'm sure there were times when I would have. And if my doctor came to me right now and said it was medically necessary to terminate the pregnancy ... well, I can't even think about that, and I pray it doesn't happen. But I can't know now what I would do.

And that's the point of my whole rant here: You can't pass judgment -- or laws -- about something you can't understand. And until you're in the situation -- meaning that particular person's life, with that particular person's considerations -- you should not be saying it's right or it's wrong. This doctor helped so many women who felt helpless. Those who have spoken out against his death have said that he did great things for these women. How did murdering him prove anything at all, except that people become entirely too passionate about matters that don't concern them?

Disclaimer: Bill and I do not necessarily agree when it comes to abortion, so just because I'm posting this, doesn't mean that he feels the same way. Since this is "our" blog, technically, I wanted to put that out there for everyone.