Some will read this and wonder why they should care about the life story of a random writer from Maine, a story that I don’t even like to think about. The best answer I can give is that it’s not about me. It’s about “Baby 11.6” and the millions of other stories that will remain untold.
Since January 22, 1973, discussions of abortion tend to be focused on it as an “issue.” Society has debated the legality of the Supreme Court’s decision, and the morality of abortion. Far too often, the abortion debate descends into a morass of anger, euphemism, defensiveness, and derivative issues. We argue about terms and definitions, spout slogans, and wave signs in an attempt to persuade one another and change laws. The legality and morality of abortion are important questions, but focusing on the arguments has allowed society to look away from the reality of abortion, a reality that has been brought into brutal focus with the release of the Planned Parenthood videos.
The reality of abortion is that it ends lives. Not just the life of the child who has been aborted, but the lives of the children they might have had. This is not a theoretical question for me. I can definitively say that if my mother had made the decision to abort me, my children would not exist. Period. Full stop. This is not an opinion that comes out of my political or religious beliefs—it’s a statement of simple logic. My two daughters, ages 9 and 7, and their little brother, age 4, are alive because of a choice my mother made long before they were born.