In the struggle for some kind of life in every abortion story one out of every two people loses. A child dies each time.
Why? seems to matter.
The big google-able voices on this subject are funded by rabidly pro-abortion concessions. You will forgive me if I do not trust their stats or their lugubrious attempts to make the death of a child sound like a mani-pedi.
One thing they say strikes me–1 in 3 women have had an abortion.
Just as with all abuse of children, the stories of abortion are often the stories shared in community. But we keep them our secrets because we have no adequate forum for telling them.
These are my community’s stories (a fraction, I am sure, of the whole)–
The college student who aborts her child under pressure from her boyfriend who is a cadet at a military academy.
The wife of a professional who aborts their third child because “two is enough.”
The young woman (who was herself adopted) who decides to have a late-term abortion because the baby may be a Downs child.
The teenager who lives in a no-abortion country who flies to the US to abort a child.
The woman who is pressured to abort because her child has a 3% chance of a medical condition. (Multiply this story by at least 4.)
A young professional who lives in a country with family planning laws. She aborts to avoid legal penalties.
The woman who is in her early forties, married, but surprised by a late-in-life pregnancy. She just doesn’t want a child in her early forties…
The untold story of abortion is a story about value and pressure and time. It is a story about how valuable the life of a child is, and it is a story of what it costs to remove that child.
Each aborted child leaves a George Bailey-esque hole in the life of their community.
Why would we sanction that?
And how could we face God if we did?