I don’t do politics. Like at all. My husband loves it and follows all of it and gets extremely annoyed when I ask who I’m supposed to vote for. (But he still tells me!). I can’t stand listening to the ya-yaing and I really don’t trust what any of them have to say. So there’s my cynicism.
But there is one issue that seems to have become one of THE issues this political season that I can’t help but be passionate about. To me, the debate of life vs. choice is not political, it is not about a republican thing, it is not just about argument. It’s about life. It’s about millions of little lives who don’t get a chance. It is about my life.
Thirty-fourish years ago I was born in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I don’t know the whole story, but my understanding is that my biological mother was a young, college student. She determined that she could not raise a child. She made a choice. And she chose to give me up for adoption. Here is where another couple enters the story. A couple who desperately wanted baby, but couldn’t have one. A couple whose lives changed forever with one phone call. And I was raised in a home where I got to hear about Jesus. A home of lots of love and lots of dysfunction (as all are in some form or another). In other words, normal.
I am grateful for that biological family that chose life.
I can’t fully understand the pain and fear and feeling of self-preservation that might come to a woman who had no intent on being a mama. But as I am unexpectedly expecting my third, I can understand just a tiny bit. But here’s what I also know. At just seven weeks I could see this little one’s heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. At 9 weeks I could hear his/her heartbeat even thought it was “too early”. This is a baby. A tiny little life that God has a plan for. He makes no accidents. It is not an issue of my body. My body is just the home right now for a separate little life. As I am sick and tired and grumpy, I am physically reminded that it is not about me. It is about a growing little person inside of me who is a miracle even if (especially if?) we didn’t plan this miracle. And we are excited and have overcome our shock. But even if we couldn’t get there, this baby is still precious to the Creator.
I’ve read opinions recently from people who argue that children born into terrible situations would be better off having never been born. I think those people have not seen what I’ve seen. I’ve seen and heard and experienced some pretty crummy life stories of kids. From third world countries, to severe special needs, to terrible American parents. And I honestly have never said that it would have been better for that child to have never been born. Why? Because they still laugh. Because they still love. Because they still have hope. God has a plan for each little life.
Thank you for accommodating my rant. I don’t expect to change the mind of anyone who read this with a differing opinion. I suppose I just wanted to add my small voice. The voice of a mama, a kidmin, and one who was given the choice of life.