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Pro-life or Pro-choice?

A good many people view the world through an either-or, black-and-white lens. This is particularly true on polarizing issues like late-term abortion.

My decision to carry my broken unborn daughter to term probably paints me as a staunch pro-lifer—which I am, I guess, in the small realm that is my own body.

However, when asked where I stand on the issue of abortion, my answer is not so simple. I firmly believe that human life is sacred. I also recognize our societal tendency to marginalize the elderly and the infirm, the physically and cognitively disabled, the poor and the homeless—and pretty much anyone else whose appearance makes us uncomfortable.

I find it curious (and repulsive) that the overeager lawmakers who are so zealous in their protection of the rights of the unborn are able to cut their commitment to those babies as soon as they exit the birth canal. Their legislative concern for the health and welfare of the permanently and profoundly disabled child dries up and falls off in roughly the amount of time it takes the umbilical stump to do the same.

In the critical circumstances of a fatal prenatal diagnosis, I decided to carry on. I knew that my body was keeping my daughter alive. Unconditional love and the safe haven of my womb were the meager gifts I had to offer her. My choice between the rock and the hard place—which I made free of coercion or the intrusion of law—embodied every ounce of desperation you might expect at being stuck in such a predicament.

I made the only decision that I could make in that moment. That does not give me the right to make it for someone else. Nor does it give me the right to skewer someone for choosing a different path.

The truth is you never know what you’ll do in any given situation until you find yourself in that position. It’s easy to imagine how you’d handle it. But until you are tested, it’s impossible to know for sure.

I was blessed with an education and a background of religious belief that grounded my thoughts and informed my reasoning. I was surrounded by family and friends who were willing to face the inevitable with me. I had adequate health insurance and the financial means to fund the outcome of my choice.

Would I have made the same choice if my doctor had convinced me that my baby would suffer if I carried her to term? Or if doing so would have left my family mired in a sinkhole of debt? Or if my spouse had threatened a divorce should I continue the pregnancy?

I’d like to say yes. I’d like to believe that I would have made the exact same string of choices, but I will never know for sure.

In a case like mine, there are myriad variables that exert considerable influence throughout the decision-making process: the health of the baby, the health of the mother, the father’s opinion, the doctor’s bias on the issue, and the level of social support available to the family, to name a few.

Any one of these has the potential to cast the swing vote that changes an imagined outcome. And unless you are the hapless person at the center of the maelstrom, you have no right to judge.

Wherever you stand on the issue of late-term abortion, consider the grief-stricken parents caught in the middle. Feel the fear and anger and sorrow that color their future. Acknowledge their anguish.

And be grateful that the consequences of that unenviable position are not yours to bear.
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