I’ve read with compassion and concern the responses of many of my close friends and family members to the overturning of Roe v. Wade. I realize that the Supreme Court’s recent decision has injected fear, uncertainty, sadness, and anger into the hearts and minds of many even as it’s made others joyful. I’m sorry for that. But I also know that it’s not so cut and dried as the special interests on either side would make it sound.
I understand that there will be many who will now have to look to their states for a decision on whether they’ll be able to terminate their pregnancies. I also understand that some women will die as a result of undergoing illegal abortions. I willingly stipulate these things up front so that you understand I’m not unaware or dismissive of these things. These break my heart too.
But my heart is broken for aborted children who haven’t had the chance to live. I’m broken-hearted for me too. What I hear you saying is that you would be ok if I had never been born – that you would protest and you would drive my mom to a clinic to abort me. Me. Your friend. Your relative. Your neighbor. Your coworker. Me. Teri.
Would you, could you really?
I was born in 1956 when my mother moved from Oregon to California to give birth and give me up for adoption. Being adopted hasn’t been a piece of cake, but I much prefer that to the alternative.
Every aborted child had the potential to be a friend, relative, neighbor, and coworker. Within him or her may have been a cure for Alzheimers or cancer. He or she might have been a soul mate for your child. Exceptional or ordinary, we’ll never know.
But let’s bring it back to me. I like to think I’ve contributed to this planet in some small measure. I’m a taxpayer, a voter, and have been a county supervisor, a writer, a daughter, mother, wife, and grandmother. On balance I believe my life has been more than worth the year my birth mother sacrificed to give me a start. I think my mom would agree.
So, I’m not writing this to change your mind or shame you. I had two abortions over forty years ago and deeply regret determining the fates and futures of the children I aborted. My right to choose denied their right to live.
All I wanted to say tonight is that you know someone to whom life matters. A lot. If knowing this about me angers you, then go ahead and de-friend, rant, or whatever. I’ll miss you. But before you go, I wanted you to know how I feel too. Because it’s tearing me up.