My Right Wing Views On 'Life'

Yes, I'm going to talk about this today.  (And no, Andrew Cuomo, I don't think of myself as an extremist who doesn't have a place in New York state- but really that's fine.  I'll be sure not to spend one dime in New York, even though it's the easiest place to meet with my husbands family and friends, until you are gone from office.  Just sayin')
Today is the March For Life in Washington D.C.  Many people will feel squeamish about this and probably not read this post.  That's OK.  In America we have the right to ignore other peoples viewpoints if we want to and pretend that certain things are just about what we might prefer in life and not really all that important.  Today, even though I will not actually be marching on Washington, I am choosing to share my story, for the very first time ever in any form and to anyone, on where and why I got my views on the right to life movement.   It just feels right today.
As a precocious kid, I noticed that there were oftentimes mentions of someone having to go take care of a 'problem' and my own mother had mentioned to me on several occasions of anger that she should have let that doctor 'get rid of me' when she had the chance.  Nobody ever actually uttered the word: abortion.  I have to say that the full extent of what was really going on and how it was actually a choice to end the life of their own unborn child had escaped me- probably because I was in denial and I kind of thought/hoped this all had something to do with miscarriage.
That all changed on the day that I found a goldenrod copy of my mothers own paperwork for her procedure.  I was ten and a college level reader with a 100% tested accuracy of my reading comprehension.  That paperwork settled a horror in my soul that has never left me.  I realized in that moment that the conversation we had so casually shared a week or so ago had truly been about this.  This decision that she had made and had actually had me be complacent in, by asking me if I thought it would be a good idea for her to bring another brother or sister home to live with us.
Now, if you're new to this blog you might not remember that at this time I was in the full throes of raising my sister.  I had been doing this for the last 2 and 1/2 years, since I was 8, while my mother was busy smoking dope in the bathroom for 50% of her life and then spending the other half roaming the mall looking for some retail therapy.  So yeah, you could say that my reaction was not one of support for a new baby.  I was so overwhelmed with making sure my toddler sister was fed and clothed before I left for school and hoping that she wasn't into too much trouble while mother got high all day, before I could make it back home.  I bitterly told my mother it would be crazy for her to have any more kids.
I stared at that copy from the doctors office and put two and two together; knowing just why my stepfather had finally acquiesced to getting 'fixed' and laid there on the sofa with a bag of frozen peas on his crotch while my mother slept the day away in the bedroom.  I literally threw up.
I had helped to make the decision to kill my brother.  I have always felt deeply that this unborn child would have been a brother.  I know my mother would have named him David.  The hole that was created in my heart that day will probably never be filled.  Until now, I have never uttered one word to another soul about this.
Years later, as a teenager, I witnessed my aunt who is only 2 years older than me making an absolute disaster of her life.  She was 19, already had one child and was pregnant again.  She had no job prospects, no man in her life and nothing at all going for her.  I felt for her and understood that she could not care for kids in any meaningful way and wished that she would adopt her children out to a family who could care for them.  She decided to have an abortion.  I was terrified and saddened for the child, but I never said anything.  Instead, I prayed for a miracle.
That miracle came!  It came in the form of a flat tire on the way to the clinic.  I couldn't believe it.  God had listened to me, even though I had been manipulated into being a part of 'deciding' that my own brother should die.  My aunts baby did not die.  I wish I could say that everything had been on the up and up after that, but that's simply not true.  My aunt ended up losing custody of both of her children and they did have rough lives.  Still they are living.  And that's something!
Later, during the time that I worked in a daycare center, I met a woman who had a very young daughter and was pregnant with her second child.  During this time she was diagnosed with a rare cancer.  Her doctor told her she would need to terminate her pregnancy to save herself.  This woman decided that she would not do that, even if it meant that she might die.  Others were not shy in sharing their view that she was selfish to put herself at risk when she already had a young child.  I once sat down with her and told her how much I admired her.  She said that it meant a lot to know that some people understood her.  In the end, the cancer fight was much more difficult because it was not started until after the birth of the baby, but it was successful!  This woman lived and so did her two happy and healthy children.
Finally, I will share my recent experience of a neighbor that I have gotten to know quite well.  She is homebound with anxiety issues and shocked me when she talked about having had several abortions as a young teenager, when I had only just met her.  I have come to realize that she is very haunted by this and even though she has two lovely daughters and a husband, her life is irreparably touched by this past experience.  I can't imagine what it's like to be her.  I treat her with kindness and don't tell her specifically what my beliefs on the subject are.  I don't think it would help her any.

The point to sharing all of this today is to say that I truly believe that we as human beings are better than 'choosing' to end the lives of our unborn children.  There are other ways to deal with unexpected/unwanted children.  And even though it may seem easier and quicker at the time or even somehow be seen as a women's rights issue, I can't imagine that the world is a better place for ever having gone down this path.  I also want to say that when people like me choose to share our pro-life beliefs we are not crazy extremists who are purporting a war on women.  We are people who have put a lot of thought and experience and intelligence into deciding to say that we believe in the value of all innocent human life.

Thank You God

...for releasing that poor little 5 year old boy in Alabama into the safety of his families' loving arms. 

I couldn't help but think of the 5 year old version of my own nephew as I watched the horrible situation in Alabama unfold over the last week.

I heard someone say that the little boy who was held hostage is the type of kid who loves you, even if you don't love him.  Yup, that must be why I was thinking about my nephew.

Again, thank you God.  This time, this kid was saved from an awful fate. 

I wish that every kid could be so fortunate.

Thoughts On God And A Request

Yesterday when my husband and I were going through the pre-op paperwork we came upon some stuff about a living will.  Now I'm all for people having a living will if that's what they want to do and my husband and I have a standing ruling on this sort of thing.  It goes a bit like this:  Try real hard not to let go of me too quickly or easily, but if I'm not going to be anything but a shell of myself then figure that I'm actually already gone and it's time to let me go.  Being that we're coming into this with my husband being healthy (other than 3 giant hernias and multiple abdominal defects) we're counting on the fact that this living will thing will not be needed!

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So that brings me to the fact that I don't often talk about my impressions of God and you probably wouldn't usually see detailed descriptions of my religious views around here.  But naturally things like my husband needing to be under the knife for at least 4 hours and facing a lengthy recovery afterward do tend to bring those thoughts to the forefront. 

The truth is that I don't talk a lot about my religion because I actually don't know what all I really think about it myself.  This is a very strange thing for me.  I am known for my decisiveness in my overall life and I can honestly say that it serves me pretty well.  Regret is super rare for me and going with my gut instinct has always been the most comfortable place.  And yet the religion thing evades me.  And the weirdest part is that I'm OK with that.  It feels just fine for me to live in a sort of no mans land when it comes to religion and, believe me, that's not like me on any other topic.  I ALWAYS have an opinion and ever since I've been out from under my families' thumb I'm likely to share it with you at some point!

So to give it to you in a nutshell:  I was raised Christian- sort of.  I often went to Sunday school by myself or with a neighborhood friend but my family didn't usually go.  The times when my family did go they got all 'churchy' for several months afterward immersing themselves in Christian radio and all things church and then just dropped it and acted as if that never happened after a few months.  It was a lot like my mothers yo-yo dieting. 
We did the usual Christian holidays in a pretty secular way.  I got saved- three times, mostly because I was young and didn't understand that when church people ask you if you know for sure that you are going to heaven when you die and you don't answer with a resounding "yes", then they pray with you and ask God into your heart.  Naturally I didn't tell each of them about the others before because I didn't want to hurt any feelings.  I've since gotten a backbone and would never do that now. 
As a kid, my favorite place to experience God was at my good friends Catholic church services.  I loved the beauty and tradition and it felt safe and friendly.  Although I liked the feeling in the Catholic church I never felt the need to delve deeper.  I've never been to confession.  Then as I grew older I realized that the probability of having a boatload of kids if I were to follow Catholicism fully was not going to work for me either so I eventually drifted away from that too. 
I have friends who are Jewish.  That feels more like a national identity that I am not a part of.  I know people who ascribe to have more of a Native American type of belief system.  Kind of interesting, but again I feel like an outsider to those ideas.  I have friends who love their dressed down tennis shoe wearing pastor and VERY casual funky congregation that meets in a school gym.  I would be lying if I didn't tell you those people kind of freak me out.  Although I cannot perfectly define what I do believe, I am naturally put off by atheists. 
For me I guess it goes like this:  I believe there IS a God.  I cannot perfectly define what that is, but I usually refer to God as a he.  Maybe simply because that's what I am used to.  I cannot look at the world around me and assume that it all happened by chance.  I just cannot accept that idea.  I've never felt the NEED to attend church regularly and yet I am not opposed to people who do or occasionally ending up at a church service myself.  I often express my gratitude in private prayers and try diligently not to be one of those people that only 'talks to God' when I need something.  I still celebrate Christian holidays and I do it with more of a focus on the idea of what the holiday means- rebirth or renewal for example, rather than the actual biblical story as I admit that I am usually a bit weak on the details.  I believe I am a non-devout Christian and yet I don't believe that if someone else believes differently then they are headed straight to hell (do not pass go, do not collect $200 dollars).  I feel as if we are stronger people for having a diversity of views and yet I do worry about atheists.  There I go again with my one hold out!

So with all this being said, let me ask you for this:  whatever you believe, whatever feels right for you, could you please keep my husband in your thoughts, prayers, etc. tomorrow on 5-16-12 at 12 noon Pacific Daylight Savings Time?!  This is when his surgery is set to begin.  Whatever any of us believes, I believe that we have more power together than any one of us alone.

 

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