I thought of several cute and catchy titles for this entry and then decided this isn't a cute and catchy type of issue. One of the reasons we cannot settle this is because of people using catchy little phrases instead of facing up to reality. "Pro-Life", "Pro-Choice", "Reproductive Freedom", "Baby Killers"- NONE OF THESE TRULY DESCRIBE ANYTHING ABOUT ABORTION...
This is a very serious topic because we are talking about real human lives. When a woman wants an abortion there is one question that must go through her mind: Is the fetus a human being or not? Does it have the same rights as we do? Or is it of lesser value because it's only living as a parasite inside the mother's womb?
The point of viability is one thing that the government must set because this is where everyone seems to be having the most controversy from the medical community to the religious community to the everyday person.
I found a poem which shows how the act abortion affected a woman's life. I thought I would share it because it shows another point of view that most of us don't think about. Once a woman decides on going through with an abortion it affects her too because it's not an easy decision. She bonds with the baby during pregnancy and therefore its harder on her than anyone else can imagine. here it is:
Condensed Reality
by anonymous
You can never put a finger on how to name her. She used to be so vibrant, innocent. Now her eyes are hollow, she ghastly as hell. But all these wouldn't sum up to all she kept inside; for delivering to death the life she despised.
Her mouth opened and closed, several times, but you wouldn't hear anything, just a vague mental picture of a tiny being moving away, trying to avoid the sharp end of the road that would pierce its heart and claim the brief life it has. And then comes next the vision of her as she stared blankly on the already lifeless baby that had clung inside her bosom three months ago.
The breeze of summer came early, and the subtle heat colored her cheeks, made her skin glow. A sun goddess to behold, she took all in the live in the world.
Alluring, gay, mysterious...
She can make you believe in what you surfacely see. She looks vibrant in her forced maturity. But her eyes are hollow, empty as hell. And all these sums up now, to that life she thought she despised. But would have made her complete as a woman.
In her empty eyes she sheds the tears of regret and longing. Some nights she dream of a happy, gigling baby reaching out its chubby arms to her, babbling out the words "momma' with a toothless smile and a shrilly call. She swelled with love for it. She wrapped it in her assuring embrace when it cried and wiped the tears off its chubby face that looks so much her own.
Her mouth stays closed except for a necessary grin. But you can hear her asking, "will God ever forgive me for what I've done? How i am going to look at my unborn child's hurt and questioning look when i see her come judgment time?" You can name her anything or even nothing.
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