It seems the abortion issue still draws much ire and discontent in our society. There are articles in newspapers nearly every day punching home the fact that Roe vs. Wade still needs to be scrutinized, analyzed, adjusted and/or eliminated in the eyes of many.
In a LTE in today's Robertson County Times, a woman laments the innocent lives lost to abortion.
In a recent Google search, South Dakota legislators, today, introduced "a sweeping bill" that its supporters hope will lead to a legal challenge of Roe vs. Wade. The bill would allow exceptions for rape and incest with DNA evidence, making it slightly less rigid than the bill passed last year that contained an exception only to save the life of a woman.
In Utah, today, the House Panel passed a bill sponsored by Rep. Paul Ray (R), that bans abortion. It's not the first time this has happened in Utah. In the early 1990s, Utah passed an abortion ban that went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court and cost the taxpayers more than one million dollars to defend. The law never went into effect and was struck down as unconstitutional.
SCOTUS ruled on Roe vs. Wade on January 22, 1973, and the decision hasn't been out of the public eye since. Why? I believe it comes down to morality and what's "right" and "wrong" in our minds and in the minds of our legislators. Many of the people "against" abortion feel that it is murder, pure and simple. An act of convenience, borne of lust and sin; nothing more than a convenient way to eliminate and hide from public view your lustful lack of self control. Many of the people who are "for" abortion feel that it is a necessary surgical option that, when chosen, is done for a variety of reasons; the best interest of the woman having the abortion being one of the main reasons.
My thoughts are that Roe vs. Wade should stand, in all 50 states. My reasons why are illustrated below.
I hadn't thought of Mrs. V. in many years, far too long. She passed away in the mid 80s and life took me a long way from the suburb that I grew up in. I read a poignant article several days ago that brought long forgotten memories flooding back.
Mrs. V. and I became friends in the years that she lived next door to us. She was my sitter when my mother began working, in my late elementary school years. She taught me how to make "meat pie" and how to play a wicked game of canasta. As time passed, I saw less and less of her as I entered my teens when friends, jobs, and life became bigger and bigger priorities. And although I didn't see her as often over those years, she was always there. She danced at my wedding reception and made my children home-made toys when they were small. And although she's gone now, the wisdom she imparted on me in the time I knew her has become a part of the person I've grown into.
When I was nineteen, I found myself pregnant and unmarried. Being raised in a strict Catholic household, I can't even begin to illustrate how bad this situation was. I was still living in my parents' home and had just gotten my first real job, working in the corporate offices of a major multi-national corporation.
In-home pregnancy tests weren't developed yet and I made 3 trips in 3 consecutive months to the Planned Parenthood located in the building next to the office building where I worked before my suspicions were confirmed. The first month I was tested, the results came back negative and I, of course breathed a huge sigh of relief. Oddly enough though, still no menses. The following month I went back and was retested. Another negative result, but again, still no cycle. Hmm . . .??? By the third month, I requested a blood test rather than the urine test, which came back positive. Okay, what do I do now, already being three months along?
I struggled hard trying to weigh my options. Having the child? Well, if I was going to do this, it would be alone. (Long story. Don't ask, please. Suffice to say that things happen . . .) Adoption? Well, my aunt and uncle wanted children badly and couldn't seem to conceive. Abortion? Maybe. I really needed someone to talk to about this. But, for as private and shy as I am, I didn't talk to anyone about it. My friends were busy with their own lives (and who wanted a pregnant friend hanging around when the good times were rolling?) and my good, Catholic parents had decided that I was the pariah of the family (someone's got to be the black sheep, right?) and decided that isolating me and not speaking to me unless absolutely necessary was the best course of action for bringing such shame into our household. A few months passed and I still hadn't decided how I wanted to handle this pregnancy. One day I came in from work and much to my surprise, my mother reluctantly spoke to me. She told me that when I had some time, Mrs. V. wanted to talk to me.
I didn't know what to expect. I'd always liked Mrs. V., but over these last months, I found people I thought my whole life to be nice, not being so nice or kind. I decided to go over to Mrs. V.'s and see if she had some time to talk right then. I knocked on her door, and as always, she greeted me with a warm smile and a hug. She invited me in, poured me a glass of iced tea and we sat at her kitchen table. She asked me how I was feeling and asked me what my plans were for the baby. I immediately began to cry and told her I had no idea. She took my right hand in both of hers and with tears in her pastel blue eyes said that she wanted to tell me a story.
And she told me how she met Mr. V. It was the mid 1920s and Mrs. V. was then a young "Miss" in her late teens. Mr. V. was the widowed father of her best friend and 20 years her elder. And, as life doesn't follow any set rules or patterns, the then "Miss" V. found herself pregnant, carrying Mr. V.'s child. With tears streaming down her soft, porcelain cheeks, she told me of how Mr. V was a well respected, religious, conservative man; a man of position in their small rural community and how an affair with someone so young, much less carrying his illegitimate child, would damage not only his position in the community, but his livelihood and standing in the church. And so, they decided to terminate the pregnancy. She didn't go into all the details. She didn't have to, the look of heartache and pain on her tenderhearted, weathered face told me all I needed to know. After several years passed and "Miss" V. came to a more respectable age, Mr. V. and she married. They shared many happy years together and she bore him three more children. She and her best friend, now her step daughter, remained close throughout their lives.
However, she told me, the baby she aborted never left her thoughts, even then in her mid 70s. She said that, while she didn't regret what she did, she still remembered the pain and horror of the procedure, how much blood she'd lost, and how close to dying she'd come. She said that she'd never fully forgiven herself and questioned whether or not God would ever forgive her. She wondered, these 50+ years later, if she'd made the right choice. She prayed every night that the aborted baby would forgive her. She said that there were times when she felt guilty for the years of happiness she shared with Mr. V. She said that she felt that they were undeserved because of the decision she'd made so many years ago.
This is why, she told me, that she was glad that the Roe vs. Wade decision had been handed down. And that women today (late 1970s) facing such a difficult decision, could at least make them knowing that if they chose abortion, that it would be performed under sanitary medical conditions and guidelines and not in the same fashion that she'd had hers. She said that decisions like these were hard enough to make without fearing death, sterility, or severe infection as some of the more common consequences. She advised me to search my heart and make my decision based on what would be best for myself and the child I was carrying and not to let anyone else influence my decision. She said, "This is your life, Dreaming. We only get one. Make the best choices you can; no one knows better than you what's best for you."
And that's what I did. I made the best decision for myself. My son is now grown and has a family of his own. I married a man who gave my son his surname, raised him and loved him as his own son. I consider myself blessed. I'm not saying my choice would be best for anyone other than myself. I believe we all know what's best for us and that we should all be able to make the best choices for ourselves.
Roe vs. Wade allows for that. Those of us making these decisions are your mothers, your spouses, your sisters, your daughters, your relatives, and your friends. Nearly 15 years ago, I was made privy to the fact that my grandmother aided my aunt in ending her unwanted pregnancy in the 1930s. It supposedly didn't involved a procedure of any kind, but putting to use a "natural home remedy" taught to my grandmother in Europe, prior to her coming to the U.S. Whatever it was (I don't know, nor do I want to), it worked. Does this make my late grandmother or late aunt bad people or worse? I don't think so. It didn't change my views of them at all. I loved them then and I love them still.
We make the best decisions we can for ourselves and those we love, whether or not others view them right or wrong. Abortions are going to take place, whether legally or illegally. Life just happens that way. Please keep them legal and safe. Speaking solely for myself, not having an abortion was no easy choice. I'm sure for many, but not all, having one is no easy choice either. In still other cases, the choice comes more easily. Whatever one's choice is, every option should be kept viable and convenient. IMHO, having and keeping abortions legal, safe, and conveniently available is a necessity. Thank you, Mrs. V., for helping me to see this such a long time ago; I'm truly grateful.
