Why I Could Never

In this world today people take offense to the littlest of things and nothing more so than someone standing for her beliefs. And if that belief is a Christian belief, then the hateful mocking becomes worse.

As a Christian I know why this happens. Jesus said the world would hate us because the world first hated Him. And why would the servant be better than the Master? 

One instance of this is my stance against Planned Parenthood. For a place that states that it is there for women healthcare, their main goal is the killing of the unborn, which is also known as abortion.

I won't go into the facts or sources; those can be found by anyone by using any search engine option on the internet. And I won't go into why abortion of any type is against Christian beliefs. Anyone can enter into the same search engines and find passages about how God formed us and knew us in the womb. And those scriptures will lead the person willing to learn to other verses.

What I want to talk about is why I would never and why I could never commit murder (have an abortion). 

Some people may say it's because I haven't experienced a situation that warranted an abortion; such as, rape, incest, or life threatening to the mother or baby. Do people really know another?? Don't you think there are things within a person's life that you have no idea about because it was never spoken about?

For me it was the December of 2015. Some people, mainly close friends and close family, knew about it, but I don't know if I ever told them the seriousness of what transpired.

 ......................................................................................................

Late that December night I called my husband after calling another family member who couldn't come to my aid. I waited in extreme pain, doubled over the tub in my bathroom, not able to move, as he rushed home from work at the hospital only to take me to the hospital he had left. The pain was horrible. Worse than I have ever felt. Worse than a migraine or a gallbladder attack.

Through triage and into a room, where they pumped medication in me, but the pain never subsided. A CT scan was scheduled and the urine pregnancy test was pending. When I arrived in radiology, I was immediately wheeled back to my room when the pregnancy test came back positive. 

I was elated; and yet, foreboding settled onto my heart. Why the pain? Something had to be wrong. A transvaginal ultrasound was ordered and within moments the tech was there. She took the ultrasound; the ER doctor read the results and rushed out of the room. Within moments again the OB on call came to our room.

Yes, I was pregnant. But it was an ectopic pregnancy. For those who don't know what that is: it is a serious condition where the fertilized egg doesn't make it to the uterus, but instead implants into the Fallopian tube. There is no such thing as reimplantation or moving the embryo to the uterus (maybe in the future but not in today's medical world). 

Surgery was needed. But I was crying. No, I wouldn't have surgery, not if there was a heartbeat. You see, I was far enough along, at least 6 weeks, that the embryo (baby) would have a heartbeat and a heartbeat meant it was alive. 

I was adamant. No surgery. Not while the baby was alive. I didn't care that I would die if the tube ruptured, which was about to happen. The pain was that severe because the tube was on the verge of rupturing.

The OB doctor consulted the readouts, viewed the ultrasound, and assured me, with tears in his own eyes, that the baby had already died.

I underwent surgery; scared, terrified, heartbroken.

And the tube had ruptured right as they prepared to remove it.

And while I slept through recovery, the doctor brought surgery photos out to my husband to show what had happened and that there was not viable baby. Days later I received a copy of the pathology report citing that there were no viable tissue found, in other words, the baby had died long before I felt the pain.
 .......................................................................................................

What does this story mean? 

I was willing to face death, knowing it would be my baby and I who died. I was not willing to kill my child within me just to save my life. To me, that is selfish. I would not destroy an innocent life in order to extend my own.

But what about my other children, my youngest son? They would be cared for and loved. I had dedicated them to the Lord long ago and trusted the Lord to protect them. I would never kill an innocent just to live a few more days with them, especially since our tomorrows are never promised.

God knew my stance against abortion. And even though He removed that choice from me, I did not know it at that time.

How much can I stress that I could never have an abortion? And I find it a horrible act against the most innocent of all. That is why I stand against Planned Parenthood. And if that makes me an enemy to another, makes another call me "dense", "living in a bubble", or having "one-sided logic", then that is what I will be.

I've faced that decision, and I've made the right choice. I chose life, even though that life was taken from me. Standing for a belief takes strength and determination. And I urge all Christians who truly follow Christ to do so. Never lose hope.