Sick To My Stomach – Botched Abortion
There are some news stories that literally make me sick to my stomach when I read them. I’m no wuss…I served time in the military, I’ve been in war zones, I’ve slept in trees, and played six different sports in my lifetime. Perhaps it’s the mother in me that caused me to weep upon reading about Baby Grace and how she was beaten to death before being placed in a rubbermaid container and tossed in a river. Perhaps it’s the more compassionate Harriet that makes emotion rise up like volcanic lava when reading about certain circumstances in the news.
Even though it makes me uncomfortable to react in such a way to the news, ironically enough, I’m grateful, because that means there is something inside of me that’s still alive, and not totally desensitized to the ills that plague humanity as a whole.
If you will, allow me to digress a moment. When my son was a little smaller and would hit his head or get injured in any shape or form, I would get this churning feeling in the bottom of my stomach that would not quit until I was sure he would be all right. Now, it’s more of a foreboding…I’ll walk in a room and see a potentially injurious situation and remove the danger prior to my son invading the area.
The same feeling hit the pit of my stomach upon reading the following article. In summary, a young lady went to an abortion clinic to terminate her six month pregnancy. The doctor gave her medication to dilate her cervix and told her to return in 24 hours. She did, but the doctor was not there at the appointed time. She ended up actually giving birth to a live baby, but one of the owners of the clinic came in the room, cut the umbilical cord, put the baby in a plastic biohazard bag and threw that child in the trash.
The coroner that performed the autopsy said the baby had oxygen in her poorly developed lungs, proving that she was alive prior to half bleeding, half suffocating to death. I would love to say that my disgust and angst was towards the fact that this baby was aborted (I’m an opponent of the act); however, when reading this story, that was not the case.
My issue was not the fact that this young lady went to get an abortion. Although I disagree with abortion, to think that it does not happen is tantamount to burying my head in the sand. Nor was my issue the fact that this young lady was not properly counseled prior to being medicated for dilation (generally, abortion is only deemed safe if the mother is at 6 weeks or less gestation).
The idea that a little child could be born alive and treated with such contempt and disregard is what makes me sick to my stomach. The fact that this CHILD was “knocked onto the floor” and “allowed to bleed out” is what makes me nauseous.
Sure, the doctor made a mistake. No matter how much I hate it, his legal job was to abort the UNBORN child, not kill the little girl who had entered the world on her own, albeit prematurely. My heart goes out to a child who, quite possibly, only took one breath before it was brutally taken away. She did not have the opportunity to smile for the first time. Her privilege to see, taste, hear, touch and smell was stolen from her. Perhaps the first thing she saw was her mother’s afterbirth assaulting her body, and the first thing she heard was the deafening crinkle of the plastic bag that bound her little body up and threw her away like the daily trash.
I’m so glad she was not old enough to think for herself. If she could have, I’m sure her first thought would have been, “What did I do wrong?”
That, alone, is enough to make anyone sick to their stomach.
God bless!
~ Harriet
Harriet is a hilariously joyful married woman who resides in northeast Louisiana with her husband who is a restaurant manager. She works for a local University and along with her husband is the proud parent of a 3 year old son and a 10 year old stepson (who lives in NC).
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