I am haunted by a sequence of news items I’ve been following concerning a young mother, now on trial, who got drunk and placed her infant daughter in a microwave. I’m equally as haunted by Alaska Governor Sarah Palin marching onstage for her acceptance speech after being picked by John McCain as his presidential running-mate, her whole family in tow, including her recently born son with Down Syndrome grafted to the mid-section of Palin’s 17 year old daughter, unmarried and five months pregnant herself.
After learning about Palin’s daughter’s pregnancy, some days later, I started making meanings of Governor Palin’s baby overlaid on her unborn grandchild and the baby hideously murdered in the microwave by her own mother and how different Palin and the murderer are as mothers, as human beings, and how much the murderer has in common with mothers who have had or will have abortions for convenience.
All this came fresh on the heels of a story I’d just written, based on a true account of the botched abortion of a Down baby; the story is titled “I Am,” and is scheduled for publication in Sept. 2008 in my second story collection (read “I Am” in The Story Store on this website). Usually, I send freshly minted stories out to one of the better literary journals to be published prior to appearing in another story collection, but this one was too precious to be sent out for possible rejection. For one thing, I couldn’t bear it being rejected; for another thing, I feared the reaction of educated, politically correct, liberal editors and readers. I imagined how they would squall over my attack on abortionist.
Then yesterday evening, because of all this mental and emotional accumulation of late news for and against abortion, I blurted out to my bright and shining son of 36 years how he might not have been sitting before me with the setting sun shining down our lane of pines directly on his fair, symmetrical face, those aqua eyes of his daddy’s beaming like lights.
When I became pregnant with him I had my hands full with his sisters, ages two and four. I really didn’t want or need another baby at that time but abortion was seldom heard of then and truly I wouldn’t have thought about it regardless. Not an option. That was back before most people had stooped to valuing animal life over human life. (Furthermore, let me say here, I fail to understand how some Humanists, Christian or secular, can claim to care about other humans if they don’t care about our babies.)
Anyway, early in my pregnancy my obstetrician pointed out that I’d never had German measles. I honestly had no idea what he was driving at. When it hit home, I stood from my chair in his office and then walked out the door without speaking. But I thought about it, a lot. Then God through my son spoke to me by a kick in the ribs one night, one of many to follow, to let me know that this child would be born and be a blessing to me and his dad and other loved ones.
Now he’s back on our farm, taking care of us in major ways, whether he admits it or not. And I’m so glad I didn’t suction his body out of mine, or roast him in a microwave. I thank God for this blessing I wouldn’t have known if not for His staying hand on me.
As for the Microwave Mother, it’s not for me to judge, but I say if she is found guilty and punished for her crime, those who have casually aborted their own babies should likewise by law be found guilty and punished. By God, without redemption through Jesus Christ our Lord, all will be.