As originally published by National Right to Life News Today on January 13, 2014. This article has since been published by many news sites and organizations, including: The Blaze, Drudge, LifeNews and LifeSiteNews.
Sixty-two days. Today, my dear son or daughter, you are 62 days old. I say son or daughter, because, you are 62 days old in the womb today, so we don’t know a whole lot yet about you. But what we do know is this. You are ours and you are loved.
Without yet even seeing you, I feel your presence each day, and I look forward to your presence being made more aware to the world through a soon-to-be burgeoning belly and through movements that make your sister and father squeal with joy.
If you could look into our house right now, you would already find your room being prepared by your older sister, who the days until your birth just can’t pass by quickly enough for. You would see her wrapping her arms around me multiple times a day, laying her head to rest on my belly, where I can already feel all of the twinges and pulls of your growth, and kissing the spot where you lie deep within. You would also see her curled up by my side, reading books to you each morning.
For a woman who thought she knew what love was, I have been greatly schooled so far in your life. Your sister, Olivia’s, love for you is one of the truest, deepest loves that I have ever experienced, and your father and my love for you, of course, runs just as deep.
If you could look into our world right now and understand what was happening around you, I’ll be honest—some things would make you stare in wide-eyed disbelief and others would likely make you cry. Euthanasia thrives in countries like Belgium; parents must fight to have their children provided medical care; and abortion up until the point of birth in many states across the U.S. The culture of death is all around us.
Yet, if you could look into our world right now and understand what was happening around you, there are also many things that would make you stare wide-eyed in beautiful wonderment and cry tears of joy. On January 22, 2014, we will unfortunately be marking the 41st anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision that has resulted in 56 million deaths through legalized abortion, which was meant to include my own and therefore prevent your own conception, let alone, your upcoming day of birth.
As much as the Roe v. Wade decision has wreaked havoc on our nation and deeply damaged my life and the lives of my biological family, people you will once get to hear about and likely even meet, I take great joy in knowing that we are winning the war in the battle against abortion. God-willing, in your lifetime you will someday witness an end to the Roe v. Wade decision.
If you could look into our world, in just nine days you would see well over a half a million people, fellow pro-lifers like us, marching in Washington, D. C. for the March for Life, advocating for an end to abortion and commemorating the lives that have been lost and those that have been forever changed. What I wouldn’t give, my dear child, (I am choking back tears as I type this), for you to never have to know the horrible truth about abortion and what it has done to our world and to your own family.
But this terrible truth is a part of our history, and will lead you to appreciate events like the March for Life and those that fought for a culture of life to be restored to our country and world.
My perspective is unique. I am one of the survivors who were intended to add to total of 56 million lives lost. Instead I am a mother, a wife, and a dedicated pro-lifer.
I carry that knowledge that I was not meant to survive in my heart and in my spirit every day. Although there is great pain, my joy is much greater. My purpose, your purpose, as the child of a survivor of the abortion holocaust, brings me immeasurable joy, which I hope that you someday experience, too.
You, my dear child, are one of the reasons why pro-lifers will soon be gathering in Washington for the March for Life, even though it will be a long time before you understand this. I look forward to the day when I can tell you the story of marches past, and how millions upon millions of people day in and day out, fought for lives like yours and mine.