THE GIRL WHO NEVER WAS

Like many others, I was shocked and dismayed by the U.S. Supreme Court’s reversal of Roe v. Wade. The country’s highest court should be immune to political agendas, and should never come close to being deemed capricious in its rulings.

How far will conservatives go? Will they insist, like China has in the past, on setting limits on the number of children we can have? Will they move to ban contraceptives? There seems to be more concern for a fetus than what happens to a baby after it’s born. The far right doesn’t care about social welfare assistance for issues like food stamps, homelessness, education, healthcare, etc.

The battle is far from over. A Utah judge blocked that state’s abortion ban, and other states should follow. Kansas, California, Kentucky, Michigan, Vermont and Montana voted to support women’s abortion rights in the midterm elections, and the Republicans fell far short of expectations in those elections. A majority of the newly registered voters were women and lower income, people most affected by Roe v. Wade. As the paradigm shifts to the side of at least some abortion rights, even among Republicans and people of faith, the pro-life movement should be open to changing their hearts and minds.

On a personal level… I firmly believe what I stated above; but I know from personal experience that difficult decisions can come with adverse consequences. Sometimes those results are fleeting; at other times they can haunt you for the rest of your life. Following is my experience with an abortion, and how it affected me.

Some years ago I met Joy, a woman who shared my love of the written word, as well as my joie de vivre. We shared our dreams with each other and began discussing a possible future together—even making plans to retire at some point to somewhere remote and beautiful, where she could write her stories, while I put mine down on canvas. We talked excitedly about taking trips afar and sailing to distant ports to seek inspiration for our endeavors.

Unfortunately, circumstances caused us to split up. Even though we were apart emotionally and geographically, I knew that I loved Joy and knew that she felt the same about me. Two months after our split, I was surprised by a call from Joy, who informed me that she was pregnant, and already being a single mother, wanted an abortion. Since she seemed flustered, I offered to make all the arrangements and pay for any costs involved in the procedure; and she accepted with gratitude.

After giving it some thought, as we drove to the clinic I told Joy that if she was agreeable, I’d love to have and raise the child with her. She gave me an emphatic “No,” so we continued on to the clinic. As we sat in the waiting area Joy seemed apprehensive, and sidled up close to me; so I put my arm around her as I assured her that everything would be fine. As we waited, I started to feel uneasy about the situation. Up to that point in my life abortion had just been a concept to me—now it was my reality. I thought about the fact that there was a potential person in the woman next to me, someone I was in love with. I felt revulsion that there might be two attempts to terminate. I turned to Joy and asked, “Are you sure about doing this?” She hesitated for a moment, then replied sadly, “I have to do it.”

As I’d feared, the procedure didn’t take; so we had to do it again. There was no question about doing so since the first attempt would have caused irreparable damage to the fetus. Joy and I both felt that we’d made a little girl, and she’d fought to live—a concept that haunts me to this day.

We went out that night and after talking it out, decided to reconcile. As I drove to the airport and took a flight home, I was happy about getting back together; but that elation was countered by the overwhelming feeling that it made the abortion even more of a tragedy.

Joy and I soon married and had a beautiful little girl. Because of the incredible relationship that blossomed between my daughter and me, I often think about what might have happened with the little girl who hadn’t been given a chance to live, love, be loved, and become the person she had the potential to be.

Although she was never born into the light, I often, in moments of quiet reverie, imagine her birth and the journey she’d take into adulthood. I often think about all the questions I would have answered for her, the things I would have taught and shown her, and the places we would have gone to together.

I envision being with her at birthday parties, holiday celebrations, school activities and on vacations. I picture myself laughing with her, teasing her, comforting her when she’s hurting physically or emotionally, and staring in awe at her as she makes new discoveries and learns all that she is capable of. As we are the sum of our experiences, she’s a part of who I am. I feel a love for her as any father would love his daughter—even though she’s not physically there.

In spite of my personal pain, I still believe that it was Joy’s decision to make. If anyone asks my opinion on the abortion issue, I’ll firmly tell them that I’m a proponent of pro-choice; but I’ll also have to tell them about the love I have for the girl who never was—and how very much I miss the times we never shared together.

“The most painful state of being is remembering the future; particularly the one you no longer have.”

—Kierkegaard