Life Aborted

You know how you see / hear / read certain things and they kind of linger in your mind for a while? Give off vibes and feelings that you can't shake off? Sometimes make an impact so deep that you know you'll never forget them?

Fellow blogger My Space's powerfully written, powerfully moving short story is one of those reads giving me a feeling that I haven't been able to shake off, especially since it relates to one of those things that I cannot forget.

I was in the ninth standard, close to 14 years old, when one day the entire batch of us were taken to our school auditorium. It was for yet another "awareness" talk, where a group of doctors and other trained professionals lectured us on menstruation, sex, pregnancy and other issues girls on the verge of womanhood needed to know.

We entered the auditorium and took our seats, chattering away merrily like most young girls. Our headmistress introduced the main speaker of the day, a middle-aged male doctor. All I remember of him today is that he was tall and wore glasses. He said that the session would consist of him giving a talk, us watching a short film, followed by some q & a time and the subject of the day was abortion.

He got started on the talk, and for the most part, we were quiet, although softly whispered conversations and gossip, hushed jokes and giggles, passing of notes and comments continued throughout the audience.

Then he played the film. And we all slowly shut up ...... stunned into silence. A few minutes in and some of the girls closed their eyes or put their heads down, simply unable to take any more. I watched, and kept watching even as tears burned my throat and I felt as if something were shredding my stomach to pieces.

Time has erased many of the details of the film and of the rest of the session, but what imprinted itself in my mind were the images: little bodies that had human form but no features, twitching in agony, and the most horrific of them all ...... the tiny foetus that couldn't have been bigger than my palm, lying bloodied, battered and broken.

I don't write this to gross anyone out; this is what I saw, what has stayed with me ever since and what flashes through my mind every time I see / hear / read the word 'abortion'. For me, those images reduce the whole debate on the subject to just one thing: abortion is murder.

For those who've simply been careless, or for whom a pregnancy at the time is "not convenient", or for whom, as in My Space's story, having a son is most important - you commit the cruelest sort of murder because the life you decide to take is life at its purest, most innocent and most helpless stage.

And yet, the matter isn't black and white when you consider cases where the health of the mother and/or baby is at risk, or in the worst possible scenario - where a rape victim gets pregnant. It is an unimaginably traumatic choice to make, but a choice that nevertheless must be made.

How do you decide what is right in such situations? As strongly as I feel on the subject, I have no answer here.

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P.S.: November 2nd is celebrated as All Souls' Day. The Catholic Church observes a special Mass on this day to remember and pray for the souls of all the departed that they might rest in peace. On this All Souls' Day mass, the priest also prayed for the souls of aborted children. It never occurred to me to do so before, but its not something I'll forget now.