August 20th has always been a special day in my life. It is the day my Father was born. However, in December it became an even more special day for me. It was the day my 5th child was supposed to be born. I have written about my little tie breaker before. I still do not entirely know why it was the case, but I was more excited about the birth of this little bundle of joy than I was with any of my other children. I think for the 1st time in my life, my wife was pregnant at a time when I felt perfectly happy, content and equipped to bring another baby into this world.
I was super stoked to tell my children. Dawn and I thought of a special way to announce to them that they would have a little sibling in the home. We bought a bassinet (and I kept it hidden all the month of December, not an easy task I assure you). When all the presents were opened we told them that they had one more to open and that they had to go downstairs to open it. We took them downstairs, and permitted them to unwrap the bassinet. I was so happy and thrilled to announce the pregnancy this way.
The happiness was short lived. The day after Christmas something went wrong. By the end of the weekend my wife has a miscarriage. I was devastated. Correction. I am devastated. It broke me. In some ways I have yet to recover. Sure, I write my lesson. I play with my kids. I go running. I do other things. I haven’t given up on life. But, when “tiebreaker” died a part of me died with him/her. It is a part of me I will never get back. On Thursday, August 20th, I will call my father and wish him a happy birthday. And I will call upon my Heavenly Father asking him to give me strength to get them the day.
As this day has drawn closer, my ears have paid particularly close attention to the Planned Parenthood situation. In case you live under a rock, Planned Parenthood has been accused of selling the body parts of aborted babies. They have been careful not to destroy the “tissue” when performing the abortion because the “tissue” has resale value. It bothers me on some many levels to read of these horror stories. I cringe every time I hear the word tissue or fetus as they describe these procedures. As a father who has lost two children to a miscarriage I have never thought of my unborn child as a fetus. I have never thought of my unborn child as a tissue. They were my children. They were two persons I loved. They were two persons I have lost.
I know that our world believes in woman’s rights. I do too. I believe that all woman and all men are created equally. I believe that just because one person is older than another it doesn’t mean that person’s life is more valuable. I believe that every woman (including those that are part of the mass genocide called abortion) have the right to have their precious voices heard. I believe that every woman, including the unborn, have the right to life. I believe that every woman, including those in the wombs of those that don’t want to have a baby right now, has the right to by happy. And I don’t believe that anyone, no matter how “not ready” they are has the right to deprive a human being the right to live. It is not about telling a woman what she has to do with her reproductive organs. It is about telling a woman what she cannot do to another living human being… boy or girl. You can call it a fetus, you can call it abortion, but it doesn’t change what it is. Just because you call the tail a leg, it doesn’t make it a leg. Just because you don’t call it murder, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t killing one of God’s precious children.