Having That Conversation….

15Dec11

How easy it is to stay in our comfort zone of friends, family, topics of conversation etc where we are not challenged in our beliefs.  Abortion and other  related life issues can be difficult to bring up and the fear of coming across as weird or judgemental of women with crisis pregnancies can urge us to stick to safe topics.

I came across this story on an American blog today and it made me think how important it is that we have those conversations with people who perhaps haven’t thought about abortion, disability or the morning after pill?  This story is great in showing how much influence we may have with those around us.

I knew Sadie had become a Catholic Army wife, and I was prepared for the mini-van, the car seats, and the munchkins, but not for the pro-life bumper stickers.

Later that night, after the kids were in bed and I had imbibed some Jack Daniels and whooped her butt at Lord of the Rings Trivial Pursuit, I said to Sadie, “What’s with the pro-life bumper stickers? I mean, come on. I know you’re Catholic and all, but haven’t you gone a little bit overboard?”

Sadie replied with something I had not known. She told me she’d always been pro-life.

“I thought you were a feminist,” I said.

She answered, “I am.”

“Then how can you not support a woman’s right to choose?”

I don’t remember exactly how Sadie walked me through the pro-life argument. I know what she didn’t do, and that’s invoke religion or God in any way. At the time I would have described myself as an agnostic pantheist, so I would have immediately rejected such language.

After about an hour of back and forth, I knew I was had. I couldn’t argue with her anymore. Every talking point I had, she had shredded with logic and knowledge. But I was still wavering.

During the course of our conversation, she kept alluding to photos and what a large part they played in helping someone understand what abortion is. Finally — and this is important — I asked to see them.

She showed them to me, and I had a completely different reaction than the one I’d had when confronted with the accidental website, or protesters bearing signs. My reaction before had not been horror at the dead baby, but anger at the pro-lifer for making me look at it. I thought it was “disrespectful of the dead,” and somehow glossed over how disrespectful it was to cause that death.

But this time, I had just had my mind and heart opened. I had slowly over the course of an hour been made to hear the truth, and now I was ready to see it.

I looked at the photos, and I had a visceral reaction. No words formed. But something inside me, something simple and human, said, “That is not okay.” I knew that what I was looking at was a dead human being. I knew it.

At that moment, I was pro-life.

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