Friday, July 30, 2010

The Grandchild I Never Knew

Abortion – it’s an ugly term. It has a deservedly harsh connotation to it, conveying an untimely ending and something gone horribly wrong.


My son and daughter-in-law had to make a decision to terminate their pregnancy recently, a pregnancy nearly four months along. They chose to do it, although in reality there was no choice. But it was still incredibly difficult.


Their baby – my grandchild – had a rare and fatal congenital birth defect called Sirenomelia, otherwise known as Mermaid Syndrome. Due to a vascular malfunction, the baby’s legs were fused together. The baby had no bladder, no kidneys, and no chance of surviving. The defect occurs once in about every 100,000 births.


The pain this caused my son and his wife, who very much wanted this second child, is indescribable. You cannot possibly fathom the depths of their despair unless you have been in a similar position. And while nowhere near as bad, the pain of having to watch our children go through this is something my wife and I pray we never have to experience again.


Our kids handled their situation with all the class, dignity and responsibility human beings can be expected to muster. We are so proud, even as our hearts break for them. Their strength and devotion to one another and their two-year-old son is the stuff of legends.


But their ordeal was made even more unnecessarily awful by the politics and social controversy surrounding the abortion issue. On one of the worst days of their lives, they became victims again – this time at the hands of those trying to do God’s work while in fact doing just the opposite.


Although my daughter-in-law was treated at a major Boston hospital, the time-sensitive nature of the procedure necessitated it be done at an affiliated establishment. After she and my son mustered the necessary courage and emotional strength to get where they had to go, they were met by something they had not considered in their grief – abortion protestors.


Two women were picketing outside the establishment, carrying signs and “communicating” with women walking in the door. One carried a sign of religious symbolism. As my son and his wife tried to enter the building where they would lose the baby they already loved so much, they were approached by the women.


“You’re killing your unborn baby!’ was the remark they would remember most as they walked past. They were both furious and devastated, but held their tempers and concentrated on what needed to be done. But once my daughter-in-law was in surgery, my son decided to take on the protestors.


In a calm but firm tone, he told them of his wife’s condition. How they had accosted her at the most vulnerable point in her life. How they had hurled accusations when they had no idea of the circumstances. How they claimed to be protecting, yet seemed more intent on hurting. And better yet, he recorded the entire conversation on his cell phone and posted it on his internet blog.


These particular protestors care about the unborn, but apparently are not concerned with those who have already come into the world. They made no attempt to discover the circumstances and just assumed this was a couple ending an unwanted pregnancy. To them, my kids were simply collateral damage in an ongoing war – the price to be paid for later success.


This column is not about a woman’s right to choose, although I have my own opinions on that matter. It is about the culture of hatred and disrespect that people today foster when they single-mindedly focus on one goal to the exclusion of nearly all else. It is about allowing the end to justify the means.


I am so proud of my son, and perhaps even more proud of his wife. At a time of great personal turmoil, they did not just retreat inside their own grief – though no one would have blamed them.


Rather, they cared enough to take the time to explain to these people how their actions can destroy others. How their words can scar forever. How nothing is ever as clear or as simple as it seems.


I love them dearly, and I will never forget the lessons they have taught us all.