Why I Am Pro-Life
Karen Swallow Prior

This is incredibly well-written and helped me to understand my own beliefs. I’ve spoken with several people who were fixated on the fact that a fetus is just a clump of cells behaving like a parasite, and therefore, shouldn’t be considered human. This was problematic to me in that I wondered how they rationalized dehumanizing a child like that, and how that played out to their view of humans after birth. After all, at the most base level, we’re just blobs of mass, 99% of which is made up of six elements: oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorus. Does that mean we should treat humans as nothing but our most basic components? Does that make adults expendable too? I’ve tried to explain this concept, that if you allow a human fetus to form and be born, it comes out as a human baby. If you let a canine fetus form and be born, it comes out as a puppy.

My faith brings up a lot of questions for me as well. Is there a soul from biological conception? If the soul leaves the body at the moment of death, it would make sense if it enters the body at the moment of life. But if that’s the case, where do the souls of these aborted humans go? Is heaven just chalk full of aborted babies then, with more added regularly? It’s easy to go down a rabbit hole when relating all this to my faith.

Regardless of what we all believe, diverse as it is, I do think that we need to understand and face the implications of what we’re saying and doing when it comes to abortion. Regardless of if we’re pro-life or pro-choice, we can’t hide behind that rationalizations that make it feel better to maim and tear apart fetuses. Scientifically, we don’t even know when they feel pain. We aren’t even definitively sure how the process of development advances in the brain. Yet us, the living, who were all conceived, and then allowed to be fully formed and birthed, are willing to take chances in a very, very big way. Because we’re not just exterminating a simple parasite. We’re extinguishing a life.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.