National Sanctity of Human Life

Considering Sanctity of Human Life Day is typically in late January, I thought I'd post something a little different. Enjoy.

-Goggy

Choice of the Future

A month before Marc’s eighteenth birthday his parents gave him the bad news. They called him into the family room and sat him down in Father’s favorite chair across from them. “Son,” Mom began, “ Ever since we found out I was pregnant with you, your father and I hoped we’d be good parents. If not good, then at least decent enough – better than most of the low-lifes we meet at the many fundraisers we attend and contribute to.

“However, on the eve of you becoming a legal adult, your father and I have had to face a harsh reality – that we aren’t ready to be parents. So, we’ve decided that we’re going to have to have an abortion.”

Marc squinted his eyes. Then he shifted in the chair. “I don’t understand. What do you mean you’re going to have an abortion? Are you pregnant?”

“Oh heavens no!” Mother laughed. Marc thought she laughed a bit too loudly. “No, Son, we’re aborting you.”

Marc held up his hands. “Wait a minute. I don’t understand. You can’t abort me. I’m seventeen.”

“Right, Son. That’s why now is our last chance. Once you turn eighteen it won’t be legal.”

“What do you mean it’s legal?” Marc’s voice started to rise a bit.

Dad chimed in. “Well, Son, you didn’t think we were going to take you to one of those back woods clinics, did you?”

Mother laughed again. “That just wouldn’t be safe, now would it?” she said. “For God’s sake, Marc, we’ve got a little more money than that.”

Marc turned to his dad. “How can you let this happen?”

“Well, Son, it’s your mother’s body. It’s her choice.”

“But it isn’t her body!” Marc shouted. “It’s my body!”

“Now, Son,” Mother said, “there’s no need to get hysterical, these procedures are done all the time. We have the right to choose.”

Marc rubbed his forehead. “This can’t be happening. This can’t…How…How is this possible? How is this legal?”

His father adjusted his bifocals. “It became legal a decade or so ago when Congress signed that bill legalizing any abortions prior to the seventy-fifth trimester. Don’t you remember seeing all those teenagers marching around Washington with those Right to Life t-shirts? There were all those posters of older teens with the slogan “I just turned eighteen. I’m so glad my mom chose life” and “It’s a collegiate, not a choice.”

Marc looked down and examined his folded hands in his lap. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Son,” Dad said, “‘deserve’ has nothing to do with it.”

“That’s right,” Mom said. “We just have to think about our future. There’s so much more we want to accomplish – hobbies, vacations, your father’s going to get Lasik, and I'm considering going back for his doctorate.”

“But I won’t interfere with any of that. You could send me away to boarding school like Todd.”
Mom and Dad gave each other an embarrassing glance. Then, Mom patted Dad’s knee. “Go ahead. You can tell him,” she said.

Dad took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Marc,” he finally said, “we didn’t send Todd to boarding school.”

“What? You told me you sent him to a boarding school where they don’t allow phones or letters…oh God.” Marc covered his face with his hands. “How could you do that to him?”

“Now don’t take it so bad,” Dad said. “It’s a medical fact that the procedure doesn’t hurt before the 75th trimester. Humans are really no more than a mass of cells. Besides, we took the money we would spend on your college and remodeled the upstairs.”

“Speaking of the doctor,” Mom chimed in, “we’d better get going. The doctor is expecting us in an hour. Did you remember to stop by the ATM?”

“Yes, I remembered,” Dad said. “Well, son, don’t worry about your things. You won’t be needing anything.”