The words I write here are not for the people on the very many sides of the late-term abortion debate–the ones who mistake themselves as the heroes and the champions.
The words I write here are for those who are trapped in the middle. The ones whose stories are being used to make a point.
These words are for the ones who are being shouted at and about, but without ever really being acknowledged.
The words I write here are for the mothers who have faced the most impossible of decisions–how long do I carry my child? How long do I carry life and death and suffering in my womb?
They are the only heroes here.
To those mothers, I want to say this–You are so damn brave.
I have sat on the sidelines this week, my heart screaming out for all of you. Regardless of what you chose or when you chose it, I choose to support you.
I do not require justifications or reasons for your choice, because I trust you. I trust your maternal instincts.
Most of all, I trust the love you have for your baby.
I know that love. It’s a love that can withstand anything. It is a love that goes beyond this world and often, beyond our comprehension.
That love you have for your baby did not die and it will not die. I know you loved them and I know you always will.
Amidst the noise and the rhetoric–I want you to know that I see you.
Even though you’re probably sitting back and waiting for the anger and the shouting and the accusations to pass by–I see you there. And, I am sorry.
For those who chose to carry to term and for those who have yet to make that decision–I’m sorry that people underestimate the actual amount of bravery it takes to walk around with shattered dreams inside of you.
I’m sorry that people don’t know that you have made the impossible decision to keep going even when you know the end dances so near.
For those who chose to release your child from pain and suffering and for those who have yet to make that decision–I’m sorry that people underestimate the actual amount of bravery it takes to say goodbye before you’re ever ready.
I’m sorry that people don’t know that you’ve made the impossible decision to keep going even when you made the choice to let go.
You are all just so damn brave.
You must know that. I need you to know that. Please.
Because when all the shouting quiets down and the signs of protest and celebration are lowered, you will still be there.
You will have to keep going in a world that will never truly understand what you have been through. A world that will never be able to understand unless they have been in your situation.
A world so busy trying to make a point it forgets to acknowledge that you are so damn brave.