Before I start to write what’s on my mind, I want to point out that I’m not interested in starting a debate, or a flame war.  I also don’t want to stifle others opportunity to express themselves, so if you have comments you’re welcome to share them.
So what’s the topic? Abortion and Choices.
I think that each woman should be permitted — and given the opportunity — to decide where she stands on this issue. I don’t think it’s a good idea to remove the legality of abortion; back alley abortions terrify me.  But I also know that, legal or not, I would not choose to have an abortion.  I’ve felt this way since I was a young teenager. It’s not because of any spiritual beliefs that I hold. It’s not because of where I define the start of ‘life’. Though those ideas may have otherwise played roles in my stance had there not been an overriding reason.
What is that reason? To answer that question I need to tell you a story. I don’t remember first hearing this story but it was my favourite story as a young child:
There was, a young couple who tried for several years to have kids of their own.  But they couldn’t.  So they decided to start the process of adoption.  They waited and waited and waited. Eventually the husband got a call at the office. There was a baby girl, born to a 19 year old, single mom who couldn’t care for this tiny baby herself.  This single mom wanted this tiny baby to be cared for by a family who was ready to have kids, who wanted kids, who could love her and care for her as she deserves. This tiny baby girl was waiting for a couple just like them.  The husband dropped everything. Called his wife and they made plans. He ran around telling everyone in his office. Rushing home they booked a flight and flew up to Prince George.  The nurse brought this little baby girl, 10 days old, and placed her in the couples’ arms.  It was time for this tiny baby to be burped, so the husband gave it a try, but this baby was so small that he just tap tap tapped on this baby’s back — he was afraid he’d break her. The nurse just smiled, took the baby girl back, gave her a good strong ‘thump, thump’ until the baby let out a strong ‘BURP’.  At first, the hospital didn’t want to release the baby to this couple, simply because the baby had an eye infection. Fortunately, this couple had a cousin who was an opthamologist so the baby was released into their care.   Flying home, they had a seat between them where the tiny baby girl was placed and where she could hold on to both their fingers.  When they got home, their family was waiting: aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. This baby girl’s family.
That baby girl was me. The young couple: they’re my parents. I don’t remember not knowing this story, as a child I may not have understood fully what it meant, but I felt loved. Special. Chosen.  As I grew older, I understood that it was a different way of forming a family, not the usual. But that didn’t matter. I was special, chosen, wanted by my parents.  They are my parents, my family. My real family. My family connection is about love and choice, there may not be the “biology”, but it’s real and it’s my family. I love them. Dearly.  When I was 3 we got my ‘baby’ brother. That was my other favourite story to hear as a child. But that’s his story to tell, so I will let him tell that story.
This story of how my life began has had a profound affect on my life. It was that crossroad in my life. It was an initial defining event in my life that shaped who I am today. I find I’m continuing to learn what that means. Furthering my understanding of how that affects me, who I am, who I will become and even my core personality.
One profound way it’s affected me goes back to when I was in high school and I’d heard rumours of a girl having an abortion. I realized then where I stood on that issue. Regardless of spirituality, or any of the standard arguments, the reality is that I was born to a teenage single mother.   Yes, abortion wasn’t legal (as far as I know) back in the day — but it definitely happened, and frequently. It was an option. Yet she chose to give me life.  Indeed, this choice was the first profound impact on my life, the first crossroad. Giving me life, allowing the pregnancy to progress.
I realized back when I was a young teenager, that I had a great deal of respect for that choice and it struck me very firmly that as much as it may be difficult to walk that path, if ever I was faced with that decision, that I too would choose life. I could not choose abortion.  As was done for me, so I would do.  This, fortunately, is not a decision I have had to face.  I want it to be known too, I will always stand by any girl friend and their choices in this area; this is simply my choice.
And these choices, back before I was ever aware… how they continue to impact me. In ways I don’t yet understand.