You can’t be pro-life and pro-choice… or can you?

“Hey, friend. Just curious on your position – do you feel this should be our response as Christ Followers? I’m honestly just trying to understand everyone’s viewpoint.”

This was a message I had received after I had reposted a post from Glennon Doyle regarding the overturning of Roe v. Wade. The post read, “Comfort to every human being who feels afraid right now. I feel afraid too. It is okay to feel afraid and tender now. Soon, the anger returns, and we fight like bloody hell. First the pain, then the motherfucking rising.”

Okay, maybe “motherfucking” wasn’t very Christ-like, but sometimes I really wonder If Jesus had his own F-Bomb when he was flippin’ tables... and some tables need to be flipped around here LET. ME. TELL. YOU.

I could tell you how I was raised in a religion that believed that women “asked” for the things that happened to them by the way they dressed or carried themselves. Or how many women I personally know who have been raped or molested – some of them by their own family members.

I could share with you that I know women that have had abortions – Some regret it. Some don’t. Some think they will never be forgiven for what they did. Some didn’t have a choice. Some did have a choice. Some chose out of fear. Some chose out of necessity. And some chose simply because that is what they wanted.

I could share the stories of girls that were whisked away to “grandma’s house” or just went off the grid for about nine months and how when they returned, they were never the same.

I could also share with you about the precious lives I know of that were almost aborted, or how I financially contributed for years to an organization that tried to convince mothers to keep their unborn babies.

I could share with you the countless hours that I have spent researching this very subject or How the very core of my being says, “A life is a life is a life.” and abortion is wrong.

But unless a mile has been walked in someone else’s shoes, some things will always fall on deaf ears and hearts.

This is my story...

I grew up in a home where sex was very taboo. I didn’t get “the talk”. I wasn’t told how sex could so easily result in a pregnancy. I wasn’t taught about contraceptives. We were to remain virgins until we were married. End of story.

I was 15 and still a virgin when I was date-raped with a condom by my boyfriend. I went home that night, did not tell a soul, and moved 2,500 miles away the very next day. Three months later, I found out I was pregnant.

My family went nuts! My mom got to stick a big fat “I told you so” to my dad – she knew I should have been on birth control, and she made it extremely clear to me that she was not raising another baby. My grandmother took back the sweet sixteen necklace she had bought for my upcoming birthday – I guess teen moms don’t celebrate birthdays? My dad freaked out and became an alien for a while.

They all were divided on what I should do, too – Option 1: Marry the boy because that’s the right thing to do in “God’s eyes” (even though he raped me?), Option 2 from the “rebels” in the family: Abort, of course, because you have your whole life ahead of you and this is not how the story unfolds, or Option 3: Adoption because “abortion is an abomination” and there are couples out there that are yearning for a baby that can’t have one – plus, your baby will have a better life than a teenager can give it.

Being the rebel that I am, I chose option 4: Keep the baby all by my-damn-self!

I have shared about how my son was my saving grace and is now my best friend. He changed the trajectory of my life in the best way possible and gave me a reason to keep breathing. I gave birth to four children, and they literally are my everything! It was my story that led me to contribute to the organization that I did. Their mission was to allow mothers to hear their babies’ heartbeats, educate them on their options versus abortion, and aid with healthcare if the mother decided on keeping the baby. It’s a great cause. This is why I am pro-life.

The part that I haven’t shared is why I am also pro-choice, and proof that it is possible to be both...

When I first found out I was pregnant, I was terrified to tell my family. Although it is hard to admit, thoughts of ending my pregnancy unethically where no one would know crossed my mind more than once. I didn’t receive health care until I was almost six months pregnant. I had complications that could have caused defects if left untreated. I almost miscarried and was put on bed rest for a few weeks. I lost friends. I was treated differently by my family. I was bullied, made fun of, and was the brunt of some pretty cruel jokes. I had to quit all sports and extracurriculars so I could get a job to support my child. I missed out on school activities. My grades dropped due to exhaustion and not enough free time to keep up. I eventually dropped out of school during my sophomore year. My body changed and I had physical scars that no one warned me about. My hormones changed and I had emotions that a fifteen-year-old wasn’t ready for. I suffered from postpartum depression, just plain depression, anxiety, PTSD, and have been on suicide watch. Life was not easy for me or my son. We’ve been told that we are tougher than most, we are fighters– not everyone is built this way. This does not make us superior, but if you ask us if we could supply a means for an easier life for our daughters, we’re all in!

Now take all the hypotheticals that could have played a role in this narrative. Put your daughter, granddaughter, sister, or niece as the main character. Maybe she’s 13 – not 15. Maybe she’s not as mature as other 15-year-olds her age and thinks more like a 12-year-old. Maybe it wasn’t date rape, but something more traumatic. Maybe it was by a relative. We all like to think that something horrific like this won’t happen to us or anyone we know, but it could. It does. Every day. If there is a way to put a stop to that girl’s pain and suffering so that she can begin to heal and still be a child, you better believe I’m signing up.

Rape is real. Suicide is real. Abuse is real. Murder is real. These are real things that are happening to women that are already very much alive – these lives matter too. And when decisions are made about not just our bodies, but our daughter’s bodies and quite frankly, their mental health and possible livelihoods by men that have never experienced a single drop of what this is like, then yes, it is time for the motherfucking rising!!!

(PS) I am completely open to healthy discussions around views, organizations, and ways we can make a difference. Creating open spaces to have authentic, mutually respectful conversations is the only way we are ever going to get back to the country we once were.

Blessings on Blessings,