It was very interesting to hear my 17-year-old son say to me…
“I believe that life starts from the moment of conception”
And while on the surface it may seem as if my first-born son and I sit at opposite sides of the table, regarding this delicate topic, the content of the subject matter was strong enough to break me out of my self-imposed blogging hiatus. If you’ve written a blog for any length of time you realise much of the content becomes recycled, and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but my blog must thrive on a genuine desire to authentically connect with an audience…
If a casual or regular reader is going to take their most valued resource of “time” and read my content, at the very least I should write like the title of the 1988 Anita Baker classic soul album and be “Giving you that best that I’ve got.”
There is a magnificent form, known as “female body” which has the phenomenal ability to nurture and bring forth human life. As a father of three, I can tell you with some authority the role of a man in the process has value, but the fact is when it comes to the development of new life the role and contribution of women effortlessly outweighs the contribution made by their male counterparts.
I don’t want to repeat myself too much here but if you require any further details regarding the essential role of a woman and their superior, unmatched biological, physical and emotional capacity, feel free to read a previous post I wrote called Women are Gods (and the clue is in the title)
In an age where “sharing” is a way of life, I’m still trying to figure out where to draw the line…however I’ve thought about the issue long enough and feel I can explore this delicate topic with a level of skill, dexterity and sophistication that would make Cristiano Ronaldo feel like a non-league footballer.
I’ve never felt bold enough to talk about a situation that resulted in the abortion of my unborn child. Part of me felt it wasn’t quite my experience to share, but as age imparts time and distance from past events, it is important to take ownership of my actions (or should I say inaction?) although I confess my maturity levels were running on empty at the time.
It was the late 90’s and I had just finished a 12-hour shift at work. I arrived on the cusp of midnight, to my then girlfriend’s small studio flat in South London expecting my usual greeting of dazzling light from her smile, instead, I was greeted with a partially open door on the latch. I walked through the kitchen into the lounge area and saw my ex-girlfriend facing toward the window and in a tone sweltering with frustration, sorrow and anger…I heard the words…
“I’ve aborted our baby”
It’s difficult to recall exactly what I felt at the time, but it was a surreal cocktail of confusion, upset, sadness and relief. Language seemed inadequate, so I held her close, unable to offer nothing more than inconsolable comfort. I was 18 and although the law legally acknowledged me as an adult, I lacked the depth of wisdom to move beyond my limited understanding and if a situation didn’t fit neatly into my directionless plans, I wanted no part of it.
The negative momentum was too strong and our relationship just couldn’t handle the weight. My ex-girlfriend’s love mutated into a growing resentment toward me because I was the man partially responsible for one of the most gut-wrenching actions she would ever undertake…not to mention my thought process regarding the situation was very logical and matter of fact.
If I could classify my approach, I would say I was “surface-sensitive” I said the right words and carried out the right actions, but there was no real soulful intent behind my words…and not because I didn’t care. It was just that my life experience wasn’t equipt to deal with a situation of such emotional resonance and impact.
My ex eventually entered another relationship determined never to repeat the mistakes she experienced with me…and birthed a beautiful son. My own lifes journey would eventually bring forth three beautiful biological children of my own…yet none of these four specific, additional lives exist if my ex and I decided to have a child when I was 18.
On reflection, I have occasionally wondered “What if I could have made it work?” But hypothetical situations do nothing to impact or improve the actual reality I live and unfortunately only provide an unnecessary distraction at best.
Writing from my experience does not place me in a position of moral authority. Are men (outside of those in the medical profession) entitled a 50/50 opinion on issues relating to abortion? Are miscarriages more socially palatable because they are an act of nature and not intent? Where does contraception fall into this equation? Why do some people feel an unborn child has rights, but if that child is female and develops into a fully grown adult, some of those choices dissipate?
I respect the rights of women, yet I am not a woman, my opinions are not directly connected to the biological thoughts, potential and capabilities of my body…but I wanted to share this experience because not all children grow up in a nurturing environment funded by Disney, there is a very complex simplicity to the world, which means some issues are so nuanced they’ll never generate an absolute answer but only more questions.
I really don’t care if you sit on the side of pro-life or pro-choice because both sides value life. One group values the potential rights of the unborn child and another group values the existing rights of the woman. I don’t actually see the two sides as opposing if we accept there is no easy choice and apply more compassionate thinking…and just maybe…you could actually find two distinct voices that can work in harmony?
Until next time.