T HE ROUND or even notify your parents if you’re under 18. The only thing stopping you is money and any moral hang-ups you might have. I’ve never sat down and had a debate with someone who was pro-life, but I don’t imagine them saying anything worthwhile on the subject; I don’t want to hear about God, I don’t want to hear those fake stories of first trimester fetuses being removed and living, and while a lot of other people may (rightfully!) feel emotionally distraught about their termination, that has nothing. To do. With me. Still, I can almost see why people are against abortions. I guess it’s like killing a baby, if that baby was the size of a tadpole and completely functionless. I’m reminded of that thought experiment where a person is given a live infant in one hand and a petri dish of a fertilized egg in another and asked which one they would rather drop. If the baby and the egg are the same thing to them, they shouldn’t be able to make the choice, but I have a hard time believing even the most fervent pro-lifer would drop a living, breathing baby over some cells in a bowl of agar. +++ Before I bought the pregnancy test from Walgreens, and even before I noticed throwing up in the morning wasn’t from last night’s dinner, I knew I would never go through with an unplanned pregnancy. I know I’m not ready to raise a child, and I assume the would-be father isn’t ready either, so for an outside party to tell me I have to do so seems a little silly. I’m sure they’re trying to protect the potential human in my uterus, but why do they care more about a prospective life more than the one I’m already living? And if they worry so much about this future baby, what are they going to do to help me raise a child I neither want nor am equipped to handle? +++ I’m so defensive about my abortion because I feel that anyone who opposes my decision is trying to tell me they know how I should live my life better than I do, and that one easily correctable mistake should be met with a lifelong punishment. Still, it’s not unreasonable for someone to think I’m so adamant about defending my choice because I felt bad about taking a “life,” though I must insist that I did not care about that embryo when I stumbled off the operating table or even when I was offered that guilt-ridden white rose. And I certainly don’t care about it now, even if it would have been seven months old.
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