Sanctity of Life

It was the summer of 1952. The Olympics were in full swing, and I was a newly minted high school graduate. I was also 17 and about a month-and-a-half pregnant.

Neither my mother, nor my boyfriend found out until after graduation, and they didn’t seem too interested in helping me decide what to do. In fact, my mother chose to wash her hands of the entire situation and provided me nothing by way of help or comfort. We weren’t a Christian family at that time, so I didn’t even have a church family I could go to for help.

What I did have, though, was an uncle who worked hard to help me. Uncle Dick was 13 years older than me and seemed more like an older brother than an uncle. When my mother told him about my situation, he found the solution. To this day, I do not know how he found it, but near where I lived in the Chicago area, Uncle Dick came across the Florence Crittenton Home for Unwed Mothers, and I moved in immediately.

Uncle Dick also found me a position with Kemper Insurance Company, so I could earn money to help contribute to the “home.” His plan was to help me through the pregnancy as best he could. If I had come home to small-town Evanston with a child and no husband, I would have been treated like a leper. So, Uncle Dick thought the best thing to do was to give the baby up for adoption. (That the suggestion of an abortion never came up — and yes, they were being done back then — is something I definitely consider a blessing.)

He contacted an adoption agency for me — Catholic Charities, if memory serves — and I knew that when I gave birth, the baby would be turned over to them. And that is exactly what happened. On February 3, 1953, I gave birth to a healthy baby girl. I had hoped to hold her before she was given to Catholic Charities, and they even offered. For some reason, though, they never brought her in to me.

In the end, I never got to see her face; I never got to feel her warmth in my arms. I never got to hear her laugh or cry. My daughter was just … gone. I knew then that this loss would haunt me for years to come. Even now, recalling that moment, I am brought to tears.

But those tears were for me. God honored my decision, and my daughter was given to a wealthy couple who were able to love her and give her a good upbringing.

Fifty-three years would pass before God showed me His hand on this situation.

Twelve years ago, after the passing of my second husband, I began to look for my daughter. I wound up visiting only one website that had anything to do with adopted children, and I entered my personal information. Not long after that, I was contacted by Nick, a man who thought that I might be his mother. Why? Because my last name matched that of his birth mother who had given him up for adoption on Christmas Eve in 1946.

We discovered that I could not have been his mother, because I would’ve only been 12 years of age at the time he was born. However, when we started connecting notes, I began to have a very strange feeling about it, as if God had orchestrated this entire thing and connected me with this young man through my search for my daughter. I began to understand that the woman listed on his birth certificate was also my mother. I sent him my graduation photo, and he immediately sent his graduation picture back to me right next to mine. I could definitely see the resemblance. Two of my four brothers joined Nick and me in taking a DNA test. The results were positive that we were related through the maternal side of my family.

Since Nick had already started this process, he was able to give me pointers. He said that contacting the health department for the state of Illinois was the best way to connect with my daughter. Best of all, I could do it online.

Days later, the office called me to verify the birth date. I was unable to give them that, as all the papers relating to her birth and my stay at the Florence Crittenton Home were destroyed during my first marriage. Having no written documents, I could only give them an estimate.

Apparently, that was enough. Within a couple of weeks, I held a letter in my hands that left me breathless. Not only had they located my daughter, they had included her personal information; she had been searching for me as well! Now the question was, “Why?” I hesitated to contact her for fear that, rather than wanting to connect, she might only need my medical history information.

A few days later, the phone rang, and that question was answered. The voice on the other end said, “Hello Mom! This is your daughter, Betsy, and I want to thank you for giving me a chance at life.” I nearly dropped the telephone! Within a week, I was able to connect with my daughter and her husband during a trip to Las Vegas.

The rest, as they say, is history. Betsy and her family have been in my life ever since.

Do I support adoption? I certainly do — but not just for situations like mine; I support adoption for anyone who finds themselves pregnant with a child they do not want or cannot keep. If the birth mother is willing to be a part of the process, all the better for her. Mothers should be able to choose an agency that makes them the most comfortable, and people of faith should have the opportunity to work with an agency that shares their beliefs.

Beyond consenting to give up my daughter, I was not involved in her adoption. I never got to hold her, and for 53 years it left a hole in my heart. Now that hole is filled with love. To those women considering abortion, I urge you to choose adoption instead. Giving up your child — either through adoption or abortion — will leave a similar hole in your heart, but with abortion, it’s a hole that you have no hope in filling during this lifetime.

Please give them a chance at life. You won’t regret it.

Barbara J. Ferraro, State Director, Concerned Women for America of Hawaii

Thank you all so much for your participation and work submitting comments to the Department of Health and Human Services regarding the administration’s proposed Title X rule. The comment period for this rule closed on Tuesday. Just a refresher, Title X is a voluntary grant program that was enacted in the 70s to provide low income individuals with family planning services. The statute specifically says that abortion is not family planning and no funds can go toward abortion operations, but that hasn’t stopped the abortion industry from grabbing these funds and using them to prop up their abortion business. This new rule would require Title X grant recipients to detangle their abortion operations from Title X activity, better adhering to the law.

Concerned Women for America supporters were responsible for submitting thousands of comments supporting this rule; thank you!  HHS received over 200,000 comments and upon some brief preliminary investigation of our own, it appears that the majority of these comments are supportive of the rule. This was not the result we were expecting, but it is reflective of where the American people stand on taxpayer funded abortions and abortion activities. Polls continually show that about 6 in 10 Americans oppose taxpayer dollars from being used toward abortions, and that includes people who identify as pro-choice. Americans want out of the abortion business, and this proposed rule is an important step to detangle the abortion industry from government funding.

From here, HHS will review the comments and then they submit a final rule based on feedback. This will take at least a few months and then these rules will apply to future Title X grants. We hope that when grants are announced in August 2019 this rule will be implemented, and this program will no longer be used as a slush fund for the abortion industry. We do anticipate several states will sue HHS over this rule, which could delay implementation, but this rule is supported by Supreme Court precedent. In 1991 the Supreme Court upheld similar, more stringent rules, proposed by the Reagan administration in Rust v. Sullivan, and there have been no significant cases since then that would impact the precedent set by Rust.

It is unfortunate the pro-choice side had to resort to blatant lies and fear mongering in their opposition to this rule. They know that life is winning in America, and public opinion on abortion is shifting. We are a pro-life nation, and the abortion industry’s free ride on the backs of taxpayers is coming to an end.

In 1997, my mother was nineteen years old, on a path to throwing her life away, and found herself impregnated by a man she barely knew. He denied her. He denied I was his. Her parents shunned her in extreme disappointment and urged her to have an abortion, because she would be unable to care for me. My mom thought her mind was made up. Abortion. She thought it was her only option. Our nation has made it so easy for vulnerable and hurting women to walk into an abortion clinic without knowing their options. A good Samaritan spoke truth into my mom’s life and helped save my life, but the reality of how close I was to never experiencing life outside the womb is something with which I still wrestle.

As I sit at my desk reading a Teen Voguearticle titled, “Lady Parts Justice League Fights Anti-Abortion Stigma with Humor,” I can’t help but ask myself, am I living in my worst nightmare? My eyes fill with tears of frustration and anger courses through my veins as I force myself to finish reading Solange Azor’s article. I want to understand. What is the purpose and goal of the Lady Parts Justice League (LPJL)?

My conclusion: the goal is to normalize abortion at any stage and for any reason by using humor to ease the tension and emotional trauma that comes hand in hand with the hardest decision of a woman’s life.

Let’s be honest, this group is essentially saying that the murder of an unborn, innocent child is something at which everyone should laugh, just as they would a casual joke. Azor informs us that the Lady Parts Justice League (LPJL) not only believes that abortion should be legal but that it should also be widely socially accepted, regardless of the reason behind it.

One of the most common pro-choice opinions is what I refer to as the “cosmic shrug.” This is when a woman says she is “socially pro-choice and personally pro-life.” Sorry ladies, that isn’t good enough for LPJL. They want it to be so normalized that it is seen as just another routine medical procedure. LPJL uses tactics such as throwing barbecues/parties, staging counter protests, forming fake abortion clinics to draw in protesters, and memes to promote their “Vagical Mystery Tour,” which toured sixteen U.S. cities last summer. Because when someone is murdered, you should just throw a party and celebrate, right?

Abortion isn’t a joke by any definition, and to refer to it as a laughing matter disrespects not only women but all human life. No matter your stance on abortion, when a child is killed in the womb simply because they are still in the womb, it impacts the value of your life.

Abortion is the murder of a human being who has rights and potential. When a child outside the womb is murdered, there is an uproar in society. People demand the highest punishment and feel great sympathy for the family. How is it any different if the child is living in his/her mother’s womb? We wouldn’t dare laugh at a woman who miscarried when six months pregnant, so why are we making it a point to laugh at an unborn child’s life being taken away for any reason?

It would have been so easy for my mother to go to an abortion clinic and make the decision to end my life just because hers had become hard. My mom’s mind was made up, because she didn’t know that there was any other option for her. It took one phone call from one person to give my mom the strength she needed to choose life and to raise me. Here I am 20 years later, and I couldn’t be more thankful. If you ask my mom, saving my life saved hers. My birth is the reason she turned her life around and became a loving mother, kind daughter, and contributing member to society.

With all the joy that my birth brought her, my mom always carried the guilt that she almost ended my life before I even got a chance to see the world. When I found out three years ago, it changed my entire perspective on the topic of abortion. It opened my eyes to the suddenly real and painful repercussions of abortion and how so many people’s lives would look completely different if I wasn’t born. For seventeen years, my mom struggled to forgive herself for almost aborting me. My self-confidence suffered because of it for a prolonged time. I felt that my life wasn’t worth anything to the most important people in my life. The long-term mental impact is something my mom and I are still working through today and through which we will continue to suffer.

It is not a blessing and a gift that my mother was even afforded the option to end my life. It is not a joke that some people believed that I didn’t have the right to my own life. It is not comical that unborn children are being denied that right every day.

The second line of Azor’s article reads, “Yes, abortion can be funny.” As a pro-life woman and a survivor of the abortion epidemic plaguing our country, I am here to inform you that abortion is not funny. So, listen up Lady Parts Justice League, there is a new feminist army in town, and we are here to tell you that your jokes aren’t funny. No one is laughing.

Lillian Knight serves as YWA President at Louisiana State University 

A version of this piece was published by the Washington Examiner.