I’ve tried to sit back, I really have. I’ve tried to be the polite one who shared her views quietly as I blogged about sweet things, of hope and love, and God. I’ve shared small quiet opinions on Facebook as I have shared others blogs and posts and by doing so I thought that I was being polite and kind. I thought that I was doing my best to spread joy by not spreading controversy, but today as I was reading yet another blog by another person other than myself who seemed to put everything that I felt so perfectly into words for me, I realized that I wasn’t being polite or kind, I was being cowardly and hiding the testimony that is me, even if it might offend someone. I need to use my voice even if all it accomplishes is to make someone mad. I cannot profess to have a testimony if the only way I share it is in the quiet confines of my safe little home with others who feel the same way as me. No fear of rejection, maybe, but no voice in a world that so desperately needs more.
Most of you know that I am a mother of six crazy kids. I try to be a great mother, my most important job, but I am human and fail quiet regularly, and my kids are human and fail quiet regularly too…that being said, I’ve mostly stuck to the pleasant times in my life, or the testimony building times in my life in this blog. Some of you may not know that I at times struggled to have those sweet kiddos of mine. After Luke we had a very unexpected pregnancy, he was only three months old, but after lots of, “oh craps”, we accepted, moved on and even became excited. Three months later on the move back to Utah I lost said baby. At that point that baby was already mine and the loss was hard. It took 18 months more of trying and praying and several early miscarriages later before we conceived Jenny.
Joy of Joys, let me tell you when Jenny was born. That was until 5 ½ weeks later when she contracted RSV which led to pneumonia, which led to several days in the hospital which led to Jenny turning blue, which led to our doctor rushing to get her breathing which led to said doctor who was also our Bishop at the time and Jason giving Jenny a blessing and little sweet tiny baby Jenny and me riding frantically in an ambulance to Utah Valley Hospital where she almost died. Seeing my baby with pick lines and tubes and oxygen for days struggling to live when in reality she should not have, crushed my heart, not to mention the next two years of her fighting to get her immune system back.
Flash forward 6 plus years to my little Stephanie. 5 ½ weeks away until her birth and suddenly my blood pressure is racing and her little body starts actually losing weight in the womb in the month that it should be gaining the most. 3 ½ weeks of bed rest and one false alarm emergency trip in an ambulance to Utah Valley Hospital later and sweet, very tiny, Stephanie is born, complete with the cord wrapped several times tightly around her neck and all, all 5 ½ pounds of her with fiery wild red hair and the sweetest little face ever.
I’ve had sister in laws who have struggled much worse than me, trying so desperately, going from one doctor to the next, spending day and night on their knees just to get the chance to be a mother. And the heartbreak that I have seen on their faces says it all, childhood is a gift, a gift that so many don’t seem to understand.
Where am I going with this, well, I think you all know? When Jason and I were first married and first pregnant with our first baby Luke, we lived far from home in a state very unfamiliar for us without the use of a cell phone and long distance being so much money. I was young and naive and completely unaware of what to do next. Looking for a place to come across discretely a pregnancy test I looked in the phone book and came across the name, “Planned Parenthood.” Now this was 22 years ago and I was very innocent and in my mind those words described me perfectly, someone trying to plan parenthood. I would like to say the pregnancy test was free…but it wasn’t. It cost the same as it would have in the store, but it was discrete and very quiet. Had I known then what I know now, I never would have gone.
Planned Parenthood is the Devils business. By walking through those doors I was in the Devil’s house even if not aware. And times have changed and the world has grown and eyes have been opened and everyone is aware, well accept maybe our very little ones who are still slightly protected from this world. No one in America can any longer claim innocence like I could 22 years ago, media and the internet have changed that. We all know who Planned Parenthood is and what they are about. They are about the Devil’s work, destroying innocent lives before they have a chance to flourish or fail per their God given right, and destroying the most sacred institution in this world the family. If you enter Planned Parenthood you are entering the Devil’s house. If you work for Planned Parenthood you are working for the Devil’s business. And if you have any excuses for it you are making excuses for the Devil himself, you are doing the Devil’s work.
There is no longer a grey line, a magic haze between right and wrong that is easy to sway one way or another to fit our whims and selfish desires. When Planned Parenthood was ousted as baby killers that line was no longer grey but black and white and when the media hit with the sale they are making of these innocent victims body parts that only come after the horrible murder of ones too tiny to fight for themselves the magic haze disappeared entirely letting light, or maybe more accurately darkness shine in on the whole deal.
If you’ve ever been a mother, you cannot look at a little newborn in your arms and not know, if even just for one little second, that there is something, or someone greater working in the making of that child. And if you’ve ever been a mother struggling with the fear or even loss of losing a child, you cannot logically say that that life didn’t matter, even in the few minute cells that it was in its very first beginnings. And if you’ve ever been a mother struggling so hard and praying so long just for the chance to be a mother, you cannot possibly understand how someone, shellfish or inconvenienced or hurt could ever think it alright to destroy something so precious.
I don’t care who you are, what your views are, or how I might hurt your feelings…if you support Planned Parenthood, well then you are doing your little bit today to help the Devil along his way. And if I keep shut about how I feel about it, well maybe, just maybe I am doing the same.