It was January 23, 1973, and I sat in a front row desk of my American Civics class as a junior in high school. It was the day after the landmark Supreme Court decision to make elective abortion legal in all 50 states.
My instructor invited students to express their opinions on the court’s decision. I listened to my fellow classmates, but I remained silent.
As the bell rang to dismiss 25 seventeen-year-old students, Mr. McNaught challenged us with a question: “Do you think medical science will one day show us life begins in the womb?” I listened again, but this time I thought to myself, Should I remain silent?
Why We March
Over the past forty-four years, I’ve listened. I’ve researched. I’ve met women and men along the way who have shared their stories. Their real-life journeys have compelled me to not remain silent.
I march every year with the Walk For Life because it serves as a reminder to me of those I’ve met along the way.
I march for Lizzy.
Lizzy and I were seniors in high school when she found herself pregnant.
She was pressured by her boyfriend and his family to abort. She was told over and over again, “No one will ever know. You don’t have to put your life on hold. Go to college and make a life for yourself.”
During this difficult time, Lizzy confided in me. We talked. We cried. We prayed together. I encouraged her to choose adoption, but sadly, she chose to end the life of the little one inside her womb.
Twenty years later our paths crossed at our class reunion. She told me that something died in her soul the day she aborted her baby and that she wished she had carried the pregnancy to term. Once again, we talked. We cried. We prayed together for her to know the love of God deep within her hurting soul.
I march for the grieving women who suffer in silence. I march for Lizzy.
I march for Will.
Will and his college sweetheart found themselves pregnant in 1986. Against his wishes, his girlfriend went to a Planned Parenthood and had an abortion.
Will didn’t get a choice when it came to the little boy his girlfriend carried within her womb. Twenty years later he still thinks about his son. To soften the pain, he chooses to educate others with the message that fathers also grieve the loss of children from abortion.
I march for grieving fathers who weren’t allowed to protect their children. I march for Will.
I march for Alice.
As a teenager, Alice viewed abortion as a form of birth control.
In 2011, I attended Silent No More, a presentation by women who regret their abortions and have experienced the forgiveness, love, and healing that God provides. There, I heard Alice share her story.
As a teenager, Alice viewed abortion as a form of birth control. During her third abortion, she experienced excruciating pain. Her uterus was perforated during the procedure and she was transported by ambulance to the local hospital. To stop the hemorrhaging, an emergency hysterectomy was required.
In a tender voice, Alice said, “I grieve for the children I will never have. But, as my friends are becoming grandparents, I am now crying for the grandbabies I will never know.”
I march for the women who will never have children or grandchildren due to abortion. I march for Alice.
I march for Toni.
Toni, and the many others working with pregnancy resource centers across the country are equipping men and women to make life-affirming decisions.
Toni is a dear friend of mine and her story is different than the others. See, she is the Executive Director of Assure Women’s Center.
Assure is a pregnancy resource center in Omaha, Nebraska. Assure and the people who work and volunteer there, come alongside women and men who find themselves in an unplanned pregnancy. Without a single government dollar, they offer free ultrasounds, counseling, baby clothes and supplies, parenting classes, adoption resources, and perhaps most importantly, a non-judgmental listening ear.
I march for those working directly with women and men in hopeless situations and providing hope. I march for Toni.
I march for the 59 million never-named.
59 million babies have been aborted since Roe v. Wade.
This list could not be complete without including the 59 MILLION babies that have been aborted since January 23, 1973. The same day that I sat in a classroom of peers and we debated the previous day’s Roe v. Wade Supreme Court decision.
These innocent ones were never given a name, but I march for them.
Whether it’s the March for Life in D.C., the Walk for Life in Nebraska, or similar gatherings all across the country, we march because, as Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
These gatherings are more than a protest against abortion. It’s a movement to celebrate the infinite value of the unborn, of life inside the womb, of unrepeatable human-beings, of perfectly formed fingers and toes and beautiful heartbeats.
This is the pro-life movement. This is why I march.
This post was originally published Jan. 25, 2017. It was republished Jan. 19, 2018 with minor edits.
Karen Bowling