The Boundary Around My Pond

Boundaries are wonderful. Without them we could not have ponds. No ponds, no fish. Yes, we like boundaries. I think the fish do, too.

One boundary we think we don’t welcome is the womb. Wombs are wonderful. Without them we could not have babies. I think the babies like them, too.

But we ignore what we know is true and we violate that quiet, safe place for our growing babies, every day. Over 3000 times per day. It is impossible to violate our own bodies and our children’s lives the way we do, and still feel human.

Look at this:

In Pennsylvania, they’ve found a physician/abortionist who has made a profession and a large fortune from violating the boundaries of our wombs. How did he do it? By accepting payment in cash, not reporting his earnings, storing his money at home instead of in a bank, not disposing of bio-hazards, not sterilizing equipment, not providing gowns for patients, and barely paying staff.

Oh, and he sold drugs on the side. Cash, only, please.

More than half the people who went into his “clinic” died. You know, all the babies died, and several of the moms, too. It was just like the good ol’ days, minus the coat hanger. “Safe and rare”, my foot.

The only good thing about it, if it can be called good, is the wording the Philadelphia reporter, Stephanie Farr, used as she wrote her detailed report about Dr. Gosnell’s goings on:

“How many severed baby spines does it take to pay for a $984,000 shore house? How many severed infant feet is a boat worth?”

I am glad she said it that way. I don’t know how she had the nerve to write this truth in such big newspaper, nor how she got by with it, but there it was, on the Internet, for all to see. For all to think about. For all to try to grasp.

Not only does abortion mistreat women; it mistreats babies, violates wombs, ignores boundaries.

And it can turn us into monsters.