When I was a child, my baby sister died just two days before her delivery date when my mom’s uterus ruptured unexpectedly—the result of my Caesarean birth just four years earlier. It was the first real tragedy my parents faced in their marriage, and she just happened to die on the anniversary of Roe v. Wade.
Every subsequent year on January 22nd, my parents remembered my sister Emily by participating in pro-life events, including our state’s annual March for Life. We sent up balloons. We ate birthday cake. We celebrated her life.
Even though my baby sister Emily was not an abortion victim, her death taught my family the value of human life and in a very real way started me on my journey as a pro-life activist.
I was only four years old when she died. Now I am 26 and have more than ten years of pro-life experience as an activist. I have volunteered at crisis pregnancy centers, counseled women outside of several Planned Parenthood clinics, referred several women for help, and witnessed more than one life saved.
I will always be grateful to my parents for their example of valuing human life. When facing the greatest tragedy of their marriage, they saw an opportunity for action in their community. They recognized that they were not the only ones to lose a child. In perhaps the most admirable way possible, they taught me to celebrate life and stand up for life at the same time, even in the face of death. This is what the pro-life movement is all about.
You don’t need to be religious to care about ending abortion. You just need to know the value of a human life.
[Today’s guest post by Mary Flanagan is part of our paid blogging program.]