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May 5, 1999
A modified version of this article appeared in the News
and Observer (Raleigh, NC) on January 15, 1998.
Twenty-five years ago, there was a pregnant woman in Kentucky
in very bad circumstances. She had three neglected children already
and no money, and it is believed that she had a drinking problem.
If the feminists' vision of "every child a wanted child"
had existed, it is doubtful whether hers would have been born.
In February, the woman gave birth to a baby girl whom she
named Joy. As Joy spent her early years in a succession of foster
homes, it seemed that she might never be "a wanted child."
Then a young Army couple who already had one daughter made the
decision to adopt another, and suddenly Joy was wanted after
all.
Joy became my sister when I was three-years-old. I can't remember
the day she joined our family, but our mother will never forget
her first sight of the skinny little girl badly in need of a
bath, carrying everything she owned in a paper bag. Our parents
had made only one stipulation when applying to adopt: They wanted
a child who needed a family. That was exactly the child we got.
I wish I could say that Joy's story was one of those dream-come-true,
happy-ever-after fairy tales. Unfortunately, five years of abuse
and neglect had left their scars. As a child, Joy hoarded food
and told me scary stories of being hit with a hairbrush and chained
to a crib. Today, although she has come a long way in putting
together the life she wants for herself, Joy still struggles
with a poor self-image, afraid to trust the people who love her.
Joy's story illustrates why many women in unplanned pregnancies
reject the idea of putting their children up for adoption. They
can't stand to think of those children being badly treated by
some stranger. Instead, they choose to end their pregnancies
by abortion.
It is true that Joy's life has not been easy. But what was
the alternative?
Her life could have ended before she saw daylight, in an act
of violence greater than any that later happened to her. She
could have been ripped out of her mother's womb, thrown into
a dumpster, and forgotten.
She would never have become my sister or our parents' daughter.
She would never have held me on her lap and comforted me when
I broke my new doll, or taken my hand to help me cross the street
(as she would have done until I was 20 if I hadn't finally told
her to knock it off). I would never have calmed her fears during
a thunderstorm or taught her to pick out songs with one finger
on the piano. A million secrets, games, fights and laughs that
we shared simply would not have happened.
Underneath the passionate demands and sophisticated arguments
for freedom of choice, underneath the claims that a woman should
do whatever she wants with her own body, this is what the abortion
decision means: A child lives, or a child dies.
I know which alternative Joy would have chosen for herself,
despite all the struggles and problems she would one day face.
It was the alternative she chose for her own child when she found
herself in an unplanned pregnancy nearly three years ago. By
carrying her son nine months, giving birth to him, and placing
him in the arms of a Christian couple longing for a baby, Joy
showed that she knows the worth of a life better than many of
the "experts."
As we look back this month on 25 years of Roe v. Wade, we
don't know what would have happened to the more than 30 million
who were aborted. We do know what happened to one who was not
aborted. Joy's life has been difficult, but thank God she was
given the opportunity to live it. She is wanted and loved more
than anyone would have expected, and she has hope for her future.
This year -- three-and-a-half weeks after the anniversary
of Roe -- Joy will celebrate her 25th birthday. More than 30
million others will never celebrate theirs.
***
Gina R. Dalfonzo works at the Family Research Council, a research
and educational organization based in Washington, D.C.
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