The life of a baby, no less sacred before birth than after birth

By Maria Gallagher, Legislative Director, Pennsylvania Pro-Life Federation

Recently, a friend of mine, ever-sunny Robin, was all set to serve as a volunteer on a women’s retreat weekend. Then she learned that her beloved grandchild in utero, Quinn, had to be delivered by C-section the next morning.

She left the retreat, bound for her daughter-in-law’s side. And she left behind a group of faithful women who were praying fervently that Quinn would journey safely into the world.

The retreat was jam-packed with talks and activities, but when we had a few moments to pause, we, the team members, prayed again for the young lady’s blessed arrival.

A few hours later, a team member glanced at her phone and quietly informed those around her “We have a baby.”

We logged onto Facebook and there, in all her five-pound glory, was the girl we had been praying for—stunningly beautiful, preciously pink, uniquely lovely, and unashamedly and completely loved by the grandmother who held Quinn in her arms.

While I was filled with joy and wonder at seeing Quinn’s breathtaking face, I couldn’t help but think of some politicians—most notably Hillary Clinton and Sen. Bernie Sanders during the last presidential campaign—and what they’d said at a Fox NewsTown Hall in Detroit: they support abortion even at the latest stages of pregnancy.

While Quinn’s remarkable family members were greeting her with open, loving hearts, two candidates for President were callously defending the brutal practice of late-term abortion.

It’s entirely possible that these same politicians would ooh and ahh if they saw Quinn’s photo on Facebook. And yet, they remain committed to a political agenda which allows abortion up to the moment of birth.

Quinn’s life is no accident—and neither is the life of any unborn child. There is purpose and reason for her life. And perhaps her worth is all the more apparent, given the struggle her mother faced in giving birth to her.

Quinn was no less sacred before birth as after birth. Sure, we can see her sunlit face now, when before, with the ultrasound, she would demurely turn her face away.

But she is no more human now than she was when snugly living inside her mother’s body. She is the same person—only older and more exposed to the world—a world that she will forever change, just through her very being.

When pro-abortion politicians talk about “women’s rights,” they forget about the rights of those little women in the womb, who are every bit as deserving of respect as a President, a premier, or a king.

I am convinced that someday women will be able to look at a baby picture and not have to think about the babies who never got a chance to see their grandmother’s faces—the babies that Roe v. Wade cast away.

Roe v. Wade will be no more.

The next generation will guarantee it.

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