Pro-abortion schizophrenia finds a new expression: Birthing Center/Abortion Clinic

 

By Dave Andrusko

The-Hand-of-Hopere

Samuel Armas, who was 21-22 weeks old when doctors operated to close the lesion on his spinal column. Photo by Michael Clancy.

When you read pro-abortion blogs, there is always—always—plenty of material to add to your “you can’t make this stuff up” folder. Here’s the latest, although by the time I post this story, something new will undoubtedly be available to add.

Check out this from a post on Slate.com:

“Having a single place to go for all your pregnancy needs instead of sorting patients out depending on their preconceptions about outcome is just plain common sense. Being able to go to the same doctor to give birth and have an abortion at different times in your life is likely comforting for patients.”

Comforting?! Yup, according to Amanda Marcotte, the author of “Nation’s First Birthing Center/Abortion Clinic Opens in Buffalo. This Is Huge.”

What is Marcotte talking about? Quoting from another pro-abortion site, she sings the praises of the Birthing Center of Buffalo. We’re told the “clinic” offers “a traditional slate of gynecological services, including abortion up to 22 weeks.”

Click here to read the January issue of National Right to Life News,
the “pro-life newspaper of record.”

Twenty two weeks? Do you remember photographer Michael Clancy’s utterly amazing pictures of Samuel Armas, the unborn baby who was 21-22 weeks when doctors operated to close the lesion on his spinal column? (See photo.) See his hand grab the surgeon’s hand? That’s the age babies at the Birthing Center of Buffalo will have their lives snuffed out at.

The clinic is run (we’re told) by Dr. Katharine Morrison and the gimmick is that it is a place “where women who want a nonhospital birthing experience can go while having the benefit of being attended by a certified nurse midwife and an OB-GYN who has admitting privileges at the local hospital in case of complications.”

Do her abortionists also have admitting privileges when the inevitable complications occur? Or do they simply rotate between being a real doctor—and delivering live babies–and an abortionist–delivering dead babies?

The latter. At the end we learn that the “doctor” wears two hats. “The same doctor who is performing abortions is also delivering babies,” Marcotte writes.

[I wish I could remember where I first read what I consider the winner of the all-time prize for best euphemism: abortion and live births should be seen as alternative ways to “terminate” a pregnancy.]

What’s the agenda? Marcotte is straightforward. Here’s a lengthy quote that begins with the larger context:

“Which isn’t to say that there aren’t lots of OB-GYNs out there who do both abortions and deliveries, of course. But abortion is so siloed off in freestanding clinics that many doctors do most of their OB-GYN care in one office and then travel to a separate one to perform abortions. While this system can help women who are looking for abortion find it more easily, it also had the negative effect of stigmatizing abortion patients by walling them off from all the other patients seeking OB-GYN care.

“As Emily Bazelon reported in the New York Times in 2010, there’s been a move in the medical profession to rectify this problem by reintegrating abortion into mainstream medical care. ‘The bold idea at the heart of this effort is to integrate abortion so that it’s a seamless part of health care for women — embraced rather than shunned,’ she writes.”

Okay, I get it. You cover the ugliness of slaughtering huge babies with the blanket of compassionate delivery of living babies. To Marcotte, it’s three cheers for the “doctor” who one minute hands a living, breathing newborn baby over to her mother and the next minute hands the assignment over to his nurse to reassemble all dead baby’s body parts.

To most people, that would be almost clinical definition of schizophrenia. But in the minds of ultra-radicals like Marcotte, it proves “There’s no contradiction there.”

I have always known that one would have to have a split personality to wash one hand in antiseptics and the other hand in the blood of unborn babies. But until today, I’d never realized that to the Marcottes of this world, it represents a badge of honor.