CHOOSE LIES:
one woman's experience with
crisis pregnancy centers.
We're fighting Satan
Choose Life Inc.
The secret language
of abortion
Plastic fetuses
Sales pitches
Scare tactics
In denial
Life, not death
By Deb Berry
Published 4/17/2003, ORLANDO WEEKLY
George Orwell once said, "All propaganda is a lie, even when it's
telling the truth." I ponder this quote as I read a leaflet from a "crisis
pregnancy center" (CPC). The leaflet features a haunting photo of a fetus
aborted at 20 weeks. Below it, large letters exclaim, "ABORTION KILLS."
I am no stranger to crisis pregnancy centers or the propaganda
they distribute. (The gruesome photos used by the anti-abortion movement,
for example, almost always depict rare, late-term abortions and fetuses
that had already died in the womb, but 90 percent of all abortions occur
in the first trimester.) Just over a decade ago, I unwittingly encountered
such a center while dealing with an unplanned pregnancy.
In a tumultuous relationship with a man (whom I'll call "Rob")
who was mentally, verbally, emotionally and sometimes physically abusive,
I had been trying to work up the strength to leave him. But fear kept
me there: fear that no one else would ever want me and fear of what Rob
would do if I ever tried to leave him. (Years later I found out: Rob held
me at gunpoint at the edge of our bed, threatening to kill me until I agreed
to stay and "work things out.")
My life had become a daily exercise in pain avoidance. I walked
on eggshells, put on a happy face when I was miserable, pretended to enjoy
sex and hid the fact that most days, I just wanted to die. But an abused
woman learns very fast how to be a good actress; it's imperative for her
survival. She learns that a relationship with a volatile man means that
sex is something she must do, not out of love or passion, but often out
of fear.
So when I got pregnant, I was numbed with shock and panic. I was
on the pill and couldn't imagine why it had failed. I couldn't fathom
bringing a child into such a bleak life, and initially opted to not tell
Rob I was pregnant. I was sure that he would try to coerce or manipulate
me into having the baby, just to exercise his control over me. So I decided
to secretly have an abortion.
I turned to the person I trusted most with my body and reproductive
health: my OB/GYN. He gave me a pregnancy test and determined that I was
about five weeks along.
As I sat in silence in the examination room, his nurse asked me,
"What are your plans?"
I told her flatly, "I want an abortion."
My doctor said, "We don't do that here."
I was taken aback. I had assumed that all OB/GYNs performed abortions.
"Can you refer me to someone who does?" I asked.
"Sorry," he said. "You can look in the phone book."
After I got dressed, the nurse took me over to her desk and handed
me a page that outlined what my doctor charged to deliver a baby -- about
$10,000. "That's what it'll cost to have baby," she said gleefully, emphasizing
the word "baby" like it was the fetus' name. I told her again that I
wanted an abortion. She said, "I understand, but this is just in case
you change your mind. Take some time to think about it." Looking up at
the wall next to her desk, I couldn't help but notice a nature-scene calendar
with Biblical quotes.
She sent me on my way with the maternity-expense list, literature
promoting healthy pregnancy and a prescription for prenatal vitamins.
But no abortion referral.
By the next day, the gravity of my situation and my anger at being
shunned by my own doctor hit me hard. (I later learned that antibiotics
can render the pill ineffective, and prior to my pregnancy, this same
doctor had been prescribing antibiotics for me to treat a recurrent bladder
infection. He never cautioned me to use a backup method of birth control.)
I frantically looked in the phone book under "abortion." I was
terrified. I didn't know how long I could wait to get an abortion, and
I had no idea how to choose an abortion doctor. This was long before
the age of the Internet, and phone books and word-of-mouth were a woman's
only resources for finding abortion providers.
Then I saw an ad that read, "Pregnant? Scared? We can help." I
called and explained to a woman over the phone that I was pregnant and
in an abusive relationship -- and that I needed an abortion. She said,
"I'll help you in any way I can."
At the Orlando-area center, a female staffer asked me about my
situation. I gave her a laundry list of reasons why I wanted an abortion:
My partner was abusive; I had no money; I wasn't ready for motherhood;
and mostly, I didn't want to bring a child into a life of domestic chaos.
At first she simply listened and handed me tissues while I wept, telling
me, "You're not alone. God cares about you. Just put your faith in God."
Although I had long ago rejected the existence of God, had I still been
a Catholic, this might have provided some comfort. But it didn't.
After I calmed down a bit, she put a book on my lap, and started
turning the pages. It was a book on fetal development. I became confused.
"Why do I need to know this?" I asked.
"So you can see what your baby looks like right now," she explained.
"But I need to get an abortion."
"I understand. You're upset, and you're feeling alone. But that's
what I'm here for -- to help you." She warned me of the horrific dangers
of abortion, and said that if I had one, it would traumatize me forever.
Then she picked up a pamphlet from a nearby shelf and handed it to me.
On the cover was a gory, bloody photo of an aborted late-term fetus. "This
is the reality of abortion," she said. "Have you really thought about that?"
I was stupefied. I explained again that my partner was abusive.
She said, "But you don't think he'll change once he sees his beautiful
little baby?" I finally realized that I was in some kind of anti-abortion
center. (It wasn't until many years later that I learned these places are
called "crisis pregnancy centers.") Once again, I was sent walking with
no abortion referral, and no real help. This time I got a stack of anti-abortion
literature and some religious tracts.
I would have to tell Rob I was pregnant, and I was terrified of
his reaction. Luckily, he didn't put up a fight over my decision to terminate
the pregnancy. We both agreed that our relationship was severely dysfunctional
and that having a child would be the most irresponsible thing we could
do.
A few weeks later, I found an OB/GYN who provided abortions at
his private practice. I had the abortion and have never regretted my
decision.
Unfortunately, I stayed with Rob for another seven years,
only breaking free after secretly attending support-group sessions for
abused women.
In recalling my own abortion experience, I often think of Gerri
Santoro, a 27-year-old mother of two who had also suffered an abusive
relationship. Santoro died alone in 1964 in a Connecticut motel room from
a botched illegal abortion. The police photo of her -- nude, doubled over
on the floor with a blood-soaked towel beneath her -- made her the poster
woman of abortion-rights activists in the early 1970s. When I see that
photo today, I am chilled to the bone; I always think, "That could have
been me."
We're fighting Satan
The first CPC in the United States was launched in 1967 by anti-abortion
zealot Robert Pearson in Hawaii after the state liberalized its abortion
laws. (Contrary to popular belief, Roe v. Wade did not legalize abortion;
it merely made it illegal for states to ban first-trimester abortion.
States can still restrict second- and third-trimester abortion. In Florida,
second-trimester abortions are legal, but third-trimester abortions are
only permitted when the pregnancy threatens a woman's health or life.)
When the U.S. Supreme Court handed down Roe in January 1973, Pearson
founded the Pearson Foundation and wrote a manual titled "How to Start
and Operate Your Own Pro-Life Outreach Crisis Pregnancy Center." Soon,
CPCs were popping up all across the country. Today, there are an estimated
3,200 CPCs nationwide.
Pearson's manual instructs CPC staff to use vague and evasive language
so as not to clue women and girls in to the fact that the centers are
anti-abortion. He advises centers to list themselves in the phone book
"under the headings of abortion, pregnancy, birth control information,
clinics, social services, welfare organizations, women's organizations
and services, and health services" in order to mislead women. The manual
also suggests that CPCs locate themselves in the same buildings as abortion
clinics so that "the abortion chamber is paying for advertising to bring
that girl to you." (JMJ Life Center, a local CPC, moved directly next door
to Planned Parenthood Greater Orlando earlier this month.) Pearson's philosophy
deems that CPC staffers should use whatever means necessary to prevent
a woman from getting an abortion. In a 1994 speech, he declared: "Obviously,
we're fighting Satan ... A killer, who in this case is the girl who wants
to kill her baby, has no right to information that will help her [do that]."
Choose Life Inc.
Historically, CPCs have been funded by private donations. But in
1997, Marion County Commissioner Randy Harris formed an anti-abortion
organization called Choose Life Inc., and championed a proposal that
would create a state-sponsored fund-raising vehicle for CPCs: the unprecedented
"Choose Life" license plate.
The first attempt to pass the "Choose Life" tag was vetoed by Gov.
Lawton Chiles in 1998. But in 1999, Gov. Jeb Bush -- a staunch abortion
opponent -- signed into law a bill creating the plate, making it the
first of its kind in the country. (Bush is such a fan of CPCs that he
donated part of his $675,000 campaign-fund surplus to them after becoming
governor.)
For each $22 tag sold, $20 is returned to the county of purchase,
where the board of commissioners distributes the funds to CPCs. (To date,
$1.48 million has been raised in Florida from sales of more than 37,000
"Choose Life" tags; it remains one of the top-selling specialty tags.)
Effectively, the "Choose Life" plate amounts to the state acting as a
fund-raising agent (via tag sales) for predominantly religious, anti-abortion
organizations.
In Orange County, the board of commissioners agreed to an arrangement
in which a group of seven Christian nonprofits, at least six of which
are CPCs, have formed a coalition. The group's self-chosen representative
-- William Ort, president of Gorman Fammily Life Center (which operates
the CPC A Center for Women) -- is entrusted with all "Choose Life" funds
collected in Orange County, which was about $35,000 last year. Ort distributes
the money to each member of the coalition. No other specialty plate works
this way, with the head of a religious organization overseeing the distribution
of public funds.
In order to qualify for the funds, the "Choose Life" statute specifies
that the money may go only to "nongovernmental, not-for-profit agencies"
for the purpose of "meeting the physical needs of pregnant women who
are committed to placing their children for adoption." Seventy percent
of the funds must be applied to "provide for the material needs of pregnant
women who are committed to placing their children for adoption." None
of that money can be spent on children already awaiting adoption.
Advocates of the plate consistently claim that it is meant to promote
and support adoption. Yet the actual "Choose Life" statute, No. 320.08058(26),
is replete with anti-abortion language: "Funds may not be distributed
to any agency that is involved or associated with abortion activities,
including counseling for or referrals to abortion clinics, providing medical
abortion-related procedures, or pro-abortion advertising." The Choose
Life Inc. website even promotes the tag as a way to "speak up for the unborn."
Barry Silver is a Boca Raton attorney who has been making legal
challenges to the "Choose Life" tag since its inception. He notes that
the tag's catch phrase comes from the Old Testament, Deuteronomy 30:19,
a passage abortion foes have long cited as a Biblical condemnation of abortion:
"I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set
before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life,
that both thou and thy seed may live."
"The slogan 'Choose Life' sounds innocent," says Silver, "but in
fact it is the rallying cry and mantra for a movement that resorts to
death threats, arson, bombings and even murder to achieve their agenda."
Silver says of CPCs and their sponsors, "They say, 'You're a sinner, but
we have the cure.' It's a way of manipulating [pregnant women's] guilt.
But, once the kids are born, they don't care about them anymore."
He maintains that the tag is a smoke screen to push an anti-abortion
agenda with the stamp of approval from the state. "It's not about the
adoption of children; it's about the adoption of a slogan." As evidence
of Silver's contention, opponents of the specialty tag challenged its
sponsors early on by suggesting slogans such as "Adopt a Child" and "Support
Adoption." But all proposals were shot down in favor of "Choose Life."
(A proposal for a pro-choice tag was also rejected.)
How successful has the plate been at promoting adoption through
CPCs? Not very. Shirley Healey, director of TLC Women's Center (an Orlando
CPC) says that of the more than 1,000 visits to her center last year,
only one woman opted for adoption. Healy still has funds sitting in an
account, which she can't use until another woman chooses to place her baby
for adoption.
But not all of the "Choose Life" money has to go to pregnant women;
CPCs may use up to 30 percent of the total collected to advertise, which
is one of the biggest expenses for the centers. For example, in 2001,
JMJ Life Center spent $14,200 on advertising (though how much of that was
"Choose Life" money is hard to say since the center's tax returns do not
itemize how government funds were used). The center's director, Myrna Hardman,
feels the advertising expense is completely justified. "It's necessary.
The abortionists have full-page ads."
The secret language
of abortion
Anti-abortion crusaders view crisis pregnancy centers as the underground
railroad of the war on abortion. To fully understand that battle, one
must be able to decipher its semantics. For instance, abortion-rights
advocates use medical terminology to discuss fetal development, such as
"fetus," "embryo" or "zygote." The anti-abortion camp uses "baby," "little
person" or "unborn child."
In keeping with the strategy of confusion and deception via word
choice, CPCs use innocuous language in their advertising. "Pregnant?
Let us help you!" proclaims an ad for Center for Pregnancy. "Considering
abortion? Your health and safety are important to us," says another ad
for A Center for Women. Most centers advertise free pregnancy tests, which
is often the most appealing lure for young and poor women.
The tactics of CPCs beg examination of consumer fraud, due to misleading
advertising and public-health issues, with volunteers calling themselves
"counselors," diagnosing pregnancy and giving what could easily be construed
as medical information and advice. Investigations and lawsuits in New
York, California, Ohio, Missouri and North Dakota have prompted change
in the way some CPCs in those states operate.
And now CPCs are in line to collect state and federal monies --
through "Choose Life" tags and President Bush's Faith-Based and Community
Initiatives, respectively -- and some are even being invited into public
schools to teach "abstinence only" programs; JMJ Life Center is approved
to do so by the Seminole County School Board.
The growing support of CPCs by anti-abortion legislators is creating
a demand by abortion-rights groups to make the centers more accountable
for how they bill themselves and the advice they give. Yet, most people
are completely unaware of what goes on inside CPCs; the only people who
really know are the women who go to them for help.
It's been more than 10 years since I've been inside a CPC. Would
the fact that they now take government money alter their modus operandi?
Would they still give out misleading information? Would they still denounce
abortion? Would they still proselytize?
There's only one way to find out. Armed with a positive urine sample
from a friend (I'm not pregnant, and the only way to ensure that I would
get the "pregnancy counseling" was to convince the centers that I was),
I went undercover into Orange County CPCs as a pregnant woman seeking
help.
Plastic fetuses
Inside JMJ Life Center, I spot icons of Catholicism including a
wall hanging of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the "JMJ" in the center's moniker.
Below it a pamphlet rack houses Biblically oriented literature on abstinence
and the evils of birth control. Inside the "counseling" room, another
rack holds dozens of pamphlets decrying abortion. On the table next to
it is a set of plastic fetuses at different gestational stages.
I present myself to the volunteer, "Edna," as a promiscuous, irresponsible,
underemployed drug user. (The names of all CPC staffers in this story
have been changed as CPC directors did not permit follow-up interviews
for this story.) I don't know who the father is, I tell her. What's worse
is that I've been taking drugs during my pregnancy, including alcohol,
marijuana, cocaine and ecstasy. I'm very worried that I've already damaged
the fetus, I tell her.
Edna reassures me that things will be all right by telling me a
story about a drug-addicted prostitute from her neighborhood. "She took
drugs during her entire pregnancy, and her baby turned out just fine," she
says. "As long as you stop doing drugs now, it should be fine. Babies have
a way of protecting themselves from their mothers' bad habits."
I ran some of the counseling I received at CPCs past Dr. Thomas
Young, a Winter Park OB/GYN. Young disagrees with the assessment that
babies are not easily harmed. "The first trimester is the most critical,"
says Young. "I'd say the first 45 days especially."
Young considers himself "pro-life." Though he emphatically disagrees
with some of the information I received, ironically, he has ties to
some of those same centers by offering free sonograms to women considering
abortion.
Edna persists in persuading me to have the baby, and I continue
to object to the prospect of raising a child alone, having to go on welfare
and other government programs to survive. Sensing my unease, Edna tries
a different tactic and tries to sell me on "open" adoption: I can pick
the parents, name the baby, have a relationship with the child, even
become a "member of the family."
"Really?" I ask. "I can do that?"
"Sure you can!" Edna says.
"Could" and "can" are big words in the adoption pitch. True, a
woman could become a "member of the family" -- in the rare instance
that an adoptive family would agree, or adhere, to such an arrangement.
Heather Carlini, a certified medical hypnotherapist based in British
Columbia and founder of the Carlini Institute, (which trains post-adoption
counselors) is a reunited birth mother who has been treating other birth
mothers and adoptees for 15 years. Her two books, "Adoptee Trauma" and
"Birth Mother Trauma" have laid the groundwork for a growing movement to
acknowledge the emotional, physical and psychological ramifications of
adoption.
"The stories on TV that deal with adoption are usually stories
in which everyone lives happily ever after," Carlini says. But that scenario
is often far from the truth. Too often, "They forget to tell the girl that
adoption has long-term effects on both the mother and child."
In the majority of such adoption cases Carlini has seen, the adoptive
parents find a way to end contact. "In reality," she says, "once the adoption
is finalized, the adoptive parents can move to another state and discontinue
contact, or they can accuse the natural mother of harassing them, and
[the birth mother] can be cut out of the picture."
As my session with Edna comes to a close, she warns me that "People
who do abortions are very sick people" and gives me some anti-abortion
literature, including a leaflet with several gory photos of aborted fetuses.
Sales pitches
When I give "Melissa" at A Center for Women the same story about
using drugs and not knowing who the father of my baby is, her mouth
drops and her eyes go wide. But her disgust with my lifestyle doesn't
change her opinion that an abortion is unacceptable. "I don't feel it
would be healthy or right for you," she says.
"But, I really don't like kids," I tell her. "When I hear them
screaming in supermarkets, all I can think is, 'If that kid doesn't
shut up, I'm gonna strangle it.' I'd be a bad mother."
"I don't think you'd be a bad mother," she insists, cautioning
me to be leery of all abortion providers. "Abortion is a money industry,"
she says.
Melissa gives me an abortion "safety" checklist, which turns out
to be a last-ditch scare tactic. "Do not be the victim of someone's desire
to make a quick cash sale," the list warns. Another item urges me not to
"confirm a pregnancy test at an abortion clinic." A staffer at A Center
for Women fills me in: "They might tell you that you're pregnant when you're
not so that they can sell you an abortion."
Before leaving, I ask Melissa how long I can wait to get an abortion.
She gives me the same answer I got at JMJ Life Center: "Up to nine months.
You can walk in the day before your due date and get one. There's no law
about it."
As mentioned earlier, that is simply not true. Under Florida Statute
390.0111, the law states that third-trimester abortion is only permitted
"to save the life or preserve the health" of a pregnant woman, and that
a physician must attest to such a circumstance in writing.
Another item on the abortion safety checklist from A Center for
Women warns that abortion providers and clinics are not required to be
licensed, implying that any charlatan with a rusty knife is free to perform
abortions without consequence.
Again, not true. The law is clearly spelled out in Florida Statute
797.03(2): "It is unlawful for any person or public body to establish,
conduct, manage, or operate an abortion clinic without a valid current
license."
And to put Melissa's contention that abortion is a "money industry"
in perspective, fees to adopt healthy infants can run as high as $30,000;
my former OB/GYN charged $10,000 for prenatal care and delivery; and
an abortion costs about $350.
Several weeks after my visit to A Center for Women, I call William
Ort, president of the center, requesting an interview. He refuses. "I'm
familiar with your paper," Ort says, "and you have an agenda. I don't
trust anything you have to say. You lied, you were deceptive, and you
misled my counselor."
Scare tactics
Center for Pregnancy is an "integrated auxiliary" of the First
Baptist Church of Orlando. It is, essentially, an arm of the church,
yet it receives public funds from the "Choose Life" tag.
I give them a urine sample and am told my pregnancy test will take
40 minutes. (Pregnancy tests generally take about five minutes.) I ask
them if I can leave and come back for the results. The staffer says no.
About 10 minutes later, two women -- "Jesse" and "Maria" -- take
me into a room. Within two minutes Maria asks, "What are your attitudes
on abortion?"
I object to the question. "Why do I need to answer that? I just
came in for a pregnancy test. Can't I just have my results?"
Jesse assures me, "Well, we're here to help you."
"That's fine," I say. "But why is the test taking so long?"
Jesse loses patience with me.
"Look, we're here to help you," she says, "to help you to decide
what to do if you are pregnant."
I'm irritated with her. "I just want to know my results!"
She reluctantly agrees to get the results. When both women return
with a positive test, the now-familiar anti-abortion drill begins. They
show me a little plastic fetus. Maria exclaims, "They cut the baby up inside
you and suck it out piece by piece!"
They warn me, in vivid detail, of all the things that could go
wrong during an abortion: an instrument could puncture my uterus; part
of the "baby" could be left, causing fatal infection; I could become
infertile; I could bleed to death; my intestines could be "sucked out"
through my uterus; I could develop "post-abortion syndrome"; I could get
breast cancer. "Abortion is very, very dangerous!" Jesse concludes.
At one point, Jesse "witnesses" to me, telling me that many years
ago, when she was a strung-out prostitute, "God lifted me up and saved
me from that life." She also says -- in response to my claim of prenatal
drug abuse -- that during her first pregnancy, she too used drugs, but
that the infant turned out to be a perfectly healthy baby boy. And if my
fetus is already damaged from drug use, Maria says, "Even if your baby
only lives for two weeks, at least you'd know that God took its life and
not you."
Jesse tells me that if I opt to keep the baby, the center offers
all kinds of support services, like the HOPE program, whereby I can
get free baby clothes, toys and supplies. But I would first have to watch
Christian videos, attend Bible study or Christian support-group meetings,
and for each activity, I'd receive vouchers that I could then trade in
for the things I need for my baby.
Then Jesse asks, "May we pray with you?" I agree, and they pray.
After my visit I tried to interview the center's director, Sandy
Epperson, for this story. Epperson, like William Ort, called me "deceptive."
She reluctantly agreed to an interview, but canceled two days before
our meeting due to a sudden death in her family. She did not respond to
a subsequent request to reschedule.
In denial
Statistics indicate that abortion is one of the safest and most
common surgical procedures in modern medicine. According to the Alan Guttmacher
Institute, the nation's leading authority on abortion statistics, a woman
is 11 times more likely to die by continuing a pregnancy than by terminating
it. Yet not a single center I visited gave me any kind of warning about
the physical, emotional or socio-economic ramifications of having a baby.
"Giving the baby life," in every case, was deemed more important than
my life.
The abortion horrors that were described to me by CPCs were seen
by emergency-room staff in pre-Roe days. Women were often rushed to hospitals
after botched abortions that employed any variety of instruments, from
knitting needles to coat hangers to caustic chemicals inserted vaginally.
During a discussion with Myrna Hardman of JMJ Life Center, I point out
that if abortion is abolished, many women will die or become maimed as a
result of trying to perform self- or back-alley abortions.
I don't agree," she says, citing the claims of Bernard Nathanson,
a former abortion provider turned anti-abortion spokesman who claims that
back-alley and self-abortions are a myth perpetuated by abortion-rights
advocates. "This is a big lie," Hardman says.
Sunny Chapman, a New York-based abortion-rights activist and documentarian,
says people like Myrna Hardman are "like Holocaust deniers." Chapman
has interviewed and shot video footage of thousands of people from the
anti-abortion camp and notes that unwavering denial in the face of reams
of evidence is commonplace. "These are people who are clearly removed from
any kind of rational thinking," she says. While documenting conferences
held by the Army of God (an anti-abortion group that encourages violence
and murder), she heard members say that if a woman seeks an abortion, "She
deserves to die."
After meeting dozens of women over the years who had been traumatized
by visits to CPCs, Chapman made two documentary films on the subject,
"Misguidance" and "In Bad Faith," in hopes of raising public awareness
of the growing problems of CPCs.
Every CPC I visited warned me about "post-abortion syndrome," a
condition not recognized or acknowledged by any legitimate medical, psychiatric
or psychological institution. It exists nowhere in the "Diagnostic and
Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders," the comprehensive reference for
mental-health professionals. Research studies published in the Journal
of the American Medical Association, American Psychologist and Professional
Psychology: Research and Practice have all concluded that "post-abortion
syndrome" is a fiction. The same studies report that the most common emotion
reported by women after an abortion is relief.
But by far the most terrifying lie disseminated by CPCs is that
abortion increases the odds for breast cancer. Dozens of scientific studies
have concluded that no such link exists. The National Breast Cancer Coalition
says that the few recent studies that suggest such a link "were severely
flawed and their results are not valid." The National Cancer Institute,
American Cancer Society and the scientific community at large all agree
that there is no cause-and-effect relationship between abortion and breast
cancer.
Life, not death
A few weeks after visiting JMJ Life Center, I sit down for a chat
with Myrna Hardman, the center's director. Her office is sparsely decorated,
save for a large picture of the pope hanging on the wall behind her.
Her attire is modest and her demeanor reserved. She tells me about her
deep faith -- she is God's soldier in the war to stop abortion. I ask
her if abortion is ever justified, such as in cases of rape or fetal spina
bifida. Nothing sways her anti-abortion stance. I think surely there must
be some circumstance where she would find abortion acceptable. So, I pose
a hypothetical scenario: "Pretend you can see into the future, what's going
to happen if you don't intervene." I tell her to imagine that it's 1888,
and that she is Clara Hitler's doctor. Clara is pregnant with what will be
her son, Adolph. But she doesn't want to have the baby and asks for an abortion.
Knowing what Clara's son will reap upon humanity if born, I ask Hardman,
"Do you give her an abortion?"
She pauses a moment, carefully pondering the dilemma. Finally,
she answers: "No," she says. "Choose life. ... If you're gonna err,
let's err on the side of life, not death."
ABORTION RIGHTS
NARAL Pro-Choice America
http://www.naral.com/
Planned Parenthood
http://www.plannedparenthood.org/
Birth mother/adoptee support
The Carlini Institute
http://www.carliniinstitute.com/
Birth Mother Trauma and Adoptee Trauma books
pacificcoast.net/~healthyliving
Birth Mothers in Exile
http://www.exiledmothers.com/
ALSO SEE: PRO-LIFE/ANTI-ABORTION
SITES & ABORTION and BIRTH
CONTROL INFORMATION