The article linked above is exactly why we needed a law to protect children who survive their mother's abortion. I just read that and I'm horrified, sickened. A baby was delivered live, moving, into a toilet, and allowed to die there. I can imagine no more repugnant, disrespectful death for any human being.
But the article raises even more questions for me. The mother is a conundrum. There is no doubt in my mind she loves this child. And apparently, loved him when she made the decision to end his life. She researched the least painful death possible for him. She chose to undergo delivery in order that his body be whole. But dear God, what the hell was she thinking? She planned the funeral in advance. She is not merely complicit in this death; she orchestrated it.
How is that possible? What sort of derangement must be present for a mother, who loves her child, to plan his funeral and arrange his death?
I like to imagine the girls who go into these murder factories as ignorant, deluded, or naive. I assume they've bought the lie that their child is nonhuman or not alive. They're frightened, perhaps gulled by an overbearing parent or an unsupportive husband or boyfriend. They have poor self images, low self esteem, can't imagine that they're fit to be anyone's mother. They know not what they do. In their own warped way, they are innocent.
This woman cracks my mental safety net to bits. She was none of these things. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was coherent enough to plan a funeral, and competent enough to make decisions as to how best to carry out her murder. She was even empathetic enough to not want her son to hurt physically as he died.
How does someone like that get within a hundred yards of such a place? How can she bring herself to set foot inside that building?
Where was her maternal instinct? Where was her basic, God-given sense of decency? Right and Wrong? For the love of Pete- she planned his funeral. While he moved inside her, living and growing, she plotted his death and how she would mourn him.