My child THANKED me. For not aborting him.

I know he was making light of the commercial he had just seen on TV, and I initially responded in kind. But then, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. This is something that is difficult to put into words, but I am determined to try.

My children did not ask to be born. While I suppose there could have been a conversation between their cherubic forms and God, I was unaware. But they were wanted. I wanted them. Their father wanted them. So much so that we both underwent a total of four and a half years of medical treatments by some rather expensive specialists. We asked… No, we begged and prayed for them.

As a child born with hip dysplasia and a few additional complications, doctors told my parents they were uncertain whether I would ever be able to carry a child to term. In the spirit of “never give up,” my first child was born on his due date. My second, the day after his due date. No C-Section required.

Four months into my first pregnancy, I was in a car accident. The driver of the Suburban behind me failed to see traffic had stopped and hit my station wagon from behind. A trip in an ambulance and visit to the doctor showed, much to our relief, that the baby was uninjured. Later in my pregnancy, I was ordered to bed rest for two weeks to avoid early labor. During my second pregnancy, the muscles in my womb weakened, and I had to wear a special support belt to avoid additional bed rest. Both were considered high risk pregnancies.

A friend once suggested that having children may not be as much a selfless act as it is a selfish act. I couldn’t disagree with her. I wanted children. I wanted to love them, see them grow, teach them, and enjoy the special bond of mother-child for the rest of our lives. I did not sacrifice anything to have them; rather, I have gained more than I could possibly measure because of them.

So, yeah, having my child thank me for not aborting him because he was “inspired” by a commercial… is offensive to me. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not offended by my son. I’m offended that someone felt a need to make children feel guilty enough to thank their parents for their lives. I understand the motivation. As a woman, I can understand both sides of the issue — the fear of young women who did not want to become pregnant, and the conviction of those who believe that life begins at conception that abortion is murder. We could debate until the Rapture on the behavior of those who choose to abort, and whether or not they are immoral or “asked for it” by engaging in intercourse.

But none of that matters. My children should not have to try, in any way, to make up for the procreative choices of others. They do not have to thank me for their lives. They owe me nothing for being born. Indeed, it is the other way around.

Thank You, my loves, for your persistence during your first 9 months. Thank You, for being born. You represent the best I could ever have offered, and I thank you for everything you are now and will become.