Yesterday, I was sitting in the observation loft at gymnastics talking with a couple of other gymnastics moms as Martin crawled around on the floor, being his adorable self. One sweet mom, with whom I've had a great many surface conversations over the years, casually mentioned a news story she saw on a major news network.
"Did you hear about this doctor over in Pennsylvania or something who did those awful things to those babies?"
So a conversation ensued between me and this mom and another mom, and the three of us talked about the horrors of what had gone on there. I had, by far, the most information (having followed the story before the news networks finally decided to cover it), and the other two moms were shocked at some of the things that had been done. We discussed the arbitrary nature of calling what Gosnell did "murder" while doing something that achieves the same result only a few minutes before, while baby was still in the birth canal, is considered legal and acceptable behavior in our society.
I mentioned that some lawmakers believe that infanticide should also be legal, probably also because of that arbitrary line.
One mom looked at me and said, "Well, clearly that is wrong. Even when babies survive abortion. Because, obviously, if they can survive that procedure, then God must really want them here."
I held my tongue. But what I was thinking was this:
No, the evidence that God wants these babies here is not the fact that they survived an horrific procedure designed to end their lives, but the fact that they exist at all. God is the creator of life. HE created these lives, whether we think they are convenient or wanted or desired...or not. What happened with Gosnell is a tragedy for all women and babies involved...ALL of them. Not just the ones who survived the abortion only to be killed later, and not just the women who were overdosed and given inadequate medical attention. Women and babies deserve to be treated better than this. God has a plan for each and every little human life if we just look to Him to try to find out what that plan is.
I'm a single mom this week while my husband is away on business on a trip he did not want to take but had absolutely no choice about. I always get a whole new respect for single moms when he is away. Because, Dude. This job is hard.
It may or may not help that it has been unusually busy with stuff and things. Last night was my very first school board meeting for Olivia's Catholic school. Since the daddy-person wasn't available and every single local family member was also busy, I had to find a new babysitter. She turned out to be great, but this always leaves me with a little anxiety.
Tonight is Olivia's preschool Spring program and "graduation" ceremony for those entering kindergarten next year. (No, they do not wear cap-and-gown. Thanks be to God.) I have her hair all twisted in hopes that I can accomplish the perfect twist-out 'do for her program tonight. Photos to come, whether good or bad.
She is bummed and I'm bummed and Joe is bummed that he cannot be there tonight. He is stuck in some mission diocese on the edge of the universe (or the border to Mexico, whatever). So I'm planning to record the whole thing on two separate devices and pray that one of them turns out really, really well so we can all play it back in a couple of days and say "Yay! You successfully completed preschool and will get to move ten whole feet down the hall to the Kindergarten room next year! You rock, little diva!" (The diva part because she sings loudly and can be heard above all 20 other kids in her class every time they do a program.)
I still need to iron her dress. Crap.
I managed to clean up the porch this morning, which feels like an accomplishment of epic proportions. The porch, you see, is where I send the non-nappers during nap, and the loud kids when it is raining, and the dirty kids when they are tired of playing outside. In short, it is where the kids play. And it has been neglected of late, so it was a disaster area.
My goal when Joe is gone is always to have the house cleaned and organized when he gets back, kind of as a gift. This never, ever happens like I want it to. But just to have at least ONE space that looks nice...well, that feels good.
Of course, he won't be home until tomorrow afternoon, at the end of a day when Olivia is home and I have three additional kids in the house, so it won't look anything like this tomorrow. Dude. What a waste.
I think I will go bury my head in a pillow and scream for awhile. And maybe iron that dress.