I guess this is something I will fight the rest of my life: The conflation of abortion and adoption. That all adoptees were rescued from abortion. No matter how many times my cribmates rightfully point out how incorrect and offensive this is, it’s trotted out as a heart-warming “fact” by a stupid populace who love the idea of rescuing a baby from a terrible fate.
So let me explain it again: I was adopted. I was never in danger of being aborted. Or, more to the point, I had just as much chance of being aborted as every other person who was ever born. Those who were raised by the family they were born into, here’s another newsflash for you: You could have been aborted, for any number of reasons, all valid. Because your mother – just like my mother – was a living, breathing human being with her own personal reasons as to if her pregnancy with you was okay or not.
Even if your parents were happily married, even if they wanted children, that does not mean she did not consider at least for a moment (as my mother did, for a moment) to terminate the pregnancy. And that does not make her a bad mother, or an undeserving mother, or just a “birthmother.” That makes her an independent person who thinks of herself as more than a womb.
So when the March For Life trots out this year’s golden child – the one who was “saved by adoption” – it just reminds me how far we have to go. Like Father Like Son The failed social experiment of modern adoption, with all its lies and coersion, is alive an well. The Adoption Industry keeps churning out the adoptlings, and the billions of dollars for those who stand to profit from the trauma is in no danger at all. This is where it springs from. The propaganda and gaslighting is working. A lie repeated often enough becomes the truth to those willing to believe it.
I am still, and never was, your pro-life prop. Never presume to speak for me.
Elle Cuardaigh is author of The Tangled Red Thread.