By Patricia Casey
Are my life circumstances important? Do the reasons for what I did matter? I made a legal choice to end his life. Without fear of criminal charges, I ordered his execution. I chose death for the innocent.
It seemed as if I’d moved on in my ordinary life without repercussions or regret. I seldom thought about the child or what I had done. It was over. I told myself I wasn’t a bad person. According to the doctor, it was only a blob of tissue.
Ten years later, as I studied for my bachelor’s degree, a picture in my biology textbook reached out, grabbed me, and taunted. Six weeks old, read the caption describing the embryo with a distinct heart and form. This was not a mere blob of tissue.
Amidst my discomfort, I pressed forward quickly to return to my make-believe world. I couldn’t do anything about what I had done. I kept telling myself I was still a good person.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a nun. My favorite cousin frequently talked about God, but I was disappointed when she got pregnant before she was married. We were the same age, and she was supposed to be the good one.
To read the remainder of this article, visit clmagazine.org/topic/abortion/his-name-is-samuel.
To read more inspirational pro-life articles, visit the Celebrate Life Magazine website at clmagazine.org.
