Gloucester Daily Times Debate on Abortion (100)

February, 1984

(out of chronological order on webpage)

We Should All Have a Chance

In response to John Rankin’s letter of Feb. 9, entitled — “Pro-choice:Doublespeak?”, I commend him for talking a stand against abortion. I believe that we all should have a chance for life in this world, for better or worse, and consequently a chance to receive Eternal Life. In light of this fact, I’m submitting this essay, “Tragic Diary” — author unknown.

Oct. 5: Today my life began. My parents do not know it yet. I am as small as the pollen of a flower. I will be a girl. I will have blond hair and blue eyes. Nearly everything is settled already. Even that I shall love flowers.

Oct. 19: I have grown a little, but I am still too small to do anything by myself. My mother does almost everything for me, though she still does not know that she is helping me, and that she is even feeding me with her own blood. She is so good …

But is it true that I am not yet a real person? That only my mother exists? I am a real person, just as a small crumb is still real bread. My mother is, and I am.

Oct. 23: My mouth is just now beginning to open. Just think — in a year or so I’ll be laughing and later I’ll start to talk. My first word will be “Mama.”

Oct. 25: Today my heart began to beat. It will beat softly for the rest of my life, never stopping! After many years it will be true, it will stop, and then I shall die.

Nov. 2: I am growing continually. My arms and legs are taking shape, but I must wait a long time before those tiny legs will raise me to my mother’s arms! Before those little arms will be able to conquer the earth and befriend people.

Nov. 12: Tiny fingers are beginning to form on my hands. How small they are! One day I’ll stroke my mother’s hair with them.

Nov. 20: Only today the doctor told my mother that I am living here under her heart. How happy she must be! Are you happy mother?

Nov. 25: My mother and father are probably thinking about a name for me! And they don’t even know that I am a little girl, so they are probably calling me “Andy.” But I want to be called “Barbara.” I am growing so big.

Dec. 10: My hair is growing. It is as bright and shiny as the sun. I wonder what kind of hair my mother has.

Dec. 13: I am almost able to see, though it is night around me. When Mother brings me into the world, it will be full of sunshine and overflowing with flowers.I have never seen a flower, you know. But more than anything, I want to see my mother. How do you look, Mom?

Dec. 24: I wonder if my mother hears the delicate beat of my heart? Some children are born with sickly hearts, and then the gentle fingers of the doctor perform miracles to make them healthy. But  my heart is healthy. It beats so evenly: tup-tup, tup-tup … You shall have a healthy little daughter, Mom!

Dec. 28: Today my mother killed me.

If this essay will touch one expectant mother heart and keep her from destroying her baby, it will not have been written in vain.

Pat Walker, 80 Middle St.

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