16 Nov Anderson: A Perfect Candidate for Abortion
November 16, 2011
From the Desk of Carol Soelberg::
In our efforts to protect and strengthen the family, we have found that the battle field is found on five major fronts which we call our “Five Respects”. They include a respect for the family, marriage, life, parents and religious liberty. We dedicate countless hours to researching, educating, and advocating in behalf of these respects so that your family and mine with enjoy a safe future.
We recognize that there are individuals around the world with amazing experiences and expertise in these different battlefields. We are constantly looking for new perspectives. If you have a perspective to share or know someone who does, we welcome your input and will find a way to add your contribution to defending the families of the world. You can contact us at email@example.com
This week, we are very pleased to introduce to you a wonderful warrior in the pro-family arena. Melissa Anderson’s background will tear at your heart strings and give strong credibility to her voice in issues related to protecting life. She is a mother, an attorney, a public speaker, and a well respected oft-rewarded citizen in the cultural war battle. Her paralegal probably described her best with these words: “Mel: a Lioness and the hurting children of the world are her cubs. Watch out world.” As you read her story you too will come to admire and respect Lioness Melissa and not want to miss her future insights on protecting the children of the world!
Carol President, United Families International
Perspectives of the Unaborted Fetus
By Melissa Anderson
I was the perfect abortion candidate. When my nineteen year old mother discovered she was pregnant with me she already had a nine month old son, no education, no employment and no future. Neither of my parents were ever employed for more than a few months at a time. I can almost hear the masses calling to my mother, advising her that the uneducated, unemployed, unplanned teen parent should never allow a birth. As it was the state of California paid for my birth, my formula, my baby food. For my entire childhood the state of California bought every bit of food that made its way into my mouth.
My life was never easy. My father would later be condemned to serve two life sentences in state prison for child abuse, child neglect, sexual abuse and, perhaps the worst of it all, torture. Of all the things to succeed at, my parents chose the Olympics of abuse, running the gauntlet through every category of abuse they knew, hiding us in secrecy while we endured whatever our parental task masters had in mind to heap upon us. It was in my childhood home I witnessed, endured and eventually survived the multiple depravities one human can lash upon another. The hateful words and actions of my mother and father will forever haunt me. I will never forget the screams, the blood, the pain. I will never forget the humiliation and the hopelessness.
And yet, I bless my mother’s name.
When the cold winter of Seoul, Korea nipped at my nose, I had my mother to thank for it. When the sharp rays of the South Carolina sun shone on my black hair, I had my mother to thank for it. I had my mother to thank the first time I handled the red clay earth of Georgia or felt the lap of the ocean against my bare feet in Monterey. Most of all, when I curl up with my own baby and smell the sweet scent of milky baby breath, or hold my child’s hand or braid thick masses of hair or bake terribly disgusting brownies that my children secretly feed to the recycling bin, I have my mother to thank. When my husband holds me tightly, I have my mother to thank. She gave me life. She gave me the chance to choose for myself what my life would be and to eventually move beyond the childhood she gave me. If the woman gave me nothing else, she gave me life and for that I bless her name.
Others aren’t so lucky. Others are never given the chance for birth at all because some social formula we’ve created pops out the risk factors and determines that birth would be too much of a risk for mother and society. One more mouth to feed. One more future criminal minority on welfare perpetuating the cycle. One more mother who wasn’t ready when she made the choice to have sexual intercourse. And the preborn infant pays the price.
And what have I been doing with the life I shouldn’t have been given the opportunity to live? Am I a child abuser myself? Perhaps addicted to drugs and alcohol in an attempt to drown out my parents voices? Absolutely not. In fact, I’m a licensed attorney, a children’s book author, child advocate, raising my own children beneath the protection of love and support. The cycle is broken. The choice to go to law school for me was a no-brainer. The world, I felt, needed a translator, someone who had spent close to two decades in the trenches of poverty, abuse, hunger and despair. Someone whose life might have ended in one of the multitude of abortion clinics conveniently located in the poor, minority parts of town where young girls flock who already feel trapped and afraid. After all, it’s their own choice; the preborn don’t matter.
The rhetoric of “choice”
The interest of preborn infant are consistently disregarded for the faulty arguments raised in defense of abortion. Future articles will discuss the connection between abortion rhetoric and child abuse rates, will dissect the faulty logic of allowing elective abortion on demand in the untruthful plea for protection of the less than 1% of women who seek an abortion for reasons of rape, incest and mother’s life, as well as the argument for sonograms as a necessity prior to an abortion.
While the horrific memories of my youth will lie in the back of my mind, always silently yearning for recognition, one by one those memories are being replaced by my own choices- The choices of the fetus who never had a chance.
Let us not forget that deeply hidden in the rhetoric for choice is the glaringly incorrect proposition that the life choices of the preborn infant have already been made. The welfare-fed daughter of a convict and an uneducated teenaged mother is better off aborted. She’ll just feed the cycle of poverty and abuse in the future. Her choices are already made. She will fail. As a survivor of the trenches, I am here to say that such thinking is absolutely incorrect. More than that, I am here to debunk the false logic of the pro-abortion campaign. I hope that you will join me in the campaign to save the lives of our children. Share these articles. Joining together we will change hearts and minds.
Melissa Anderson is a lawyer in San Antonio, Texas. She is the mother of seven crazily adorable children and an author of children’s books. In her spare time, Melissa volunteers extensively with Court Appointed Special Advocates educating the community on issues related to child abuse and neglect.
For more information on Melissa’s story:
From brutal childhood to head of the class