POWERLESS: MEN AND ABORTION

Abortion leaves a painful footprint of regret and shame on the hearts of all who are involved in the abortion decision

If you are a man, you hear this a lot in the abortion debate: “It's a woman's issue. A man has no right to an opinion about it. It doesn't concern you.”

Don't believe it.

Abortion supporters used this argument for two main reasons. First, it’s used to silence men, removing half the population from the debate, and invalidating their opinions. “You can't get pregnant,” it goes, “so your opinion doesn't matter.”

The second use is made by other men and is designed to ease their consciences. “It's the woman's choice,” they will say, “and you can't influence her in any way.” They will reject a man's objections because it justifies their own inaction.

I fell into that second category. In 1976, when my wife from my first (and now annulled) marriage discovered she was pregnant, I was delighted. But when she decided to abort so that she could take the dance role she'd been cast in, I made no objection.

“It's your choice,” I told her. “I support you.” What I wanted to do was scream, “Don't do this! Please don't do this!”

I drove her to the abortionist instead.

I felt powerless. And according to the law, I was. I had no reproductive rights. And I still don't. Worst of all, I was also a coward. Because I couldn't face up to what we'd done—more specifically, what I'd done, I gave in entirely. I was afraid to appear “unenlightened,” to go against the prevailing attitude of society—at least, the society I kept—but most of all, I was afraid to lose her. I mashed it down and pretended it was all right for the sake of our marriage, which I wanted to preserve at any cost, even my self-respect.

Six months later, it was all over. We fought over small things. We strayed from our vows. We lied and betrayed each other. I wound up living on the streets of Houston for six months. I did drugs, alcohol, and things I'm even less proud about. I couldn't turn to God because I couldn't even face what I'd done, what I'd allowed to happen.

Sure, I had no legal right to stop her. It was her body, her choice, her reproductive right, so I did nothing. What else could I have done?

I could have argued for the life of my child. I could have insisted that this was wrong, no matter what the court said. I could have shown her my pain.

I could have just asked her. Even a simple “Please don't do this” out loud.

Anything but nothing.

It took me years to come back to the church and forgiveness. If you're in this position, men, don't wait. It took me too long, but now I know that I can never do nothing about this again.

The woman's not the only one who needs healing.  That’s why there’s Project Joseph.