GO WITH ME BACK IN TIME ABOUT 75 YEARS. See the little girl, that’s me, playing paper dolls in the room next to the kitchen where mom and her friend are talking. I hear certain words – “…baby was tiny…about two inches… … down the toilet…” Fragments of conversation from which I concluded someone had a baby and dropped it down the toilet where it died. I knew nothing about sex, pregnancy, birth, miscarriage; but I knew about toilets – the outhouse with a hole that held disgusting, stinking human waste. I didn’t think I should have overheard what was said, so I was horrified but remained mum.
I was horrified again last night when I saw that a federal judge in Texas has prohibited a bill that would require hospitals and clinics to give proper burial or cremation to aborted fetuses. As it stands now, fetuses are disposed of as “biological material waste.” Mixed in with the horrid cancers, infected intestines, and other poisonous body parts! Dropped down the hole in the outhouse!
Horrified at eight; horrified at eighty+! But no longer mum. Biological material waste? They are babies! Deserving of somebody’s grief! Generic words serve only to try to neutralize the act! Political cowards!
Well, I have ended up yelling, haven’t I? This is enough for today but I warn you I am no longer mum.