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The Setup
Societal pressures to abort.
Date: 6/15/2005 2:41:57 PM ( 19 y ) ... viewed 2083 times In the Newpaper the other day, a physician was commenting on the reasons why people come in for plastic surgery. His opinion was roughly as follows: "People who come in for surgery, think they are doing this out of their own decisions but really they are acting out of societal pressures." I have heard alot of people say to those who regret their abortions something to the effect of : " Well, this was your choice just take responsibility for your actions and stop blaming other people for your problems and move on with your life; and dont even think about trying to limit another persons right to choose by your negative experiences regarding your own decision making process." But let us look at some true life "setups" to abort.
When I was in the first grade it was our privelege as first graders to line the aisles of the church for the Annual May Crowning- one little child at the entrance to each pew. It was rehearsal. The Church was empty, cool and dim. We were all in our positions and an exquisitely (SP?) beautiful womans voice began to waft down from the choir- singing Ave Maria. My little mind was all a wonder at the tone and melody and my little arms and legs were covered in goosebumps. The child next to me was so overcome, she collapses to the floor in a dead faint. Such was my first encounter with the wonder of Mary.
At home, I was encouraged and conditioned to venture out from the girl norm into boys territory. When asked what I wanted to be and responding a nurse, the responce was, " you dont want to be a nurse all they do is clean dirty bedpans and that is disgusting, no be a doctor." At christmas, I recieved boys bikes and hotwheels. It was the 70's and I was a little gender experiment. Later, I was brainwashed to do something with my life, and given the notion that I could do whatever I wanted. But that really was not true- I could do whatever I wanted as long it was not the classical female undertakings. Later, all I heard was the mantra, "dont get pregnant dont get pregnant." Underage pregnant girls were regularly pointed out to me with the comment, "See, dont get pregnant, you'll ruin your life, dont't get pregnant." By the time high school came, I, being a just blossoming rose was disposed to the dark dungeun of an all-girl priory high- the better to keep the boys at bay I figured-and not get pregnant.
The marian hymns at school? those were discontinued, I never heard another Ave Maria again, and I dont remember another May crowning event during the remaining 7 years. In the 5th grade, our teacher regularly led us into church to sing tunes like: " they will know we are christians by our love, by our love, yes they'll know we are christians by our love. We will walk with each other, we will walk hand in hand...." and other similar baloney. The hymns probably were more communist then anything else.
By the time I was in jr. high the thought of Mary, the Mother of God bothered me.
Who was she? I asked myself. I answered myself: "no one, I mean what did she do? she didnt do anything she was just a mother. Big deal." And more and more the thought of Mary just bothered me. She was so different then me. I thought to myself. " Mary probably likes those sweet, quiet types of girl, I am not like that, Mary probably doesnt even like me in fact I am sure she hates me because I am not particularly nice"
Sure enough, I left the Church a few years later when I was 15. I remember the moment exactly. I was attending the 11:00 am Sunday Mass by myself. It was a beautiful mild sunny day, and it was very crowded inside. In the pew in front of me was a nieghbor, she was only maybe 5 years older but she already had a brood of children. I had a feeling of aversion. During mass we were standing up and the people seemed to me like dumb crudes. I felt within me a desire to prostrate myself before the greatness of God and make a gesture of humility. I told myself if there was really a God we were praying to then the people would not be acting like this- so ordinary. I told myself there must be no God then, people probably only go to mass to continue some long held family tradition. Walking out of the church, I felt ridiculous and humiliated, I was wearing a flowered cap sleeve dress and must have been a vision of loveliness- being a young virgin on the verge of womanhood- but I was filled with chagrin. Sitting on a bench, near the childrens playground, waiting for someone to pick me up I told myself I wont be coming back anymore.
Anyway, I considered to myself, it seemed I wasnt really expected to go to mass at home, in fact it seemed my attendance had surprised my mother, I probably would more closely meet her expecttions of me if I did not attend, I thought. True to life, she never once ever mentioned my lapse from the church, it was almost like she was relieved, like the pressure was off.
At home, I removed the gold framed Degas ballerina picture from my room and took down the black wooden crucifix from above my door. I told myself while doing so- "Why did I ever put this up in the beginning? I was sure strange" I might have
even chuckled over my original actions in putting it up. It didnt take long for me to plunge into a dark depression soon after.
Fait Accompli- home conditioning, college-prep high school, and human weakness had succeeded in divorcing a young blossoming women from her own natural God given destiny as wife and mother. If only I had been given a true understanding of the value of motherhood and been taught to pray to Mary- she could have helped me to have true confidence and develop into Gods plans for me and not to feel shame at being a women. Slouching over to hide my breasts.
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