A Conflicted Society

I'm going to take a break from the great Jello debate for a moment so I can crawl up on another soapbox.  I have always thought that modern society was conflicted about its children.  The pro-choice advocates would have us adopt their belief that a life does not become a life until...well, until they say it is a life (it has been my experience that the exact moment during gestation when a life becomes a life varies, depending on whom you are speaking with at the time).  The pro-life advocates would have us believe that a life becomes a life at the moment of conception.  I, personally, stand with the pro-lifers on this one.  But that is not my point.  My point is that our society is hypocritical when it comes to dealing with children.  One moment they are a blessing, and the next, a burden. This was illustrated to me in a very powerful way through a couple of unrelated incidents that happened in my life over the past 24 hours.

I am a nurse, and I am currently working from home, collecting statistical data from patient charts from around the country.  Not exactly the "Save the World" job I had hoped for in my nursing school days, but it is definitely serving its purpose in that it is keeping a roof over my head.  It is also making my senior Golden Retriever one very happy dog.  Mommy is home to pet him on the head, toss him a treat, and take him for walks during the day.  It doesn't get much better than that from his point of view.  But I digress (and if you read even a few of my blogs you will find that happens a lot!). This morning, while in training for a particular project, I came across what passes for the definition of a "live birth" according to our training materials:

"A live birth is defined as: the complete expulsion or extraction from the mother of a product of human conception, irrespective of the duration of pregnancy, which, after such expulsion or extraction, breathes or shows any other evidence of life, such as beating of the heart, pulsation of the umbilical cord or definite movement of voluntary muscles, whether or not the umbilical cord has been cut or the placenta is attached."*

Isn't that heartwarming? I can see the Hallmark card now - "Congratulations on the successful expulsion/extraction of your products of conception!".

Really?  Is that what our society sees in the miracle of birth?  The only thing missing from that definition is the word "it".  When "it" breathes.  Or when "it" shows any other evidence of life.  Or when "its" umbilical cord pulses.  What exactly does this say about us?  This definition has depersonalized and dehumanized the entire human birth experience and has turned it into a bit of twisted rhetoric straight from the mouths of the politically correct police. 

Which leads to another question.  When does "it" become a he or a she?  At what point do we accept that this product of conception with its pulsating umbilical cord is, indeed, a human life to be loved, cherished, and protected at all costs?  If we do not value life, where do our values lie?  I've heard people say that we live in a very progressive society.  If this definition is proof of that progress, then, for me, this is one huge step in the wrong direction.

My second illustration demonstrates the exact opposite.  Yesterday I went to the mall to buy a pillow.  I was shopping in a major department store waiting for my husband to come back to the mall to pick me up.  While waiting, I was walking amongst the cosmetic counters (I know I said I had to buy a pillow and they don't generally have those in the cosmetic department, but you can't blame a girl for looking!), I came across a store associate talking to a very distraught couple with two young boys.  Apparently, when they came into the store they had started with three young boys, and one of them was missing.  These people were obviously not from this country, so there was a language barrier, but eventually the store associate was able to get a description of the boy and what he was wearing and his name.

Everything in that store stopped.  The doors to the mall were closed except for a space small enough for one person at a time to go through.  There were store associates posted at every exit while others could be seen walking through the store, searching.  Customers, myself included, stopped their browsing and began systematically combing the aisles of the store.  I kept trying to think like a small boy and found myself looking in dressing rooms, under racks of clothes, and even in the store elevator.  I caught a glimpse of the boy's mom on one of my passes through the kids department, and she had a desperation in her eyes that transcended any language barrier and broke my heart.  It is a look I will not soon forget.

Nearly twenty minutes went by before the boy was found.  Twenty minutes of sheer terror and panic on the part of that boy's family.  Twenty minutes when total strangers abandoned their own pursuits to help look for a little boy so as to avert a tragedy. As a parent, I cannot even begin to imagine what those parents were going through and all the horrible thoughts that must have crossed their minds.  All I can say is that I was praying fervently that the boy would be found unharmed and returned to his family.  Thank God he was!

When my husband came to pick me up from the store, I told him about the little boy and the first words out of his mouth were, "If they hadn't found him, I would have come in and helped."  This is one of the many reasons I love this man.  Now, a lot of people, in fact, MOST people, are probably thinking, "Well of course!  We must leave no stone unturned when looking for a poor missing child."  And this, in my mind, is where the conflict starts.  This exact same society that would exhaust every resource possible to find a missing child (which is how it should be) can define the birth of that child in such a way as to rob him of all his humanity (which is how it should not be).  Am I the only one who finds this to be hypocritical?

Of course, as is usual when I climb up on my soapbox, I have no answers.  No magic cures for what I see as life's inconsistencies.  But, just maybe, the next time a friend or loved one announces the upcoming birth of their child, we can skip the "successful expulsion/extraction of your products of conception" aisle at the Hallmark store and go straight to the "congratulations on the birth of your beautiful son or daughter" department.  Let's make it like it should be.

* Note: This definition comes straight from the McGraw-Hill Concise Dictionary of Modern Medicine. © 2002 by The McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.