The belly button means that, as independent and self-sufficient as you may now be, at one point you were so intimately connected to another person that your time together left a permanent mark for all to see. This mark is not a scar or a blemish, or a misguided tattoo choice, but something common to every man or woman you’ll ever meet. It is a sign of your innate need for others, a need that, while it changes and develops, does not leave you.

We all have one. They don’t all look the same, and they don’t all stay the same, but they all mean the same thing: we have a permanent, central mark connecting us to the woman who carried us, who chose to let us live, who delivered us and who, only then, allowed us to be separated from her, but not without leaving her signature.

At this point the story diverges greatly. Some of our mothers welcomed us with tears of joy and open hearts and arms. Others struggled through post-partum depression and the crushing weight of responsibility that was now theirs. Others cried tears of pain as they handed us over, physically or legally, to a nurse, foster parent, or adoptive parent. Others kept us but cared for us badly, unwilling or unable to give up addictions, dangerous anger, or a perilous home situation.

Regardless of where our life story leads after the arrival of the belly button, though, we could not have had any of the chances or choices we have had without that first step. Without a mother willing to carry us for as long as we were willing to stay inside, our belly button would be a mere dent in a tiny discarded body, long gone, if not entirely forgotten.

Our belly buttons, silly and strange and ticklish as they may be, signify a much deeper truth about ourselves: we could not have gotten here on our own. To now decide to make the choice of whether to grant a belly button to another human being who is completely dependent, at least temporarily, on his or her mother, would be arrogance beyond measure. Whether you are a doctor, a counselor, a nurse, a mother, a father, a friend or a grandparent, that is simply not a choice you get to make.

Human life depends on dependence. To stomp on that dependence is to irreparably violate a sacred cycle. To suggest that dependence or a need for others makes one less valuable is to forget your own belly button.

There is a painful beauty in the incredible generosity and outpouring of love seen for this tiny baby, who was saved by the quick and decisive actions of medical staff.

There is also a troubling disconnect in the paradox of a medical system that (rightly) fights to save two lives, and a criminal justice system that recognizes only one. Had Gagné died as the result of violent crime, not in the vicinity of a hospital as she did, her baby would also have died, and then that little girl would not have counted.

A life that so obviously counts, that so obviously matters to the thousand-plus people moved to immediately donate to her future, THAT life would not have mattered if she had died somewhere, somehow, else. This is the story of babies like Molly, whose mother Cassie was murdered at 7 months pregnant with no medical staff around to save her viable baby girl.

It is a testament to our medical system that those on scene responded without hesitation, knowing that the pre-born baby deserved care as much as her mother.  It is to our legislature’s and justice system’s shame that no safeguards exist to protect pre-born children from crime, and no consequences exist for taking the life of a pre-born child through crime.

This oversight is even more inexcusable when we know from national polling that close to 70% of Canadians support harsher sentences for criminals who take the life of a pregnant woman. The response to this baby’s birth in Quebec City supports this, as people rally instantly around the beauty of life even in such a dark circumstance.

MP Cathay Wagantall has introduced a bill in the legislature that aims to address this void in our justice system. Bill C-225 recognizes that, no matter where or how a pre-born child loses her mother, she still deserves the right to life her mother wanted her to have. The life that is lost is worth something, and deserves recognition and justice.

The baby girl delivered from tragedy in Quebec City is rightfully treasured and supported, and we wish nothing but the best for her and her father as they face this life without Marie-Pier Gagné. Above all, we are thankful she was given life, not considered unworthy because she still resided in her mother’s womb at the time of the accident. May her life remind us all of the beauty and value of life no matter one’s size, ability, or location.

Bill C-225 was introduced in February 2016 in response to a void in Canadian law that offers no recognition to the preborn child of a woman who has chosen to carry that child. This devalues both that woman and her choice. Statistics Canada reports that domestic violence affects more than 10,000 pregnant women per year. This law would be a step in addressing violence against pregnant women by making it clear that her choice to carry her child is respected and protected.

According to the independent poll, nearly 70% of Canadians say that they support a law that would make it a separate crime to harm or cause the death of a preborn child while harming a pregnant woman. Cassie and Molly’s Law has also been publicly endorsed by the Native Women’s Association of Canada and the Canadian Resource Centre for Victims of Crime.

MP Wagantall was encouraged by the clear results of the poll, stating in a press release that, “Ultimately a comprehensive strategy to end violence against women must include many targeted initiatives and legal reforms, including new penalties for those who target pregnant women.” Her proposed legislation will create a new offence that would apply when crimes committed against pregnant women result in the injury or death of their preborn child. The bill also codifies into law pregnancy as an aggravating factor for the purposes of sentencing.

ACTION: We have two new Simple Mails to send to your MP drawing their attention to these poll results and asking them to support Cassie & Molly’s Law with their vote. Please take 10 minutes of your time to send one of these letters, or, better yet, give your MP a phone call!

You can see the full poll results, including the questions asked, at the link below.

Today, Another Day

Today I began, just a wee little thing

You don’t know I’m around, your little offspring

I’m really so small, but all of me is here

My genetic makeup already so clear

I’m a part of him and a part of you

My biggest wish, that you carry me through

Today, another day, I am four weeks old

Maybe you haven’t even yet been told

That I’m growing inside of you; but I’m still me

Its already determined if I’m a he or a she

The colour of my eyes, or if I’ll be tall

All of it established even though I’m so small

Today, another day, I am eight weeks old

Hopefully to you, I’m a sight to behold

My tiny little body has tripled in size

My miniature heart beating out its reprise

My fingers and toes have started to form

As I lay here inside you, so cozy and warm

Today, another day, I am twelve weeks old

My vital organs are functioning so bold

I can kick and stretch, but you won’t feel me yet

Although I might make your stomach upset

I can close my fingers and curl my toes

I hope, for me, its life that you chose

 Today, another day, I am sixteen weeks old

I’m living inside you, you’re my stronghold

I’m safe in here, you’ll protect me right?

‘Cause I’m too little to defend myself in a fight

It’s you I need, as I continue to grow

And daddy too, to be my hero

Today, another day, I am twenty weeks old

You may have felt me as I find my foothold

My delicate chest now rises and falls

I’m practicing to breathe for outside these walls

My little mouth is swallowing more

And my senses are blooming, in case you’re unsure

Today, another day, I am twenty-four weeks old

My body fat is growing to protect me from cold

My lips and eyes are clear to see

My brain is growing, so rapidly

My lungs are developing and now I can hear

So talk to me please, so I know that you’re near

Today, another day, I am twenty-eight weeks old

I can hear your voice, have you been told?

I can open my eyes and turn my head

I’m getting fatter, or so they said

I sleep and wake in regular spaces

As long as I find the most comfortable places

Today, another day, I am thirty-two weeks old

A round little basketball is what I’ve been called

I can tell the difference between dark and light

My legs are growing to give me some height

My hair is growing and I’m gaining weight

As you count down the weeks until my due date

Today, another day, I am thirty-six weeks old

Your energy is probably starting to fold

I’m gaining about twenty-eight grams a day

Filling out your tummy where I don’t plan to stay

No doubt that I poke you with my elbows and feet

I’m getting so excited as we prepare to meet

Today, another day, I am forty weeks old

My impatience to see you cannot be controlled

I’m fully developed, past ready to come

Although I might spend some more time in here, mum

My head is down and I’ll be on my way soon

Apparently its time to leave this cocoon

Today, another day, today I am

I’ve grown so much since I weighed less than a gram

I think that it’s clear, I’m part of a plan

That my life has mattered from the day I began

The doctor was right when he made the great call

That a person’s a person, no matter how small.

MyCanada is working with supporters to install a national monument to Canada’s unborn children. The bronze sculpture, created by Canadian-born artist Timothy Schmaltz, features an angel weeping over an empty crib. Titled “I Knew You in the Womb”, this will be a beautiful testimony to the value of the unborn. The organization hopes it “will also be a place for Canadians to pray, mourn and pay their respects to the deceased unborn.”

While valid arguments can be made on both sides of the debate about the use of graphic images depicting aborted children, this article focuses on non-graphic visuals, and words. This could be a sign on the side of the road or a display of crosses in a local farmer’s field. It could even be a window decal on the vehicle in front of you, which, interestingly enough, recently raised the ire of someone who took the time to message us as to the inappropriateness of exposing the truth of abortion to “young readers”.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, it’s going to take a lot of words for us to convey the horror of abortion adequately to our children.

Or is it? We drove past a display of crosses shortly after I began working in the pro-life movement, before we had talked much with our young children about what “pro-life” even meant.

“What are all those crosses for?”

I suppose I could have made up anything, but if our children can’t count on us for truthful information, who will they count on? So I said, “Those are to remember babies who were made but then never born because their parents didn’t want them.”

“What do you mean they weren’t born?”

“Some people aren’t ready to have a baby, or don’t want to have a baby, or don’t want a baby that might have something wrong with it, so when they find out they’re going to have one, they go to the doctor and have it killed so they aren’t pregnant anymore.”

Silence from the back seat of the van.

Tentatively, “Why? Why would a mom want to kill her own baby?”

And then, “Did you do that with any of your babies? Did you want to do that with any of us?”

And then, “Can you still decide you don’t want a baby anymore? Like if you didn’t want Theo anymore, would you bring him to a doctor and he would be killed?”

This isn’t easy material.

But as I stated last week, children understand abortion very easily, and very well. They understand that it is essentially a story of disposable children, and that understandably horrifies them. Talking about abortion with our children is a wake-up call to stop lying to ourselves. I had worked quietly in the pro-life movement for months before I had this conversation with my children. It took only 10 minutes in the car with the music turned down to make me understand the issue more than any book, article, or legal history ever could.

How Fearfully, How Wonderfully Made

How fearfully, how wonderfully made!

Beyond a shadow, or a shade,

Human, in every function, every way,

My Lord, my God! With my own DNA.

He formed and nurtured me, at every stage!

My life is written on His page,

Made me with purpose, yes indeed

From first to last, I’m made complete.

Who doubts the very will of God?

Then, why should we react distraught?

When we’re found knit within a womb

As He wills it! Let none assume,

That we are made some innert cells

A tumorous miscreant blob that dwells,

An abstract nuisance, quite remote…

Whose handiwork does this denote?

Who formed each delicate little toe?

Cells multiplied, each one just so?

A mouth, bright eyes, small shell­like ears

Heart, nerves, a brain with sense, that hears?

Oh Life… A treasure, each one so,

It’s by His grace that we may grow

And bring our joys in Him complete,

Surprising lives, with love replete.

A. Blokhuis

April 5/16

The virus is spreading quickly in parts of the world, and the World Health Organization estimates as many as 4 million people may become infected before they are able to get it under control.

However, to use this sad circumstance as an excuse to push abortion shows exactly what is wrong with abortion.  Abortion treats symptoms, not causes. It solves nothing, and allows real problems to continue unhindered. Abortion does not slow or stop the spread of a vicious disease, it adds to the carnage. 

By fighting for abortion at a time such as this, the abortion movement reveals it’s true nature.  One article goes so far as to call increased abortions the potential “silver lining” of the Zika virus, the side effect they all wanted to happen before the virus even took hold. To continue to suggest they fight for women, while capitalizing on a massive viral outbreak threatening maternal and infant health, is unconscionable. 

]]> https://test.weneedalaw.ca/2016/01/taking-care-of-lily/ Fri, 22 Jan 2016 01:53:26 +0000 http://wpsb2.dev.hearkenmedia.com/2016/01/21/taking-care-of-lily/ They had just received the news that two-year-old Lily, their only child, was diagnosed with autism.  After receiving advice from a specialist, they scheduled an appointment at the clinic where she would receive the lethal injection that would end her suffering. The day arrived and they passed Lily to the attendant who took her away while her parents paced anxiously in the waiting room. An hour passed. Then another. Finally, a nurse came and informed them that the injection had not resulted in Lily’s immediate death and their daughter was now receiving palliative care until her time of passing. Would they like to come and spend these last hours with her while she writhed in anticipation of impending death? 

Lily’s parents were devastated. Nothing had prepared them for this traumatic experience, and they will not leave the hospital without this terrible memory following them. 

This week, researchers at the University of Montreal released the results of a study showing that, between the years 2000 and 2012, similar traumatic events had been experienced by 218 families who decided their child’s life was not worth living. The only difference? Lily’s parents wanted her life ended two years after she had been born while the 218 children reported on in the University of Montreal study were still some weeks from being born before being delivered prematurely and then left to die. 

The National Post covered the results of the study with an article that began with, “Better testing for birth defects has given rise to an unusual phenomenon: growing rates of abortion ending in ‘accidental live birth’”.  It also suggests that this raises “difficult ethical issues.” 

No one would accept that the manner in which (the fictional) Lily’s life was ended ought to be legal. Yet we live in a country where no child has protection prior to his or her birth, even if they are old enough to live outside the womb, as the 218 children in Québec were. How is it that an eight-inch journey down the birth canal magically transforms us into human beings worthy of protection? Why is Canada the only democracy in the world that affords no protection to the smallest members of the human family?

Dr. Natalie Auger, lead author of the University of Montreal study, recommends that new clinical guidelines be developed to ensure that parents are counselled before bringing their pre-born children to the clinic. She is concerned that parents are not fully prepared for the possibility that their baby might be born alive and would like them to be better prepared for these traumatic experiences. Her response is incredibly callous, and illogical. It has been said that asociety will be judged on how it treats its weakest members. In Canada, it is perfectly legal to kill a fully developed child, provided he or she is on the other side of the birth canal. This injustice will only be corrected when our elected lawmakers stop treating pre-born children as a political liability and ensure they receive the same legal protections as born Canadians. 

There is no law made by those dead
God’s law is for the Living.
And when a birth is imminent
A living child’s a given.
Is it too hard to understand?
And need I explain further?
When life through birth is close at hand.
To kill such? It’s plain murder!

The last time I wrote Ottawa
To our dear ‘Justice’ man,
I heard the same as what I saw,
That ‘Justice’ is a sham.
One smiled a lot propped in a chair
Alas, that man is dead,
I pleaded, man, do you not care?
Dead men can’t hear what’s said.

I looked and I was horrified
This man, carved out of stone?
A glacier, worse, he’s ossified,
No longer flesh and bone.
“Fear not” said he, “Life’s well and good,
What you don’t understand
My world’s unfolding as it should
Utopia close at hand.”

Dead men, without a future
Repose without the Law.
They, in their state of stupor, Romans 11:8
With eyes that never saw,
With ears, yet never hearing
Truth’s facts of life deny…
Without sense, life, nor fearing,
In death alone, to die!

A. Blokhuis
April 25/15