A Prayer Answered - The Defense of the Unborn Act
By Linda A. Prussen-Razzano
Featured Rightgrrl April 1999
October 2, 1999
I am about to get personal; extremely personal, in fact. I want to invite you inside my heart for just a few moments, so that you can see things from my perspective.
When I met my husband 9 years ago, I knew within the first three months of our relationship that he was going to share the rest of my life. Not surprisingly, he admitted to entertaining similar thoughts around the same time. On bended knee, his deep voice cracking nervously, he proposed on Christmas Eve of 1991. We married in grand style in August of 1993.
We approached our life goals in a traditional manner. After our marriage, we saved for our home. After we built our home, we saved for our future. I can still remember celebrating our first Christmas in our new house, sitting quietly, just the two of us, in front of the fireplace, talking about our hopes for the immediate future.
We had been married four years then, had moved across the country and experienced our share of adventures. There were some tough times along the way, some outrageous high points, but always, we maintained an underlying sense that we could do whatever we set our minds to. Our marriage was, and is, based on mutual respect, unfaltering trust, and unfailing love.
With unspoken understanding, we had reached a plateau in our lives. We had our love, our home, our strength, and our faith. We were ready to share our lives with a child.
For two painful years, that wish was unfulfilled. During that time, I fought endometriosis, multiple ovarian cysts, and underwent surgery to extend my chances for conception. The pain accompanying my endometriosis was so acute, it rendered me helpless at least twice a month. I used up precious vacation days as sick days. Each month, I prayed for a baby. Several times, I cried when my period came.
In April of this year, it seemed as if my deepest desire would be fulfilled. I was six weeks late. My EPT was positive. Just a few days later, when I went to my OBGYN for confirmation, my expectations were crushed. Their testing indicated I was not pregnant.
During the physical examination, my doctor's face quirked in surprise. He looked over his shoulder and advised the nurse, "Maybe we need to do a blood test after all." My body believed I was pregnant, but the sonogram revealed no baby. I was forced to take Provera to bring on my cycle again.
This time, I did not weep alone, muffling my tears in towels behind the locked bathroom door. This time, my typically unflappable husband cried with me.
Last month, God finally answered our prayers. My body whispered to me that I was pregnant long before my EPT and my doctor's office confirmed it. I even had a chance to see the little sack, nestled in the dark comfort of my womb, on the sonogram. We are so concerned about the risk of losing this little one, we are taking every precaution. I've never eaten healthier, and my husband has never been more understanding or attentive.
The reason I shared all of this with you is simple: On October 1, 1999, Congress passed the Defense of the Unborn Act, a bill which would allow prosecution against someone who injures a pregnant women and her unborn child. I'm delighted that they passed this bill. After the waiting, praying, testing, surgery, anguish, and heartbreak, this little life inside me is the sole focus of my being. At long last, Congress recognizes the sanctity of my future child.
If some animal were to kill my unborn child in the commission of a crime, they are still killing my child. They are taking from my child all the beautiful things they could have been, all the dreams they could have seen, all the joys they could have known. I love him or her no less because they are inside my womb, than if they were outside my womb. Should this bill become law, I would have some legal recourse for the damage done. As it stands now, I would have empty arms, an empty heart, and no justice whatsoever.
What do I pray for now? A healthy baby, a safe delivery, and passage of a law that, God willing, will never have to be used because innocents are no longer open targets.
This article copyright © 1999 by Linda A. Prussen-Razzano and may not be reproduced in any form without the express written consent of its author. All rights reserved.