When You Choose To Abort, You Alter The Course Of History

So says Julia Gorin, self described as "religiously illiterate," whose life experience in Soviet Russia has provided her a very unique outlook on the "blessing" of a pregnancy.

Like most Soviet-era fetuses conceived in Russia by couples who were already parents, I was scheduled for abortion as a matter of course. In a society where abortion was the only form of birth control, where men didn't trouble themselves to "pull out," and some women had double-digit abortion counts, often the appointment would be scheduled before a couple even stopped to remember that they wanted a second child. My husband, also a second-born, and I were lucky to have been two such afterthoughts, each brought into the world thanks to a parent's change of heart.

Julia takes considerable issue with the feminist attitude to hammer home the glory of abortion.

The lessons of my family's experience are sharply at odds with frivolous campaigns like Ms. magazine's recent call on readers to sign a petition stating: "I have had an abortion. I publicly join the millions of women in the United States who have had an abortion in demanding a repeal of laws that restrict women's reproductive freedom."

In America, there is room to judge, despite what the "sanctity of choice" crowd wants us to believe. Yet rather than do that, my intention is to plant a seed of consideration that may otherwise never occur to America's reluctant with-child women and even girls.

Offering some personal testimony and wisdom gained from her own family, Julia makes the supreme practical point in regard to having [and keeping] children.

Rather than debate what it is we're killing, we should consider what we may be saving – for our sakes as much as for "its" own. When you choose to abort, you alter the course of history. While the child up for abortion may or may not be the next Einstein, saving his or her life could one day save yours.

Her final comments for reluctant mothers-to-be:

We don't have a crystal ball, but there's someone who does, and there is a reason for every stork he sends along. I am religiously illiterate, but I have come to understand on the most visceral level why pregnancies are called "blessings" – even if the blessing comes in disguise.

For all the reluctant mothers-to-be out there, you should know that when you're having even a momentary second thought, someone you can't see is whispering in your ear. Fortunately for my husband's and my families, on the third occasion our parents listened.

It's worth reading all of Julia's story.