Memories before Birth

I have mentioned this topic before, but in view of the recent change in the New York state law regarding late abortions, I want to expand on it.

Both of my biological children claimed to have memories of being in my womb.  Both expressed these ideas between the ages of 2 and 3, and then apparently forgot them as they got older.

My daughter and I were looking at a magazine and talking about the pictures when she was about 2 and ½.  We came to a picture of a baby in the womb.  I said, “This is a picture of a baby in the mommy’s tummy.  The baby floats in water in there.”  She replied, “I remember.  I scratched my fingers to get out.”

This was startling, because late in the pregnancy, I often felt a fluttering sensation as though her fingers were tickling me from the inside.  I had always imagined that if the bag of waters broke, it would be near the opening of the cervix, but one night as I was trying to go to sleep, I felt a popping sensation on the right side of my abdomen in the area in which I normally felt the moving fingers.  I felt the warm liquid flowing down my right side toward the cervical opening.  I grabbed a towel and stuffed it between my legs just in time to catch the gush of the amniotic fluid.  Did she really remember this?

In my son’s case, there was no picture which triggered his comment.  One day, he marched into the kitchen and out of the clear blue declared, “When I was in your tummy, I could not hear your voice, but music fell on my head.”  I probably should have asked a follow-up question, but I was so surprised that I just stood there trying to wrap my head around his statement.  He did not describe this sensation in a way that made it likely he had heard a comment by someone else.  It was as though, he had felt a sensation in the womb, which he now recognized we call “music.”  During the pregnancy, I often sat down at the piano and played and sang.  I continued to sing in a choir and sing solos during that time.  He apparently could not hear distinct words, but he must have felt vibrations which were pleasant.

Suppose instead of pleasant vibrations, a child feels an assault that terminates his life?

I have read the argument that a woman should not be made to continue a pregnancy that is discovered not to be viable in the last trimester.  Just because it is not viable, does not mean the child cannot feel pain!  If my daughter knew she was trying to get out, and my son recognized music, might not any child feel agony as life is snuffed out?  Wouldn’t it be better, if the pregnancy was allowed to continue…perhaps with an early delivery?  If the baby didn’t start to breathe, his end would at least be peaceful.  If he lived briefly, he could be held and know love for a brief time. 

There is always the possibility that doctors are wrong too.  I know of a beautiful and intelligent college graduate, whose mother was advised to consider abortion.  I was over 40 when pregnant with my son.  I had to repeatedly refuse amniocentesis and was forced into genetic counselling.  The medical group said they had to be sure I wanted to continue the pregnancy.  Conditions which are treatable prenatally are found through ultrasound which I did not refuse.  The only reason for amniocentesis would have been if I was considering an abortion.  The pregnancy which was by medical personnel considered to be “high risk” due to “advanced maternal age” resulted in an exceptional son.  Doctors are not gods.  They are not always right.

How I wish music fell on every unborn baby’s head and with it the blessing of a mother’s love.  Every child may not be able to verbalize it before the memory is forgotten, but every child may be able to feel it.  Why run the risk of inflicting terror on a helpless baby who is your own flesh and blood?

Thoughts on "My Money"

I was reminded this morning in church of an experience I had over 50 years ago.  One of the assistant pastors announced an upcoming class on Financial Freedom, and it made me think how my attitude about money has developed over the years.

When I was in nursing school in the Chicago area, we could earn money by working on our days off.  We were classified as “nursing technicians.”  I don’t remember what the pay rate was, but in those days, I was dirt poor and trying to save money for my intent of going to college after nursing school.  Of course, nurses do have to work on Sundays, but I made it a practice never to work on a Sunday if I had a choice in the matter.  So, I might work on Saturday when I had the weekend off, but not on Sunday.  I would go to church faithfully on Sundays.  I got to church on a bus that the church sent around to local schools/colleges to gather up students who didn’t have cars.

After working as a nursing technician one busy Saturday, I went to the supervisor’s office to sign out.  She pretty much begged me to work again on Sunday.  She said they were going to be very short-staffed, and she would really appreciate it if I could work again the next day.  I breathed a quick prayer and said, “yes.”  As I thought about this later discussing it with the Lord, I decided that the Lord was asking me to give the pay for that day to him. 

At the time, my church was trying to raise funds to replace the bus that picked us up.  It was developing problems, and a new one needed to be purchased.  A well-to-do member of the church had agreed that if the congregation could raise half the needed amount, he would donate the other half.  When I got my paycheck for working that Sunday, I donated that day’s pay to the bus fund.

Several days later, the pastor of the church contacted me.  He thought I should know that it was my donation that tipped the amount over the halfway point and triggered the matching donation.  Giving that amount could have been viewed as a sacrifice on my part, but it honestly was not hard to do.  I felt very comfortable with the notion that God was going to provide for me.  He allowed me the delight of seeing that my contribution, though relatively small, was significant.

I have never argued with God about my money.  In fact, I don’t view it as “my money.”  Everything I have comes from his kind hand.  I am allowed to hold it temporarily and use it for him.  Having this underlying philosophy changes one’s attitude toward personal finances.  It eliminates anxiety and promotes a grateful heart.  If both members of a couple have this attitude, it totally avoids conflict over money.  I have seen His provision for me and us over and over.  He has met my needs and then some!