From Mike Adams’ column today:
… A few days later at the breakfast table, both Alison and [her husband] Walter wrote a letter. Then, they went and sat on a riverbank. Alison read her letter aloud. “Dear potential person,” she said, “Thank you so much for coming along.” She then started to cry. She wished “it” well, told “it” she hoped “it” found another home, and pulled the blossom off a flower and threw it into the river.
Walter cried, too, as he read his own letter to the aborted fetus. He, too, tossed a flower blossom out into the river. As both Walter and Alisonâ€™s flowers floated away, he said “I hope to God they donâ€™t wash back ashore here.â€ The couple then burned their letters and kept the flower stems to take home, as a reminder of the baby. Alison proclaimed â€œIt was a good ceremony: earth, air, fire, water, and words.”
Although she admitted feeling some grief, Alison said she felt mostly gratitude. “In the days and weeks (and now years) since, I felt a little grief, but mostly gratitude. It wasnâ€™t just the relief of not being forced to give birth (although that was considerable); it was also what the decision did for our marriage.”
Towards the end of “Choosing Us,” I was beginning to wonder why Alison had written her highly personal account. But she put my curiosity to rest in the final paragraph:
” â€¦ (T)he story I most want to tellâ€”and one I have never heardâ€”is of abortion as an intimate part of a coupleâ€™s life together. Our abortion was a love story. Iâ€™d worried that Walter and I were rejecting a gift from the universe. What I discovered, though, was that when we stripped away the distractions of everyday life so that we could make this difficult decision together, it bound us together as surely as if our choice had been differentâ€”and as it turns out, that was the gift.”