I’m still pissed off about the things that were said yesterday. Pro-choice doesn’t mean pro-abortion. I am pro-choice, and although I would prefer that people CHOOSE to have their babies, I still feel that they should have the CHOICE. I wish that I could talk to every woman that is planning on having an abortion and adopt her baby. But I can’t. But what boils my blood more than I thought would be possible is the fact that people want to take what belongs to ME…my pain, my son’s death, my loss, my misery…and pervert it to support their cause. How dare they? I understand that they believe in what they are trying to force on me, and that’s fine. But if they want to sell a dead baby story to support that cause, they can have their own dead baby. They can’t have mine. They can’t have you, Carter. You are mine. You are my son. I cry for you every day, not them. And for them to try to pervert your death and memory feels like…a sort of rape. I don’t know how else to explain it. You are mine, not theirs. And for them to try to tell me what to do with my child, with your memory…it’s not right. I can’t be the only mom that has gone through this and feels this way. I value babies, and I wish I could take all the little babies that are abandoned or aborted or murdered every day and keep them and love them. But I am still pro-choice. I hate abortion, but it is necessary. Even before it was legal, it happened. But instead of taking only one life, it often resulted in two deaths because it was not done safely. And your death has nothing to do with abortion. I did not want you to die. I don’t even understand how someone could feasibly make that comparison. You were loved and wanted. You were my sweet boy. And I miss you so much. I love you so much, Carter.
Here Without You,