06/25/2025
You say you’re pro-life.
You post the ultrasounds.
You march.
You rally.
You cry out for the unborn… and you should.
Every life matters, even in the womb. No one’s arguing that.
But I’ve watched you go silent the minute that baby takes its first breath.
Where are you when that same baby is born exposed to substances?
When mama’s still using and daddy’s still disappearing?
Where are you when the hospital calls CPS before they even cut the cord?
Where are you when that “precious life” is screaming in a stranger’s arms
because the world decided they were worth saving,
but not worth fighting for once they were born?
You call yourself pro-life.
But you’re not.
You’re pro-birth.
You’re here for the pregnancy.
But not the aftermath.
Not the night terrors.
Not the broken families.
Not the trauma that doesn’t go away just because a child survives it.
That baby grows up.
That baby enters foster care.
That baby starts biting in preschool, hoarding food,
rocking themselves to sleep in a twin bed that isn’t theirs,
and suddenly they’re not “a life worth protecting” anymore.
They’re a problem to solve.
A placement to fill.
A number in a broken system.
You were pro-life when they were tiny and quiet and unborn.
But now they’re loud.
Now they’re hurting.
Now they cuss.
Now they flinch when someone raises their voice.
Now they don’t say thank you.
And all of a sudden,
you’re “not called.”
You’re “not equipped.”
You “can’t expose your family to that.”
Don’t stand on the steps of a capitol and cry out for the unborn
if you’re not willing to open your door to the ones who made it here.
Don’t call it pro-life
if your compassion has an expiration date.
Because if you only care until they’re born,
that’s not pro-life.
That’s pro-birth.
Being pro-life means fighting for the whole life.
The whole story.
The whole broken, beautiful, messy, miraculous story.
Jesus didn’t stop loving us when we became complicated.
He didn’t walk away when it got hard.
He didn’t say “this is too much.”
He stayed.
He wept.
He bore it.
You say you’re pro-life?
Then get in the mess.
Step into the courtroom.
Deliver groceries.
Support the reunifying mom.
Foster the child who’s been moved five times.
Adopt the teen who’s almost aged out.
Become the safe place after the trauma.
Because real pro-life work begins after the birth.
When life gets loud.
When it gets inconvenient.
When it needs you to love without expecting anything back.
So don’t just say you’re pro-life.
Be pro-love.
Be pro-healing.
Be pro-child.
And for the love of God…
don’t call it “God’s will”
when it’s just your comfort talking.
