A Story

I once heard the story of a Mongolian woman who, over 30 years ago was faced with a decision.

She was young and newly married. Her young husband was a university student and they didn't have a place of their own yet so they lived with relatives. They were poor, but in love and, when they heard the doctor's words, their little world felt like it was crumbling.

Abortion. She would have to have one. She was sick, barely off the operating table when they conceived. Her one kidney was failing. She had had surgery once before. She was born with a bad kidney and as a small girl had surgery to have it removed. Only the surgeon mistakenly removed the one functioning kidney and left her with the damaged one. Oh, how she cursed the doctors now.

Ten years later, after another surgery to try and repair the damaged kidney, she became pregnant. With her surgery scar barely healed, she was advised by the then communist doctors to have an abortion, and even though it was illegal under communist law, they would provider her with the permission slip needed in order to have it done. This was almost unheard of.

The young couple was devastated but saw no other option. She got the paperwork she needed and went to the abortionist. Not one single person told her not to. Not one person spoke on the behalf of her unborn baby. No one but God.

She sat in the abortionist's office, nervously picking at the piece of paper that explained the reasons behind the abortion she was about to have. Her doctor told her he would have nothing to do with her unless she aborted the baby. Her family was afraid for her life and she knew they felt the same way. Still, she was uneasy at the thought of an abortion. Wasn't this baby given to her? Wasn't he/she meant to have a chance at life? Though she didn't know about God, she felt that some "heavenly being" had bestowed this baby upon her and she felt that it would be wrong to end the pregnancy. She didn't care how sick she was.

She felt anger welling up inside. Wasn't it these same doctors who just a few short years before risked her life by taking the wrong kidney? Why did she have to listen to them? It didn't seem fair that they played around with her life like that. She wouldn't let them! She stood up, tore the slip of paper in two and left and never returned.

People thought she was crazy, especially when the stitches from her kidney surgery began to open and ooze. She couldn't go back to the doctors-- they would no doubt force her to have the abortion. She had no choice but to avoid them during the remaining 9 months. Her mind was made up. She would do whatever it took to make sure this baby lived.

After a painful and fearful pregnancy, she she did something no one but the "heavenly being" thought she could do-- she gave life to a little boy. A little boy who would grow up and be one of the first to fight against the now legalized abortion in the country of Mongolia. Through his poems, songs and sermons countless babies and women would be saved. Little did she know, she was giving life to her own grandchildren. Thirty-one years ago TODAY she gave birth to my husband.

Happy Birthday, Love. You were surely meant to be.

I love you!