OMG. We Are Killing Babies: Society Has Two Choices: The Baby Lives or the Baby Dies
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About this ebook
With an introductory fable and photographs both of fetal development and first- and second-trimeseter aborted infants, OMG. We Are Killing Babies aims to inform so that abortion can be limited wherever and whenever possible.
J.R. Thompson
Tasmanian-born JR Thompson utilizes the gift of Multiple Sclerosis to live more vibrantly and creatively. She has an eighteen-year-old daughter, Aisling, and together with her husband Heath, they operate a whole foods store and raise their new baby boy, Fletcher.
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Reviews for OMG. We Are Killing Babies
3 ratings2 reviews
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Unreadable. Poorly researched. A total waste of paper and digital real estate.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Oh look a man wrote a book opposing abortion. Abortion is healthcare and a woman has every right to decide what happens to her own body. I would give this -5 stars if I could.
Book preview
OMG. We Are Killing Babies - J.R. Thompson
OMG! We Are Killing Babies
Copyright © 2019 by J.R. Thompson
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN (Print): 978-1-54396-915-3
ISBN (eBook): 978-1-54396-916-0
OMG! We Are Killing Babies
Prologue
Introduction
Chapter 1: Tales From The Deep Dark Forest
Chapter 2: BLUF
—Bottom Line Up Front
Chapter 3: Definitions
Chapter 4: Positions In Their Own Words
Chapter 5: Surveys And Statistics; A Sampling
Chapter 6: The Law
Chapter 7: [More] Bottom Lines
Chapter 8: Photographic Evidence
A Call To Action
End Notes
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Prologue
While enjoying several books ¹ by Bill O’Reilly addressing the deaths of some well-known personalities, I was struck with the dismal thought that there have been many more unknown persons who have died without such recognition or even widespread notice. Since having that thought, I’ve been burdened with the idea that I’m somehow supposed to say something about killing babies.
Some would suggest that this thought was divinely planted. I do know that there is a Sovereign Creator God who is the Master of the universe and King of kings, and nothing happens that He doesn’t cause or allow to happen. I’m certain He did not cause the evil of elective abortion, but I’m burdened by the question of how long He will allow it before He says, Enough!
The fact that I can’t ignore this burden and the fact that I know God exists led me to conclude that there is indeed a divine nudge for me to get this message in print. As of March 2019, it has been almost six years since I’ve been doing a Jonah . . . that is, avoiding this task. So I thought I’d better get with it before the big fish comes.
I know there are some (many?) who aren’t burdened at all by these millions of premature deaths. Some don’t accept the premise that there is a supreme being who would care about—let alone control or allow—ANY human decision or action, good or bad. Still others might hold strong views on one side or the other based mainly on their political affiliation. I believe there are many more who aren’t sure where they stand—or they do know, but they are afraid to say. Hopefully this little book will nudge those folks to do something!
Since I began writing, the news of loosened legal restrictions on late-term (third trimester) abortions has been in all media streams. Then, on February 25, 2019, the US Senate failed to pass a bill that would require doctors to save the lives of infants born alive during abortions. ² The results of that vote shocked some and outraged others. Perhaps we’re beginning a period of awakening. I pray so.
Introduction
Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, The fruit of the womb is a reward.¹
Why write a book with such a provocative, if not controversial, title? The short answer is the title says what I’m thinking. It is the clearest way I know to communicate my belief that abortions kill babies. And, most importantly, we
implies that the occurrence of abortion in the US requires the active and/or passive cooperation of many. Believing those things left me with a conviction that something must be done . . . and a conviction that I have been guilty of not doing enough. Truly, there have been many who have been and who are still working hard to illuminate, educate, and communicate about this issue. But we need more.
As I’m writing this, there is news of legislation that would enable more liberal use of late-term abortions in New York and Virginia. One report describes successful passage of such a bill actually being met with cheers by the legislators. ² How did we get to the point where lawmakers would applaud a law that actually allows a fetus (a.k.a. a baby) to be aborted (a.k.a. killed) right up to the day when it would have been born? Like many others who have been more active among the so-called pro-life advocates, I have come to believe that part of the reason for such an abhorrent practice is simply ignorance.
I’m the father of four and grandfather of twelve. Each of the twelve is a unique, awesome, and wonderful gift from God. I can’t stretch my mind to think of one of them having been denied birth by the provision of some legal procedure.
I was alive and can vaguely remember when Norma McCorvey’s (a.k.a. Jane Roe) case was decided by the Supreme Court in 1973. I was already the father of a beautiful baby girl. I remember wondering about the details of Roe v. Wade, but I didn’t spend much time finding out. In other words, I effectively chose to remain ignorant because the ruling did not affect me.
Seven years, a divorce, and a remarriage later, I was the father of two more children—two boys. Mike was born in Okinawa and Chris in Rhode Island. Like many career military folks, my family was becoming international. Then, while I was stationed in Pennsylvania in 1980, what I believe now to have been an artifact of the Roe v. Wade decision occurred. My wife informed me that she was pregnant—unplanned this time. For what I recall as lasting no more than a nanosecond, the thought of abortion pierced my consciousness like an unwanted visitor.
Most men I know are problem solvers, not touchy-feely listeners. My wife frequently affirms such a description as my default behavior. For a split second, my mind saw abortion as the solution to the problem of an unplanned pregnancy. I don’t think I ever voiced that thought before now. It didn’t last that long. But today I am absolutely convinced that I would never even have had such a thought before hearing news of the Supreme Court’s ruling. My son Chad was born in November 1980. He’s now out in the world, saving others as a US Coast Guard search-and-rescue helicopter pilot. He and his lovely wife have two of our twelve awesome grandchildren.
Years have passed since Chad was born. Having attended the births of all of my children, I have indelible memories of each one. Some say that if women could remember all the details of their birth experience, there would never be more than one birth per mother. That may be so, but I’ve learned that it is also true that the look on a mother’s face when she first meets her newborn is a pretty good indicator that she’ll have another—or at least want to!
Speaking of children dying at birth, the latest laws permit the killing of a baby moments before birth. Chad was never a candidate for abortion, but I still remember vividly how close he came to dying moments after birth. Because the outcome was happy, Chad’s near-death birth experience is one of my favorite family stories.
After almost running off the road on the exit ramp from Pennsylvania highway 611 to the Doylestown Hospital, I successfully delivered my beautiful and very pregnant wife to the caregivers who would attend to the metamorphosis of our third fetus
to the more proper title of baby.
But the doctor wasn’t there. I learned he was home having dinner, but would definitely arrive at the hospital in time. After preparing my wife for the delivery and assessing the level of her dilation, the nice nurse told my wife that the doctor was on his way, and she could begin pushing if she felt like it.
I remember telling the nurse, in a very firm and