It’s terribly sad that Mother’s Day has become an occasion for touting abortion as the best gift mothers can receive. Murdering one’s baby is the polar opposite of motherhood, and the idea that abortion and Mother’s Day go hand in hand is remarkably disingenuous considering that everyone — even the most vociferous pro-abortion activists — can see that love and self-sacrifice are at the heart of what it means to be a mother.
This reality hits home deeper now that my wife and I have welcomed our first child and I’ve witnessed my wife experiencing the joys and trials of motherhood firsthand. I’m the second oldest of seven, but when I was a toddler, pre-teen, and young teen, most of what my mom went through during her pregnancies went over my head completely. Now I’ve caught a glimpse of how hard she worked to bring my siblings and me into the world.
“The first one is usually the hardest” is one of the things people say when they find out your wife is pregnant. I still don’t really know what that means — a healthy agnosticism about all things related to pregnancy is the safest position for a male to hold — but my wife does. She experienced what that meant through all nine months of pregnancy and 24 hours of labor.
She wrestled with her changing body and adjusted to new experiences on a daily basis. She pushed herself through random bouts of morning sickness (I learned that “morning
