'Not a mistake': A life that was saved

I was a mistake.

My mother had an affair with another man while married with two children and (oops!) became pregnant. Her husband didn’t want her to keep the baby, not only because it wasn’t his but because they were not wealthy. She could have had an abortion … but, instead, she chose to carry that “mistake” full term. For nine months she carried me in her womb, knowing that she couldn’t keep the small life growing inside of her. She gave birth and held me in her arms for a few minutes, even gave me a name — JoAnne. Then, she handed me to a social worker and didn’t see me again for 30 years.

My sister, who was 13 when I was born, remembered me. Many years later she looked for me and managed, somehow, to find me. At 30 I finally met the woman who gave me birth and had an opportunity to thank her for giving me a chance at life.

She is gone now, almost 30 years later. She carried the secret of my father’s name to the grave with her. But I am grateful that I had the chance to meet this courageous woman. She was not perfect; no, far from that. But I’m sure that carrying me to term was probably the hardest, and best, thing she ever did. It was a great act of love and heroism.

So back to the beginning. I was adopted by a wonderful family who wanted me — not because they were even looking for a baby but because my adopted mother, who was a foster mother to many, many babies, took one look at me and fell in love with me. I wasn’t even convenient — my adopted parents were older, in their late 40s-50s — and yet, I was a “foster failure.”

So not just one, but two strong, courageous women gave me a chance to make a difference in the world, in spite of my “inconvenience.”

I may not be the president of the United States or the queen of England, but I’m certainly NOT a mistake. Thanks to two brave, wonderful women I am writing this letter to ask you to give life, and love, a chance.

How can I adequately thank these two women for giving me the gift of life? That wonderful gift that we all take for granted? I can only think of one way to honor their memory: by speaking up when other young women are given that choice. They can make the hard but unselfish choice — to be a strong, courageous woman like my biological mother and give the baby in their womb a chance at life — or, they can choose to discard it (yes I will dare to say it!), kill it because that life is inconvenient or unwanted or unloved.

I recently saw a video of Susan Cahill speaking of abortion. She used words like “safe,” “loving,” “nurturing,” and even “courageous” to describe “abortion care” and “reproductive rights.” As a “mistake” myself, I cannot understand this logic. What is more courageous? To carry a baby to term in an uncertain world and give it up for adoption, or discard it in Susan’s “safe” “loving” little abortion clinic?

Abortion is not a “courageous” choice — it is a selfish choice. Not a clean, easy, simple way to get rid of a small problem, but a messy, ugly, sometimes even painful process that can affect a woman mentally and physically for the rest of her life. That is the reality of abortion. Once that life has been “removed,” there is no turning back. Such a huge choice for a young woman to make, not a small or insignificant choice — but a matter of life or death. Shouldn’t they be given every opportunity to make the right choice? Do you think Susan Cahill gives them the opportunity to consider adoption or other alternatives in her “loving and compassionate” clinic?

No, I cannot stand idly by while the Susan Cahills of this world attempt to pretty up the ugly reality of abortion with flowery language. I will speak up. Because I AM NOT A MISTAKE.

Myra Appel is a resident of Whitefish.