Yes And

As child, I grew up hearing many family stories, including on from my own birth.  It was a story that not only reflected my parents love, but the resilience of their spirits. My dad went to school through the eighth grade and then worked labor intensive jobs until he retired. He provided for his family, devoted himself to his faith and spent his free time gardening, hunting and fixing things. It was not in his nature to delve into philosophical thought. I asked him once what he thought about the end of the world. He responded with, “every day is the last day on earth for somebody.” On the day that I was born, he was faced with a frightening choice. My mom underwent an emergency C-section and during the surgery, a nurse told him that both she and I were experiencing complications. He was asked, “if we have to focus our efforts on one of them, who do you want us to save, your wife or your child.”  Without hesitation, he said “save them both.”

I’ve heard this story many times and it has often been used as a pro-life argument. I don’t see it as that kind of story for two reasons. One, this was not a story about pregnancy complications that raised the option of abortion. The distress that endangered us was brought on by labor and the solution was an emergency c-section not termination. The second reason relates to the pro-life movement as a whole. The policies and legislation they lobby for consistently sacrifice the mother in favor of the baby. They would not say, “save them both.”

I often wonder about my dad’s response though. I find it to be an important reminder to avoid the kind of thinking that is two dimensional and look outside the box for more inclusive possibilities. I have also wondered about the choices he didn’t make. Most of the time my mom would follow up that story with “if they had been able to ask me, I would’ve said let me go and save my child.” At the time of my birth, my parents had been spent 13 years of praying together, raising children, arguing with each other, and supporting each other. So, while they may not have discussed the situation specifically, there’s no doubt in my mind that my dad knew what my mom would have said. If he had paused and decided to honor her choice, saying save the baby, it would have been because he knew that’s what she would’ve said.

On the other hand, as the child involved, I could not have faulted him if he had said save my wife. In fact, as an adult, I can say that’s what I would have chosen, had I the capacity and knowledge I have now. I love my family and can’t imagine the pain it would have caused them to lose my mother. The loss of my mom would’ve been a million times more devastating than the loss of myself as an infant. It would’ve meant my dad becoming a single parent to 8 children ranging in age from 0-14. While we have a large and loving extended family, even their support couldn’t make up for the trauma of losing my mom. I would’ve wanted him to choose my mom over me. I would’ve wanted that for him. I would’ve wanted it for my older sisters and brothers. They absolutely needed a mother more than they needed a newborn.

But he said save them both. He wanted and loved us both and for him we were both necessary. He chose not to make room for either to be set aside for the other. If one of us hadn’t made it, it would not be because of neglecting one for the other.The youngest sibling was born four years later and not a day goes by that I don’t marvel at their tenacity and strength of conviction.As I get older and have my own experiences, I think about his words, “save them both.” There is a certain kind of wisdom in that middle place. I’m not always particularly good at it but every now and then when I find myself sort of stumbling into that wisdom, I like to think that in part it was because of hearing this story so many times. It remains with me as a reminder to take a breath and find the space to embrace all the possibilities.