I walked into a politically charged conversation in the women’s locker room at the gym today. Awkward.
I don’t usually go barging into strangers’ conversations. And especially not while trying to take a shower!
Besides, I was in a hurry. It was already my second attempt at getting myself cleaned up and on to the rest of my day, after having found the lockers closed for cleaning some minutes before. A friend was watching my kids for me outside the locker room, and I needed to get going.
But these two women glanced at me, and I gave a sheepish smile, and I guess that was my in …
There the three of us were, all of us half undressed, as one of them started recounting her son’s experience with abortion.
He had had two different girlfriends seek out abortions. And both times, she said, they were devastating for her son.
The first time, she explained, he was crying and angry at the doctor. I gently suggested that that was the most natural reaction in the world, as it was his innate instinct to protect.
After the second abortion, she continued, he turned to drugs and his life has spiraled down from there.
I spoke to her about Rachel’s Vineyard and its work with post-abortive men. She’d never heard of an organization trying to help men suffering from abortion, and said she would try to relay the information to her son. But, she lamented, they’ve become estranged.
Read more at Aleteia.