Since I’m now officially old and crabby, I’ve decided to minimize the amount of work I’m doing today. Still, I know that readers got to read and comment, so I give you a link to story by Kathryn Joyce about how crisis pregnancy centers are increasingly moving into the realm of returning to the pre-Roe days when single young women who got pregnant were put in maternity homes to have their babies snatched from them against their wills. Most young women are savvier now than they perhaps were in the 50s and 60s, but still, pregnancy is a tumultuous time for many, and they can easily be coerced into giving up their babies.
CPCs front like they’re just trying to stop abortion, but really, they present a threefold argument to women who come to them:
1) You have to have this baby! After they convince you not to have an abortion, the next step is to argue
2) You can’t have this baby! You have to give it up! And of course, whether you’re pregnant or not, they’ll try to convince you that
3) Contraception is the devil’s work. So if you’re not pregnant, you will be.
The results are mortifying. Quoting the piece:
Jordan selected a couple, and when she went into labor, they attended the birth, along with her counselor and shepherding mother. The next day, the counselor said that fully open adoptions weren’t legal in South Carolina, so Jordan wouldn’t receive identifying information on the adoptive parents. Jordan cried all day and didn’t think she could relinquish the baby. She called her shepherding parents and asked if she could bring the baby home. They refused, chastising Jordan sharply. The counselor told the couple Jordan was having second thoughts and brought them, sobbing, into her recovery room. The counselor warned Jordan that if she persisted, she’d end up homeless and lose the baby anyway.
“My options were to leave the hospital walking, with no money,” says Jordan. “Or here’s a couple with Pottery Barn furniture. You sacrifice yourself, not knowing it will leave an impact on you and your child for life.”
The next morning, Jordan was rushed through signing relinquishment papers by a busy, on-duty nurse serving as notary public. As soon as she’d signed, the couple left with the baby, and Jordan was taken home without being discharged. The shepherding family was celebrating and asked why Jordan wouldn’t stop crying. Five days later, she used her last $50 to buy a Greyhound ticket to Greenville, where she struggled for weeks to reach a Bethany post-adoption counselor as her milk came in and she rapidly lost more than fifty pounds in her grief.
When Jordan called Bethany’s statewide headquarters one night, her shepherding mother answered, responding coldly to Jordan’s lament. “You’re the one who spread your legs and got pregnant out of wedlock,” she told Jordan. “You have no right to grieve for this baby.”
As we like to say, read the whole thing.