My neighbors and their children

By Mariola O'Brien |

I wake up at night to nurse my baby. It's dark and quiet. All I hear is her drinking with delight. Her little body is so soft and warm, I have to smile. Then my thoughts start to wander and my heart sinks...

Our neighbor had come for a visit to congratulate us on the birth of our daughter. She brought gifts, and news... She was unexpectedly pregnant and "couldn't" keep this baby. Even though both her husband and parents wanted this child, she was considering abortion. Nobody could have given her better advice than we did at that moment. She went home, time passed and her tummy didn't seem to grow.

When we bump into her she smiles and wants to show our baby to her son. No questions are asked and I smile dutifully. Showing her my baby I am about to say she's alive, but hear myself say she's awake. My baby reminds me of her baby who is no more and never will be. She had her reasons; they all do. Every time I see her I want to ask what happened to your baby? But all we talk about is the weather. As I turn my back and continue walking I hear myself asking what happened to your baby?

How heavy is my heart! To have a conversation with a mother who told me she was going to have her baby killed and then followed through! Her abortion has traumatized me. How will she be doing in the years to come? Only time will tell the effects, not only on her, but her son, husband and parents. The memory of her dead baby haunts me like a ghost. Will it not haunt her and her family? Legalized murder by the mother herself. And nobody reacts. I feel so powerless! We tried to talk to her, we prayed. But in the end, there was nothing we could do.

What has happened to the world?

"Hope to see you soon again. Have a great day!"

~~~~~

We're out with our kids when a neighbor calls on us from his backyard. We join him for tea. I know something about his pain and his wife's pain. Only God has all the answers. Only God knows the right time to be given a child, or not be given one. Their boy is sitting in his highchair eating. Very slowly. His father says it can take up to an hour to have one meal. Soon they will celebrate his second birthday, but he cannot walk. He looks at us and smiles, because he doesn't speak yet either.

He looks very sweet in his blue eyes and blond hair. He is very sweet, and loved. But he was ordered from the doctor and had to come into existence. He wasn't received as a gift, but ordered like a product. He wasn't created in love, union and a gift of self, but rather in a laboratory. He has seven siblings or so who will probably never be. They weren't good enough to have. Their brother beat them to it. Barely. They'll be thrown away, or serve as guinea-pigs at best.

What has happened to the world?

"Thanks for the tea and give our greetings to your wife. Bye for now!"

~~~~~

On the way to the park we stop to talk to our neighbor, a nice young woman whom we know from the play-center. Her daughter waves to our son and he waves back. The mother is very kind and goodhearted, and adores her little girl. I like her a lot. We laugh and chat. My husband notices scars on her wrists. The little girl was just picked up from her dads'. Sorry, that's not a typo. No, it's not dad's; it is actually dads'. They had had her over the weekend.

Both her daughter and our son have the same right to a normal and wholesome family. But the laws don't agree. I wonder to myself which one is her dad. Will she grow up knowing she only has one father? Or will it dawn upon her in grade four? Will her mother explain to her that she exists thanks to a deal between two homosexual men and herself, that she is a product of loneliness and sadness? A band-aid to give comfort and joy, kind of like a pet? Will she tell her that there is no love-story behind her conception? Why does this make me think "sophisticated trafficking"?

What has happened to the world?

"Well, take care and see you soon!"


You don't choose your neighbors, but you can definitely pray for them and their children...

Article copyright: Mariola O'Brien, all rights reserved. Please contact author for rights to republish or translate.

Category: life issues, O'Brien