Letters

I am very annoyed and tired of hearing the lies about “month nine abortions.” Please read my mother’s story.

The year was 1952. One night at dinner, our parents came to the table all silly and laughing. I asked, what is the joke, please tell us? My mother got red in the face and explained to her three children that in a few more months we would be four children. We were getting a new baby.

I was 12, my sister was 7, and our baby brother was just 2 years old. We were all delighted by the news. A new baby! Fun!

Several long months passed, and Mother got bigger and bigger. Again, at dinner one evening, my mother was so upset and blurted out, “The baby has stopped moving. I have not felt him in two days.”

My dad went right to the phone and called the doctor. Dr. Norrington advised my dad to immediately bring our mother to the ER. They sped out of the driveway, and Dad did not come home for many hours.

The removal of a dead fetus is necessary to save the life of the mother. There was no saving our baby.

So the old story sadly goes. The new baby had expired in the uterus and had to be taken out of my mother manually by the doctor. This necessary removal is called an abortion. Had the doctor refused our mom this necessary treatment, she well could have died of septicemia.

Mom’s existing three half-grown children needed their mother alive. Doctors take an oath to “first do no harm.” Dr. Norrington was a fine M.D. and excellent human being.

Any removal of a dead-tissue infant from the mother before term is called an abortion. Ask your doctor.

Our dad told us that upon arrival at the ER, Mom was taken by gurney to a sub-basement in the hospital, where a storeroom had been rapidly equipped to serve as a surgical suite. After the procedure, she was admitted and taken to a regular room (not maternity) to recover. The next day, she was allowed to come home.

That is how doctors handled those emergencies way back then. No drama. Just get it done.

We three children met them at the door, and my sister Heidi excitedly asked, “Well, where is the baby?”

My dad replies thus: “The baby is in heaven.”

Sadly, we all know what that meant, and we all cried together at the loss of the baby we all so wanted. The baby who was so joyously anticipated.

Mom and Dad had no additional children.

So, everyone, please be educated now — and no more ignorant talk about things you know little about.

Suzanne Murphy

Southampton