Last year, Planned Parenthood employees killed 321,384 children at their “health clinics” nationwide. The whopping figure, buried deep within the organization’s 2016-2017 annual report released this month, secures Planned Parenthood’s spot as America’s largest abortion provider.
Last August, my husband and I welcomed our first child, my darling son. Parenthood so far has been a tiring, frightening, and unimaginably joyful blessing. And though I’ve always considered myself pro-life, becoming a mother has awakened in me an almost primal hostility toward abortion and its most adamant defenders.
That’s why as part of my column this week, I have a message I’d like to share with the bogus baby-killing operation that for some mind-boggling reason is still receiving government aid to slaughter innocents:
Dear Planned Parenthood,
STOP KILLING ALL OF MY SON’S FRIENDS!
As my beautiful boy continues to grow, I often think about his future. As I marvel at the amazing potential I see in him, I can’t help but also reflect on the enormous hole abortion has bulldozed into society.
One-hundred years after its founding, Planned Parenthood is faithfully carrying out the mission of its elitist, racist, eugenicist foundress, Margaret Sanger, and nobody is stopping it.
In its annual report, Planned Parenthood included a list of “State Legislative Attacks and Wins.” For Pennsylvania, the state where my son was born, the report shares that “Advocates successfully delayed a dangerous abortion ban and a state effort to block people from accessing care at Planned Parenthood and secured a veto commitment from the governor on both. [Emphasis added]”
With the organization alive and well in our own backyard, my son is sure to notice the effects of abortion in his lifetime. Planned Parenthood is killing his future classmates, colleagues, and maybe even his potential spouse.
How am I supposed to explain to my child that bloody wars were fought to end the slaughter of millions in Europe, but the “greatest genocide in history”—the elective slaughter of helpless infants—is applauded in the public square?
Like suicide, abortion is sometimes an act of selfishness, but it is always an act of despair. Planned Parenthood propagates such despair by preaching “women’s empowerment” while simultaneously telling women that sometimes they have no other recourse but to kill their own offspring. Their “my body, my choice” rhetoric ignores the rights of not only children but of their fathers, who like it or not played a significant role in creating them.
As my friend Alexandra DeSanctis pointed out in her breakdown of the report, Planned Parenthood is a progressive political action organization that profits enormously and essentially from abortion, the most expensive “service” the group provides.
About one in every three U.S. abortions occurs at a Planned Parenthood facility. If we shut them down, abortion loses its greatest vendor and PR representative.
Cecile Richards and the other executives at Planned Parenthood know this, which is why they do their best to hide their most monstrous statistic (the figure, 321,384, doesn’t appear in the report until page 31). They know that anyone with a conscience would vote to defund and dismantle them in a heartbeat if confronted directly with their true motives.
Last year, Planned Parenthood received $543.7 million in government money. So here comes my second message, and it’s directed at our Republican-led Congress and President Donald Trump: Do what you promised and defund Planned Parenthood.
It is now 2018, and an organization that is currently under federal investigation for the sale of fetal body parts is still benefiting from taxpayer dollars. Congress continues to pass, and Trump continues to sign, spending packages that keep the abortion giant on the government dole. This is more than insanity—this is evil.
Trump and the GOP Congress have achieved a lot of good over the past year, but if they fail to defund Planned Parenthood as promised, they will have failed what is arguably their greatest mission, and they will have blood—the blood of my son’s peers—on their hands.