When people meet me, my husband, and our beautiful two-year-old son, Michael, they see a happy family of three. What they do not know is that I had another son who would be eleven years old had he lived. His death was a needless tragedy caused by selfishness and confusion. But my son had no way to protect himself.

Abortion is an ugly word. To many, it's just a word-like murder, or rape, or incest. When you hear it, you get a repulsive feeling in your stomach; but most people don't really understand its implications, unless they've gone through it.

In 1970 the big issue was abortion. New York had passed an abortion-on-demand law that rocked the nation. A woman was now free to choose her unborn child's destiny through her twenty-fourth week of pregnancy. She could have an abortion for any reason. After all, why should she spend the rest of her life paying for one little mistake?

The real question remained: When does life begin? Some said at conception, others said when the fetus could survive on its own outside the womb, and some said at birth.

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