Don't Pass it Down. Do Something.

So by now you've no doubt heard of the explosive undercover videos exposing the nausea-inducing underbelly of Planned Parenthood (an Orwellian name if there ever was). After four videos (more to come) this much seems clear: they are all Kermit Gosnell. Tidier and more sanitary, sure, but exactly the same barbarism. Gosnell liked to joke about his murders: "That one was big enough to walk me to the bus stop." Clinicians in the back rooms of Planned Parenthood locations say things like: "Ooh, there's a liver!" And, "It's another boy!" And their executives sip wine and munch salad while talking about how careful they are not to crush valuable baby body parts and to get dead bodies less "war torn," and joke about wanting a Lamborghini when haggling over the prices. Gosnell convinced the poor black women in his neighborhood that his services were, well, contraceptive services. Isn't that the entire edifice upon which Planned Parenthood is built? Gosnell had a major financial stake in keeping girls pregnant and coming to him, and we learn that Planned Parenthood has a double conflict of interest when "counseling" expectant mothers: they make their cash doing the abortion, and they make money selling the carved up corpses. How likely is it those sessions are about "choices"? About the same as a car salesman trying to convince me to buy the cheaper model.

But I digress. That isn't what I wanted to write.

My children are too young for this. Still in the blissful, glistening fog of innocence. The eldest is nearly a teenager, and getting there. More than once they've asked what Planned Parenthood is and what these videos are all about (Mom and Dad talk about them). I change the subject. I say, "Never you mind. Go outside and play. Enjoy your summer." 

Why do I hesitate? Is it because I'm overly protective? Do I really think they cannot handle the truth? Maybe there's something to that. But deep down there's another reason.

I want them to reach an adulthood in which this atrocity is a memory, not a living reality. I do not want abortion-on-demand to be a moral issue handed down to them. Rather, I have an almost desperate hope that my children will look back and say: "My parents ended it." I want my generation to be the heroic one. There is something wrong about telling them about all this, burdening them with this horrific knowledge. It feels like passing the buck. It's too soon. There is still time yet for victory before passing the torch to the next-generation reinforcements.

It might seem silly; wishful thinking. My eldest will be an adult in the blink of an eye. But you know what I also know? Planned Parenthood could lose all their Federal funding tomorrow. They could shutter their doors in a matter of months as result of aggressive criminal investigations. What I know is we are closer than we have ever been in 40 years to a significant victory in the fight to protect the most helpless people on the planet. What it will take at very least is for each and every one of us to make our voices reverberate through the offices of our elected representatives. Flood the lines. Flood the lines. Let it be all the staffers can talk about: "Can you believe all these calls?" Call even if your Senator or Representative is a liberal, devoted to defending abortion on demand. Let them know there is no moral or even political defense of this odious organization receiving a single dime of hard-earned, taxpayer dollars.

If, by the time my children come of age, we haven't shuttered Planned Parenthood's doors and passed significant legislation that brings us back into the realm of civilized nations, I'll pass the torch then. I'll accept the reinforcements. I'll give them the full briefing.

And I'll apologize for the catastrophic moral failure of our nation, our elected leaders, and our entire generation. 

Update: Phone numbers for your Congressional representatives can be easily found here.

Brian Mattson