Fulfilling a lifelong dream:
marching for life in Washington

It only took me 40 years to do something I had intended to do since I was 11.

When I was in high school, the March for Life, a peaceful demonstration to advocate for life and protest the legalization of abortion, was just beginning. I finally made it to the 42nd March on Jan. 22, in Washington D.C.

My interest and commitment to the protection of human life from conception started when I debated abortion in high school. The debate was shortly after the Supreme Court’s landmark decision of Roe vs. Wade on Jan. 22, 1973, which legalized abortion and began an assault on babies in their mothers’ wombs.

When I was a sophomore in high school, one of my classmates had an abortion. I didn’t know her well enough to bring up the topic, but I made a point of being kind and compassionate. Though I was certain that I would never have an abortion, I could only imagine the struggles she felt before and after making such a terrible decision.

I was raised in a strong Catholic family where life was always treasured, from conception to natural death. Being number seven out of eight, I grew up knowing that the Lord provides and He usually used my older sisters’ hand-me-downs to do so.

As I grew in my faith, I found that moral teaching in the Church made sense to me — especially understanding the inherent value of human life.

Six months after that young girl had an abortion, I had a nightmare about another classmate. She was older than me and honestly, I didn’t even know her name. But I saw her and her boyfriend in my dream. She was crying and they were arguing. I didn’t hear what they were saying but I cried out in the dream, “Don’t do it! Don’t have the abortion. Your baby wants to live!”

I woke up from the dream feeling frightened and sick. I began to pray for them every day, especially when we passed in the hallway. I made eye contact with her and smiled. I longed to tell her that I was praying for her, but I just couldn’t do it. I prayed in silence, knowing that I might never know if it was just a dream.

Then a few months later, she began to show, her pregnancy was now obvious and her smile was bright and beautiful. She left school later in the year to have the baby and gave the baby up for adoption. Though we never spoke, I knew I had supported her and that baby in prayer, with eye contact and an encouraging smile.

All through Catholic college, I still couldn’t make it to the March for Life. Though I continued to be vocal for the rights of all persons, I figured when I was finished with college and married, then I’d go to the march.

Years went by and three kids later, I knew I was living my pro-life mission taking care of babies at home. After Johanna was born and we found ourselves in and out of the hospital, my pro-life commitment from home expanded to include advocacy in the Pediatric ICU.

Finally, 18 years after her birth, Johanna and I made it to our first March for Life. We went to DC the day before the march, to attend workshops on advocacy and support for pro-life issues. The morning of January 22, we joined over 400,000 people marching towards the Supreme Court in peaceful protest.

We were at the front of the March to give Johanna and Moats, our CCI puppy in training, a little reprieve from the crowds. Johanna was in the wheelchair holding a sign which read, “Every life is a gift,” as Moats walked obediently at our side.

When we reached the Supreme Court, there were about 50 pro-abortion demonstrators lined up to block the pro-life advocates. While overall it was a peaceful protest, the tensions were high as demonstrators from both sides rallied cries for and against abortion.

The abortion supporters were determined not to let the pro-life group pass, despite instruction from the police. Being at the head of the March, we were now face to face with 50 pro-abortion protestors, knowing that over 400,000 people were slowly moving towards this same summit at the Supreme Court. While I have a strong conviction to advocate for the value of human life, my first responsibility is always to ensure the health and safety of my daughter Johanna and also for Moats.

I knelt down next to the two of them. Moats nestled happily under my arm, not showing any concern for crowds or loud protests. He was quite happy with clear commands and dog treats. I asked Johanna if she was OK or if she wanted to leave.

Johanna firmly held her sign, shook her head and said, “No, Mom. I’m OK and I want to stay.”

When I stood up, I immediately saw the smiling face of a young woman holding a pro-abortion sign. She was admiring Moats and smiling warmly at Johanna in the wheelchair. She looked up from Johanna to me as our eyes met. We were separated by a line of Capitol Police and by deeply held convictions to advocate for the people we love.

In that moment the protest lines that divided us didn’t matter. We were connected through the mutual admiration and respect for my little girl whose life is a witness to the sign she now held in her chilly hands: “Every life is a gift
.”
Tears began to fall from my eyes and my grieving heart as I prayed for this young woman, for the classmate who I never asked about her abortion,for babies whose lives are lost every day and for a nation who needs to hear the message; every life matters.

This message is so important to give a voice for those who cannot speak for themselves and for anyone who feels so overwhelmed by their life circumstances that they can’t see the value and the gift of life in their midst. Along with the advocacy and the speeches and the push for legislation that protects the rights of every human being from conception to natural death, there is an even greater need for the witness of life as opposing views meet eye to eye and connect heart to heart to protect all human life.

Johanna and I made our way peacefully through the line of pro-abortion protesters as they opened a space for us to pass. As I slowly walked away from the protests, pushing her in the wheelchair, I complained that my feet really hurt.

Johanna let out a groan in full teenage fashion as she quipped, “Mom, we have to do this! It’s the March for Life, you know. After all, Mom, we have to show everyone that life is a gift and every life matters.”

Out of the mouths of babes —silent and vocal — indeed, every life is a gift and every life matters.

Eileen Benthal is a writer, speaker and wellness coach with a B.A. in Theology from Franciscan University. She is the author of Breathing Underwater: A Caregiver’s Journey of Hope.

Eileen and her husband Steve live in Jamesport and have four young adult children. Their youngest, Johanna, is a teenager with special needs.

Eileen can be reached at FreeIndeedFreelance.com.