National Review Online roving correspondent Kevin Williamson recently tweeted an uncomfortable opinion about the status of post-abortive women.  He feels they should be prosecuted for first-degree murder.  His recommended instrument of justice is a bit archaic for our times, but I will leave that aside for now.

I wholeheartedly agree with Mr. Williamson, even though I do not possess any formal education in ex post facto law, retributive justice, or even the organization and gradation of moral theories. 

I agree because I had an abortion.  That’s all I need to know.

Curiously, I found Mr. Williamson’s comment on a website where the adjacent headline read, “El Salvadoran Mother Charged for Having an Abortion-But Evidence Suggests She Murdered Her Baby.”

What?

Mr. Williamson is picking up the pro-life argument exactly where it keeps stalling out: at the place that occupies the next logical step in the sequence.  Where the painful realization that will break the impasse needs to be stated.  Arguments surrounding the questions of fetology, personhood, public or private choice have been sufficiently made.  Got it.  But how serious are we about what comes next?  If there are no societal consequences for such heinous behavior, what are we saying about the nature and gravity of the crime?  About ourselves?

The fact is, abortion is first-degree murder and many women should be prosecuted for it.  Of course, as with any judicial process, there will always be extenuating circumstances and exceptions.

The people who can most effectively make this argument are women like me.  We have a problem, though.  The denial that helped us maintain an equilibrium following our crime also put us in a place we should not be.  Many of us stayed there.  We went on to marry and start families, and now they must be protected.  We ingrained ourselves into the fabric of normal, everyday life, with its relationships, responsibilities and institutions.  We constantly battle and weigh our aching desire to expose to others where we really belong.  But who will listen?  Who will adjudicate?  Why create deep dissecting wounds in our children and extended family members if there is no court to convict and no prison to house us?  And after living a lie for so long, reclining in our comfort and anonymity, do we really possess the courage and selflessness to pack our bags and advocate for arrest?

Meanwhile, dichotomy abounds.  This past summer, a gentleman in my neighboring community changed his morning day-care routine; he accidentally left his infant son in a sweltering car for hours, and the child died.  The father was prosecuted.  An acquaintance of a coworker sits in our local prison for having shaken his infant following a sleepless night of colic and crying.  The child died of a cerebral hemorrhage.  Dad is a married man in a professional career who has no prior criminal record or history of substance abuse.

It’s evident that this complex issue must be addressed if we are to move the dialogue and battle to the next level.  If we believe that abortion is indeed murder, there had better be some consequences that follow. 

Thanks for stating the obvious, Kevin.  Somebody had to say it.