When Is A Baby A Baby?

By Vera Faith Lord

They had warned me about him. They said he was a "troublemaker" and, if I allowed him to ask a question, I would be answering at my own risk.

I am a professional speaker. I travel all over the USA, speaking on women's health issues. That day, I was in the auditorium of a huge Catholic high school, and the subject was Post-Abortion Syndrome, the devastating disease that affects millions of families nationwide.

My 30-minute speech was finished, and the question and answer phase had begun. There he was. The troublemaker. Looking like a 16-year-old version of Dennis the Menace and waving his arm in the air. It didn't help matters that he was in the front row.

I looked toward the three school administrators and saw three faces conveying sympathy, but offering no help.

I answered (in depth) every other student's question, until there was only one hand still raised. There were five long minutes left until the bell. "OK," I thought, "He's only a 16-year-old kid. I've been challenged by middle-aged intellectuals and emerged triumphant. Here goes" I looked at him, and in my most non-threatening Earth Mother tone, said, "OK - - your turn."

He stood up. Bad sign. None of the others had stood to ask their questions. He faced the group and asked, "Can everybody hear me?" Turning to me, he drew himself up to his full height of about five feet four inches, and finally got to ask his question. He said, "I know it's a baby from conception on - - but when does society say it's a baby?"

He sat down and I saw, for the first time, not an adversary to be overcome, but a young boy honestly looking for the answer to a Big Question. Time stopped. I had no clue what to tell him. Silently, in the depths of my soul, I spoke to God - - more accurately, Ishouted to God: "You got me into this, now You get me out. You answer this question."

Meanwhile, back in the auditorium, only seconds had actually passed. I heard my own voice speaking. "Thank you for asking the best question I've ever been asked, by anyone, young or old." He beamed.

I looked at the audience. "The question is 'when does society say it's a baby' and here is the answer: It depends entirely on the woman that the baby is living inside of. If she wants him, we have baby showers and grandparents make toasts, and names are chosen, and sonogram pictures are shown to all. Her responsibility to him is to love and protect him and do everything to make sure he's healthy for the whole nine months he's inside her. Baby showers, names chosen, celebrations; he's a baby.

"If she doesn't want him, society says that this very same baby is not a baby, but a piece of tissue, and she has the same responsibility to him as she has to the hamburger she had for lunch."

Long seconds passed. Off to my left, one of the teachers was dabbing at her eyes. The troublemaker's whole appearance had changed. He had a very primal look on his face. It was the look we all get for one small moment when we see true Wrong for the first time.

He was red-faced and scowling when, forgetting to raise his hand, he shouted out, "But that's not right!"

I think sometimes the young see injustice in sharper focus than their elders. A line from one of my favorite novels reads: "He is awake now - - his eyes are forever open." The troublemaker was all of humanity at that moment. His righteous indignation was there for all to see.

The other students understood because, beneath their armor of suave teenage sophistication, they agreed with him. They all "got it." The world hadn't had time to smooth out their edges and blunt their sense of injustice yet. Irrationally, I hoped it never would.

That day happened two years ago. I'm still speaking all over the country, and, in my travels, I've mentioned the boy's question and the answer many times. The point always gets across and, afterward, I often hear compliments on what a great answer it was. I smile graciously, and say thank you.

If I happen to be speaking to an audience of clergy, I say what the clergy audiences already know: on that day two years ago when the troublemaker asked his question, it was I who spoke the words, but it wasn't I who answered.