The Interview

It’s a normal day. I went out and everything is like every other day, people walk hastily, the normal noise of the street, the cars, the people running to get to work, school, university, etc. The normal routine. But even if everything is seen, as is usually seen, my routine will be broken by an unusual interview, difficult to approach and quite honestly very visceral.

I am in Santiago de Chile, the Cathedral Castrense, a building not large enough to carry the title of cathedral. When you arrive at this place you will find in the outside entrance a plaque with the title “TO THE MEMORY OF CHILDREN MURDERED BEFORE BEING BORN” referring to aborted children and obviously has religious characteristics (remember where it is), but that does not mean that it is less real or that its message does not make us think about this situation.

There are several copies throughout Chile, some having suffered extreme vandalism, and also in the form of a warning (due to the content of the interview), that tolerance and respect are essential for the defense of any idea in the world as well as that having valid and scientific foundations should be necessary especially in this case. What is the use of painting or breaking a marble plate? These are the signs of hateful acts when the weight of the truth is too much.

But hey, I’m not here to analyze the proper methods to defend the ideas of a cause, I’m here to conduct an interview with one of those children who did not reach birth.

I enter the cathedral and even with a warm, clear day the atmosphere inside is cold, and I take this change in temperature as a prelude to the atmosphere of the interview; I sit in one of the pews in the middle part of the church, bow my head and wait.

“Hello” a childs voice says, when I raise my head I see a little girl next to me and she couldn’t have been more then 10 years old.

“Hello” I replied. “How old are you?” She looks at me tenderly and smiles at me -“I would be 8 years old, but never spend more than a few months of gestation, what you see is what it would be, what I was disappeared in an instant, now I understand the cold feel of the place.”

“Do you have your mother’s anger, the person who made the decision that you did not reach 8 years or more?” I think it is the most logical question to start this interview, she looks at me and answers “No, but I will always ask myself why, why she made this decision, why she did not give me to another mom, why she did not give me a chance.”

“Maybe she was too young and scared?” I answer but at the same time I ask her, I feel quite lost and very unarmed in front of my interviewee “If it can be” she answers “ but I was smaller than her and I faced the worst part of the decision she made, I was the victim.”

After this answer, what to ask? , I think, she is right, in the end, regardless of the circumstance. These children are the victims, they are the ones who do not live, they are the corpse.

“Do you think your mom had no choice, maybe she was pushed by someone?” She takes a second to think “Many of our mothers are pushed and these moms who are being pressured are as victims as we are, others just do it without pressures, they do it because we were simply a mistake that interfered with their plans. We appeared at the moment they did not want us to appear, we were a nuisance. When they do want children, when they think it is right, they have babies. They’re lucky, they were made with love in the time that suited them.”

“Many women die in an abortion, don’t you think that making this decision is very risky just because of an error that interferes with the plans, do not you think that for all of them it is a steep risk?” She looks at me, and very seriously “Maybe they think it’s easy, a good solution, that they can trust those who do the abortion, but for all of us who have been victims know that we can not trust them. Would you trust a person who ended your possibilities before we were born ? These people are just as to blame and many women are just as victims as us, the difference was that they chose to trust. We did not choose anything, we did not choose to be conceived, we did not choose to be aborted.”

“What would you say to your mom if you had the opportunity to talk to her?” I asked. Her expression changes, it is sadness, it is the expression of a person who knows that she will never have something she really wants. “I would simply ask her, if she did not love me a little bit, at least to give me to another mom who wanted a child.”

The simplicity of a response that can be complex, what a paradox …

“We are in a church, do you think that people who abort and who agree with abortion are in favor of life?Do you think this is all about religious ideas?” – She looks at me, lifts her shoulders and says “No, it is not a matter of whether you believe in a God or not, it is a matter of life, and life is part of everyone believe it or not. Abortion ends a life whether you believe or do not believe in God. The fact we are in a church is a coincidence. We could be in a park, in a house or in one of those places where women abort, the issue is that abortion ends a life.”

“What would you have liked to be?” I ask trying to find hope. She smiles at me “I would have liked to be a girl, to have been born, to grown up but now I am just another memory like the millions of memories of children who were not born. I am simply a memory.”

I return the smile, this memory, this girl gave me a lot to think about. “it’s time to leave” I say, trying to smile back.

“Goodbye, do you want to say something else?” She answers “Yes, if you see my mom one day tell her that I still love her very much, and that if I felt everything that happened, but I still love my mom and I forgive her.”

She is still sitting there. I walk towards the door and before leaving I turn and look at that chair where she was and there is no one, just silence and emptiness. I wonder if that is what it feels, after an abortion , silence and emptiness…

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