At the very start of the COVID shutdown, Netflix released several new original shows that captivated the locked-down virtually overnight. One of those shows is called Love is Blind. It begins as your average dating show: attractive singles arrive in search of love and meet strangers of the opposite gender. The twist in Love is Blind, however, is that all conversations between potential couples happen with a wall in between them. They cannot see each other until AFTER they get engaged. After the proposal, the couples finally meet each other face to face, move in together, and then prepare for their weddings. It is the epitome of a terrible reality show that contradicts the Church’s teaching in a variety of ways, but I have no shame in admitting I gobbled it up while I was stuck at home. 

I will never forget watching the second episode of the show and being profoundly struck by one particular scene. One of the female contestants, Amber, is conversing with her soon-to-be fiancé, Barnett, through the wall. She begins to explain to him that in a past relationship, she discovered she was pregnant. 

“It is literally the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through in my life… I was still learning what it meant to love somebody, and because I loved him so much, I had an abortion. It’s not exactly something, like, I’m proud of. After the fact, I’m trying to explain to him: ‘I’m having a really hard time getting out of bed in the morning. I don’t eat. I’m not really sleeping.’… He goes ‘Why don’t you just get over it? You need to get over it already, like, move on.’...I need to know if a situation like that comes up and an unexpected pregnancy happens... I won’t be forced to choose. I can’t survive that again. It would destroy me.” 

Even almost two years after watching this scene for the first time, I remember how I felt watching it for the first time. The pain in Amber’s voice as she is telling her story to Barnett is tangible. You can see how she relives the trauma in her mind. And I think there is a lot we can learn from this moment. 

So often in our country, the divisive abortion debate focuses on the life and rights of the unborn child. And without a doubt, of course this is of the utmost importance. The unborn are silenced before they even have a chance to speak. However, watching this simple moment in a Netflix scene two years ago has drastically changed the way I approach the abortion conversation. My thoughts and concerns are often pulled toward the mother in the situation. 

There are so many elements at play in the situation Amber describes. The shock of an unplanned pregnancy, the reaction and wishes of the partner, the fear of losing the partner if you do not agree to their wishes, the trauma of the abortion procedure and recovery, the immense guilt and depression Amber clearly is dealing with, the ambivalence of her partner, and the fear of living this again in a future relationship. Wow. I cannot even begin to imagine going through even one piece of that, especially while pregnant.

My heart absolutely breaks for Amber and any woman like her. Much of the time, abortions happen to someone who is in a committed relationship, which I think many of us tend to forget. Someone that’s supposed to love you, support you, and help you in all things is now pressuring you to do something unthinkable so that your lives can proceed as planned. I cannot imagine the stress and pressure of making that decision. I can understand being so in love with someone that the fear of losing them takes precedence over what we know to be true in our souls. And unfortunately (or fortunately, more likely) for Amber, that relationship ended anyway eventually, seeing as she joined a dating show. 

I think this moment in Amber’s life can teach the pro-life community a lot about how we need to be supporting women, both those who are post-abortive and those in the midst of making this difficult decision. How can we support them better? Perhaps it’s free counseling. Perhaps it’s government or non-profit aid that can allow these women to be financially independent of their partners if they are unwilling to support the woman if she proceeds with the pregnancy. Perhaps it’s donating to establishments that provide free housing or childcare for single mothers. Perhaps it’s investing in chastity and cycle charting education so that women like Amber can understand the beauty and goodness of their sexuality the way God intended it to be. 

As a woman, I hate to see another woman in pain. Amber is so clearly carrying around the burden of this deep secret, and the absolute fear she has of going through an abortion again is truly heartbreaking. As I watched the scene, it was so clear to me that Amber is in deep need of post-abortive counseling, such as that offered by organizations like Rachel’s Vineyard. But even more, Amber is in need of grace. She is in need of a Redeemer. She needed mercy. She needed to be told “You are good. You are forgiven. You can forgive yourself. God still deeply loves you.” 

We can only speculate, but I cannot help but wonder what decision Amber would have made if she felt supported when she learned she was pregnant. What if her partner hadn’t pressured her to abort? What if she felt that she had the capability and the resources to raise a child? What if she understood the biology and alive-ness of a child in the womb? And more importantly, what can I do, what can WE do, to ensure that women in Amber’s position do not feel as though abortion is the only or best choice? What can we do to help women avoid this trauma? The abortion conversation can no longer be just about the babies. If we claim to be pro-life, we need to be pro-mother as well.