When my eldest child was only 4 months old, I brought her along to a 40 Days for Life prayer vigil, dressed in her “Life Runners” pro-life onesie. I remember the juxtaposition of a precious baby being rocked and cradled lovingly outside a Planned Parenthood and how I told her, “I hope you grow up in a world where abortion is not just illegal, but unthinkable. And I hope one day, when you’re older and you ask what ‘abortion’ is — was — I’ll describe it in past tense …”

Deep in my heart, I dreaded the inevitable day I would have to talk to my kids about abortion. I was unsure of “the right time,” as if there is ever a good time to tell kids about something so awful.

I worried about the loss of their innocence and the horror that would overcome them, since they were all so young (ages 7 and under).

I knew my own emotions would likely make it even harder, as it’s already very difficult for me to talk about abortion without crying.

I feared they might one day find the act justifiable — or acceptable — or a “right.”

And so, my husband and I waited to use the word “abortion.”

Instead, we have committed to praying constantly: After every decade of the Rosary, we pray, “Jesus, protect and save the unborn.”

We have taught our children about pregnancy and how the unborn baby grows over time: Our 6-year-old son is fascinated by embryology and gestational development, and my 4-year-old daughter wants to be “a doctor and a mommy.”

We have regularly donated money and goods to pregnancy-resource centers and explained to our children how we’re helping moms who need diapers, clothes and food for their babies.

We have comforted and grieved alongside our friends who lost babies to miscarriage; yes, our children grieve the loss of these precious babies — their friends.

And we’ve brought our children with us to pray outside the abortion center in our town, and we pray to St. Michael every time we drive past the building where, according to our local 40 Days for Life chapter, 88 babies are killed every week.

In fall 2023, as our home state of Ohio battled over Issue 1, which ended up codifying abortion in the state Constitution, my husband and I knew we couldn’t run from reality much longer, and we finally explained “abortion” to our children in language they could understand.

At the time, I was pregnant with our fourth child, and our kids, who were 7, 5 and 3, were eagerly anticipating the birth of their sister, Dorothy. 

Before I explained abortion, I started by reminding them that caring for a baby is hard work and raising babies often is quite expensive, especially if they’re born with special needs. They understood and agreed.

I admitted that sometimes moms need extra help, and they understood that, too. I’ve been a full-time work-from-home mom their whole lives, and they know how hard it is.

As soon as I started to mention that some moms feel they can’t do it, my kids chimed right in with, “Then we can help them!” 

“How will we help them?” I asked, surprised.

They went on to tell me all the ways they’d help: by gathering our family’s baby clothes that no longer fit and donating blankets and toys; they even suggested doing extra chores to earn money, and they said they’d pull money from their own piggy banks!

I challenged them: “What if the mom doesn’t think she can be a good mom?”

“She will be a good mom!”

“What if her baby is very sick or she is very sick and they might die?”

“Then the doctors can save them both!”

I should have known. All along, our kids have seen the beauty of life, the reality of life within the womb, and the duty to love our neighbors. When it comes to welcoming a child into the world, nothing seems impossible for them.

When I finally got to explaining abortion, it became a lot easier for me. I didn’t have to go into all the details about the procedure (admittedly, they’re still too young for that), but they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s wrong, that there are other options, and that the top priority should be to help moms and babies in need, no matter the circumstances.

Not only that, but when I told them why we pray for an end to abortion, I could sense their hearts opening even more, for we pray for the moms who are scared, for the misguided people who think abortion is the best option, for conversion of people who perform abortions, and for healing for moms whose babies were killed.

I was wrong to think my kids couldn’t handle the truth about this great injustice, but I’m thankful for the chance to be proven wrong!

As we continue to work and pray for an end to abortion, I pray that we all might approach it with the same simplicity, zeal and love our children show us — and that we, as parents, may possess the fortitude and perseverance to build the culture of life for our children and their futures.

Jesus, protect and save the unborn!