March for Life Reflections

by Christy Yao Pelliccioni

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The first time I went to the March for Life, I was five years old. I understood the basic concept in a child-friendly way: killing babies before they are born is wrong, and we march to show that. That year we missed our bus back home, and I thought it was a great adventure! Taking a metro ride was the perfect end to my wonderful day.  I went with my dad and big sister, the two people in the world I felt the safest with besides my own mother, who stayed home with my three-year-old brother.  In later years, all five of us would brave the cold with our parish or Catholic school, often with my dad carrying an easy-to-spot bunch of balloons in case someone got separated. 

As I got older, I realized the nuances of abortion as an issue and came to identify with a Consistent Life Ethic. Being pro-life meant not only opposing the legalization of abortion, but supporting families and opposing other acts of violence. I became involved with organizations like Rehumanize, the American Solidarity Party, and the Consistent Life Network. I went to the March for Life and adjacent events with these groups, espousing a “pro-life for the whole life” approach to the issue of abortion. 

Now that I have my own children, a four-year-old boy and a one-year-old girl, I am bound and determined to include them in all age-appropriate pro-life activities, including the March for Life. But these things are easier said than done. I’ve learned as a mother that going full speed and cramming my schedule with events the weekend of the March for Life with both kids in tow is simply not going to go well. There needs to be extra time to find the metro elevator with our double stroller, many cheerios, and well-timed potty breaks. And that’s before we get to the hard stuff. 

I attended the Horror and Hope Unity Brunch without my kids, and it felt oddly like I had traveled back in time to the life I had before I met my two sidekicks. I couldn’t wait for everyone there to meet them. I was hoping to bring them to the Horror and Hope Vigil that evening, but decided it would be better to give them both an easy afternoon and rest up for the next day. In the morning, we would be attending the Democrats for Life Breakfast and then the March itself.

I was on a panel at the Democrats for Life Breakfast, so I am forever grateful that the same sister I attended the March for Life with all those years ago was able to come and hang out with my kids while I spoke. The National Press Club staff was so kind to my two little balls of energy as I spoke about the family friendly policies that have benefitted our family. It was starting out to be a very nice morning, and not too cold as we walked down to the Rehumanize meetup. 

Every year, my son gets a little more astute to what’s going on and why mommy is dragging him downtown. Last year, as a three-year-old, we were still able to distract him from the graphic images and have him be all gung-ho for this celebration of life. But this year, the minute we got to the Rehumanize rally, he was distressed by a graphic image in the crowd nearby. We went to walk around a bit, and he was soon distracted by snacks and the funny signs outside of museums. We looked for some religious Brothers and Sisters we know who always bring much joy to the March, including a large drum that any four-year-old boy would love. We met up with them and my son was happy as could be.

If you’ve never been to the March for Life, it’s a big crowd. Sometimes you are marching along at a good pace, while at other times there is more of a lull in the pace. Well, of course we were stopped for what seemed like forever in front of the large graphic images. 

In my recollection there have always been large graphic images at the March for Life. In a way, since I’ve seen these images since I was young, I’ve kind of grown numb to them. When you’re numb and perhaps jaded to many of the tactics in the pro-life movement, it is hard to remember that that image is someone’s child. But from the perspective of my four-year-old, that reality is clear as day. My son is the kind of kid who asks questions over and over again, hoping to squeeze out a little more information from each answer. It’s one of the reasons I think he is such an amazing kid. “What is that? Why would anyone want to hurt a baby? Why didn’t their mommy know better?” All these questions I can’t really answer, other than to tell him I love him and knew not to hurt him and his sister. Despite challenges with both my pregnancies and less than ideal financial circumstances, I always knew I had a large support system. I was fortunate enough to be able to be covered under Medicaid and participate in the WIC program, which helped tremendously in making ends meet. I am also extremely grateful for the many friends and relatives who will pitch in to help with my children. I was never in a situation where I felt like it would be the better “choice” for me to end the life of my child.

And that is why I march, and bring my children to march. Of course, as my children get older and the political climate changes, I will use prudence on if and what activities to bring them to. I am hopeful the Consistent Life Ethic will become the predominant line of thought in the Pro-Life Movement and that the use of graphic images at least at supposedly family-friendly events will diminish, but perhaps this is too wishful. As for now, I will take it year by year, situation by situation, attempting to teach my children as much about the Consistent Life Ethic as is age appropriate, while placing their emotional wellbeing first.