Fetus Baby Quotes

Annie turned away, her eyes glittering. 'Here's what no one tells you,' she said. 'When you deliver a fetus, you get a death certificate, but not a birth certificate. And afterward, your milk comes in, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.' She looked up at me. 'You can't win. Either you have the baby and wear your pain on the outside, or you don't have the baby, and you keep that ache in you forever. I know I didn't do the wrong thing. But I don't feel like I did the right thing, either.

Babies cry at birth because it is the first time they experience separation from love.

Abortion is legal almost everywhere, not because people all over the world love to kill babies for fun, but because a fetus is not a baby.

There are those wonderful moments of clarity in life when one is reminded how irreparably flawed we humans are. Once, when I was nineteen, on the subway in Boston I lost my balance slightly and bumped into an elderly woman. I quickly apologized and she replied, "Well, hold on to something, stupid." There it is. That's it. That's it in a nutshell. I don't want to sound negative, but I think every fetus should be shown a film of that incident, maybe projected up on the uterine wall, and then asked if it wants to come out. I am a strong believer in a woman's right to choose, but I also think that in the last trimester, the kid should be given every opportunity to back out.

The book says in two months we can be speaking at a third grade level.' 'Third grade? That's for kids. Baby level.' 'If you don't try you'll be speaking at fetus level. Silent.

The recasting of fetuses as babies – tiny people who feel pain and are in need of society’s protection – amounts to nothing more than a cynical marketing campaign.

A midwife once told Erszébet of the üszögös gyermek, the stunted child, a premature fetus born alive, a scurrying spectral thing with a rat's feet and ears.Unless the stunted child is immediately destroyed, it will return to its mother's womb. It is something monstrous, grown in secret.

Could it possible for humans to breath under water? A fetus in its mother's womb is certainly alive in an aquatic environment. During the greatest holocaust the world has ever known, pregnant America-bound African slaves were thrown overboard by the thousands during labor for being sick and disruptive cargo. Is it possible that they could have given birth at sea to babies that never needed air. Are Drexians water-breathing, aquatically-mutated descendants of those unfortunate victims of human greed? Have they been spared by god to teach us or terrorize us? Their stories took one of the most gruesome details of the Atlantic slave trade and reframed it. The murder of enslaved women was reimagined as an escape from murderous oppression and the founding of a utopia civilization.

What do think about abortion?” “I could feel the tension growing in the plane. I dropped my head, acknowledging that we had very different value systems for our lives. Then I thought of a way to respond to his question. “You’re Jewish, right?” I asked. “Yes,” he said defensively. “I told you I was!” “Do you know how Hitler persuaded the German people to destroy more than six million of your Jewish ancestors?” The man looked at me expectantly, so I continued. ”He convinced them that Jews were not human and then exterminated your people like rats.” I could see that I had his attention, so I went on. “Do you understand how Americans enslaved, tortured, and killed millions of Africans? We dehumanized them so our constitution didn’t apply to them, and then we treated them worse than animals.” “How about the Native Americans?” I pressed. “Do you have any idea how we managed to hunt Indians like wild animals, drive them out of their own land, burn their villages, rape their women, and slaughter their children? Do you have any clue how everyday people turned into cruel murderers?” My Jewish friend was silent, and his eyes were filling with tears as I made my point. “We made people believe that the Native Americans were wild savages, not real human beings, and then we brutalized them without any conviction of wrongdoing! Now do you understand how we have persuaded mothers to kill their own babies? We took the word fetus, which is the Latin word for ‘offspring,’ and redefined it to dehumanize the unborn. We told mothers, ‘That is not really a baby you are carrying in your belly; it is a fetus, tissue that suddenly forms into a human being just seconds before it exits the womb.’ In doing so, we were able to assert that, in the issue of abortion, there is only one person’s human rights to consider, and then we convinced mothers that disposing of fetal tissue (terminating the life of their babies) was a woman’s right. Our constitution no longer protects the unborn because they are not real people. They are just lifeless blobs of tissue.” By now, tears were flowing down his cheeks. I looked right into his eyes and said, “Your people, the Native Americans, and the African Americans should be the greatest defenders of the unborn on the planet. After all, you know what it’s like for society to redefine you so that they can destroy your races. But ironically, your races have the highest abortion rates in this country! Somebody is still trying to exterminate your people, and you don’t even realize it. The names have changed, but the plot remains the same!” Finally he couldn’t handle it anymore. He blurted out, “I have never heard anything like this before. I am hanging out with the wrong people. I have been deceived!

Throughout pregnancy, I liked to lie in bed and imagine all the changes happening inside me: cells splitting, fingernails and eyelashes growing, veins spreading, brain and gray matter forming and folding.

I would counsel her to maintain the pregnancy on the grounds that the developing baby within her is a co-victim of the rapist's heinous crime. To kill the fetus, who is innocent of the offense, is to add insult to injury.

The task of the cervix is to stay closed, to make an impenetrable wall protecting the fetus, for approximately forty weeks of a pregnancy. After that, by means of labor, the wall must somehow become an opening. This happens through dilation, which is not a shattering, but an extreme thinning.

The laws they make in Washington aren’t put on the books because they work well—they’re put on the books because they represent the one right way to live. You may not have an abortion unless the fetus is threatening your life or was put there by a rapist. There are a lot of people who’d like to see the law read that way. Why? Because that’s the one right way to live. You may drink yourself to death, but if we catch you smoking a marijuana cigarette, it’s the slammer for you, baby, because that’s the one right way. No one gives a damn about whether our laws work well. Working well is beside the point….

The first music I ever heard was only one hundred and sixty days after I was conceived. Da dum Da dum Da dum Have you ever heard the sound a blessing makes? This is it. The first thing I ever saw was only one hundred and eighty days after I was conceived. It was a bright light soft like clouds warm like candles. Have you ever seen the colour of a blessing? This is it. The first time I ever suffered was in the three thousand and sixty seconds after I was born. I listened for her heartbeat. I searched for her light. I cried for the first time until she was born. Have you ever known a blessing? A twin is it.

It seems unlikely that premature babies can consciously feel pain before the twenty-ninth or thirtieth week. The pain sensors in the skin and the nerve pathways that convey pain signals are in place as early as the seventh week, enabling the fetus to respond to touch from a needle. But, contrary to the claims of fanatical pro-lifers, that certainly doesn’t constitute proof that the fetus can feel pain.

The thing with Jen ended with a pregnancy scare. She had seen my world and didn’t want to bring a baby into it. This led to some violent arguments during which I pointed out, loudly and in sprays of spittle, that if she got an abortion the fucking unborn fucking fetus would likely fucking haunt us—I mean literally haunt our home—until the day we died and possibly beyond. It turned out that was the wrong thing to say.

How strange that people who are active in the fight against racial prejudice and injustice—and rightly so—actually condone and promote the practice of abortion! Strange, too, that people who would never think of raising a hand in violence against a small child feel no compassion toward an even smaller child in its mother’s womb. Somehow the substitution of the word fetus for infant dulls people’s consciences. Yet the change in terminology in no way affects the real nature of such an act. Someone has asked, “What hope is left for a society in which mothers kill their own babies?” God’s attitude toward abortion is not affected by a change in terminology. He classifies it quite simply as “murder”—and deals with it accordingly. In nation after nation around the world today, millions of lives are being blighted by the curse that follows this act. The

At present premature babies in hospital endure numerous noxious procedures as a part of daily care: heel sticks with a needle to draw blood for tests, insertion of catheters into veins, lumbar punctures, insertion of breathing tubes, etc.16 At present, little concern is given to the potential pain of these tiny patients. Their discomfort would seem more worthy of concern than that of fetuses without a functioning central nervous system.

I wonder how long I’ve been the victim of subliminal messaging from a fetus. I wonder if it goes this way for all pregnant mothers: At first we fully recognize the existential threat that is growing inside us, but gradually evolutionary imperatives overcome the conscious mind’s objection, and the will to reproduce overcomes the will to survive, and the needs of the baby overcome the needs of the host, until the only choice left for us women is to be willing, happy participants in our own destruction.

In 1993, a New York hospital launched an aggressive program to screen Ashkenazi Jews for three genetic diseases, including cystic fibrosis, Gaucher’s disease, and Tay-Sachs disease (mutations in these genes are more prevalent in the Ashkenazi population). Parents could freely choose to be screened, to undergo amniocentesis for prenatal diagnosis, and to terminate a pregnancy if the fetus was found to be affected. Since the launch of the program, not a single baby with any of these genetic diseases has been born at that hospital.

Scientists have found that its presence begins to structure the male as different from the female right from the start, from the very beginning of the fetus’s evolution in the uterus (biologically, the original form is the female). Male and female differences in identity are already largely shaped at birth, and behavioral differences between the sexes are recorded very early, before social conditioning can play an effective role. Crudely put, baby girls are more interested in people, whereas baby boys are more interested in things.

Jamie came back to the apartment one night to find her spreading a viscous fluid onto a canvas. It was threaded wtih blood. "Good God," he said. "What the hell is that?" Pia didn't bother to look up but continued to knead the clear slime across the canvas. "It's my new piece." "But what is it?" He kept pointing. He'd never seen something so disgusting in his life. And her hands were completely in it. "It's Jodie's placenta. She gave it to me. I'm going to tack it up and let it dry on this canvas. Then I'm gonna glue-gun pictures of dead fetuses onto Lucite and make them the centerpeice." "Uh huh." She raised her sticky hands to him. "It's about women, you know? The way that the world opresses them, all right? And it's about babies, and . . . I don't know . . . I just got the placenta today." "Wow, that's wow . . . that's . . ." No words for this. He scratched his chin as she spread her hands in a concentric motion across the canvas. "So, do you really think anyone's gonna want to put that up on their wall when it's done?" he asked. She scowled, displeased.

Walter can starve to death or stumble into traffic and get mowed flat. He can ship out to some combat zone and get bayonet-raped. He’s nobody’s little baby, not anymore. Nobody gives a crap whether he lives or dies. But kill off a few of his fellow nobodies, and society will move Heaven and earth to keep track of him. A billion taxpayers will provide for his food and shelter for the rest of his life. Dress him in clean clothes. Stop eating, and they’ll shove a tube down his throat and pump him full of food, a treatment he hasn’t enjoyed since he was a fetus.

The cognitive capacities of near-term fetuses are even more remarkable. For example, fetuses can distinguish between two pairs of nonsense syllables (“biba” versus “babi”). How do you know? Get this—Mom says “Biba, biba, biba” repeatedly while fetal heart rate is monitored. “Boring (or perhaps lulling),” thinks the fetus, and heart rate slows. Then Mom switches to “babi.” If the fetus doesn’t distinguish between the two, heart rate deceleration continues. But if the difference is noted—“Whoa, what happened?”—heart rate increases. Which is what DeCasper reported.61

Pressing a palm against the new mother’s tummy, Eena closed her eyes and let the dragon’s soul kindle. Her mind sensed the fetus, picturing a disproportionately large head and little appendages still developing. She identified a rapid heartbeat pumping vital blood and nutrients throughout the body. She felt breathing-like movements and uncontrolled twitches that the mother could not yet perceive. She was aware of the massive reproduction of cells taking place, forming intricate, detailed anatomy. Here was a life-form. A young boy. He was healthy. So was his mom. It was remarkable.

Diana can read power levels,” Astrid said. “Did she ever…” Sam nodded. “She said the baby is a three bar. As a fetus. Who knows what it will be when it’s born. Or as it grows. Diana’s only, like, four or five months along. I should know exactly, but I forget. When she would talk about it I would kind of, you know.” He made a shivering move, like it all gave him the creeps. Astrid shook her head in disbelief. “Really. That’s the part of all this that makes you squirm: pregnancy.” “She made me touch her, you know, stomach. And she talked about her, um, her things.” He pointed at his chest and whispered, “Nipples.” “Yeah,” Astrid said dryly. “I could see where that would be devastating.

Opponents of abortion use the word baby to refer to the cluster of cells, the embryo, and the fetus alike. The very choice of the word baby imposes the idea of an independently existing human being. Whereas cluster of cells, embryo, and fetus keep discussion in the medical domain, baby moves the discussion to the moral domain. The issue of the morality of abortion is settled once the words are chosen. The purposeful removal of a cell group from the mother that does not constitute an independently existing, viable, or even a recognizable human being cannot be “murder.” The word “murder” is not defined as such a medical procedure. The purposeful killing of a “baby”—an independently existing human being—can be “murder.” Is

Many of these fears were also stoked by Aldous Huxley’s prophetic 1931 novel Brave New World. In this dystopia, there are large test-tube-baby factories that produce clones. By selectively depriving oxygen from these fetuses, it is possible to produce children of different levels of brain damage. At the top are the alphas, who suffer no brain damage and are bred to rule society. At the bottom are the epsilons, who suffer significant brain damage and are used as disposable, obedient workers. In between are additional levels made up of other workers and the bureaucracy. The elite then control society by flooding it with mind-altering drugs, free love, and constant brainwashing. In this way, peace, tranquility, and harmony are maintained, but the novel asked a disturbing question that resonates even today: How much of our freedom and basic humanity do we want to sacrifice in the name of peace and social order?

The conditions in the womb—in the intrauterine environment—influence the development of the fetus, so that subtly different conditions will lead, in effect, to the birth of newborns who respond differently to the environment they face outside the womb. In particular, the nutrients that the developing child receives in the womb—including the supply of glucose—pass across the placenta in proportion to the nutrient concentration in the mother’s circulation. The higher the mother’s blood sugar, the greater the supply of glucose to the fetus. The developing pancreas responds by overproducing insulin-secreting cells. “The baby is not diabetic,” says Boyd Metzger, who studies diabetes and pregnancy at Northwestern University, “but the insulin-producing cells in the pancreas are stimulated to function and grow in size and number by the environment they’re in. So they start overfunctioning. That in turn leads to a baby laying down more fat, which is why the baby of a diabetic mother is typified by being a fat baby.

Sometimes adoptive parents will go through a virtual pregnancy, using “birth clinics” or accessories called “tummy talkers,” package kits that supply a due date and body modifications, including the choice to make the growing fetus visible or not; as well as play-by-play announcements (“Your baby is doing flips!”) and the simulation of a “realistic delivery,” along with a newborn-baby accessory. For Second Life parents who go through pregnancy after adopting in-world, it’s usually with the understanding that the baby they are having is the child they have already adopted. The process is meant to give both parent and child the bond of a live birth. “Really get morning sickness,” one product promises. “Get aches.” Which means being informed that a body-that-is-not-your-corporeal-body is getting sick. “You have full control over your pregnancy, have it EXACTLY how you want,” this product advertises, which does seem to miss something central to the experience: that it subjects you to a process largely beyond your control.

The right to choose to abort a fetus is critical, as is the ability to effect that choice in real life, so it's great that Hillary Clinton wants to repeal the Hyde Amendment. But without welfare, single-payer health care, a minimum wage of at least $15--all policies she staunchly opposes--many people have to forgo babies they'd really love to have. That's not really a choice. It seems ill-conceived to have tethered feminism to such a narrow issue as abortion. Yet it makes sense from an insular Beltway fundraising perspective to focus on an issue that makes no demands--the opposite, really--of the oligarch class; this is probably a big reason why EMILY'S List has never dabbled in backing universal pre-K or paid maternity leave; a major reason 'reproductive choice' has such a narrow and negative definition in the American political discourse. The thing is, an abortion is by definition a story you want to forget, not repeat and relive. And for the same reason abortion pills will never be the blockbuster moneymakers heartburn medications are, abortion is a consummately foolish thing to attempt to build a political movement around. It happens once or twice in a woman's lifetime. Kids, on the other hand, are with you forever. A more promising movement--one that goes against everything Hillary Clinton stands for--might take that to heart.

But there was more than dullness in the confessional; it was not that by itself that had sickened him or propelled him toward that always widening club, Associated Catholic Priests of the Bottle and Knights of the Cutty Sark. It was the steady, dead, onrushing engine of the church, bearing down all petty sins on its endless shuttle to heaven. It was the ritualistic acknowledgment of evil by a church now more concerned with social evils; atonement told in beads for elderly ladies whose parents had spoken European tongues. It was the actual presence of evil in the confessional, as real as the smell of old velvet. But it was a mindless, moronic evil from which there was no mercy or reprieve. The fist crashing into the baby’s face, the tire cut open with a jackknife, the barroom brawl, the insertion of razor blades into Halloween apples, the constant, vapid qualifiers which the human mind, in all its labyrinthine twists and turns, is able to spew forth. Gentlemen, better prisons will cure this. Better cops. Better social services agencies. Better birth control. Better sterilization techniques. Better abortions. Gentlemen, if we rip this fetus from the womb in a bloody tangle of unformed arms and legs, it will never grow up to beat an old lady to death with a hammer. Ladies, if we strap this man into a specially wired chair and fry him like a pork chop in a microwave oven, he will never have an opportunity to torture any more boys to death. Countrymen, if this eugenics bill is passed, I can guarantee you that never again— Shit

But there was more than dullness in the confessional; it was not that by itself that had sickened him or propelled him toward that always widening club, Associated Catholic Priests of the Bottle and Knights of the Cutty Sark. It was the steady, dead, onrushing engine of the church, bearing down all petty sins on its endless shuttle to heaven. It was the ritualistic acknowledgment of evil by a church now more concerned with social evils; atonement told in beads for elderly ladies whose parents had spoken European tongues. It was the actual presence of evil in the confessional, as real as the smell of old velvet. But it was a mindless, moronic evil from which there was no mercy or reprieve. The fist crashing into the baby’s face, the tire cut open with a jackknife, the barroom brawl, the insertion of razor blades into Halloween apples, the constant, vapid qualifiers which the human mind, in all its labyrinthine twists and turns, is able to spew forth. Gentlemen, better prisons will cure this. Better cops. Better social services agencies. Better birth control. Better sterilization techniques. Better abortions. Gentlemen, if we rip this fetus from the womb in a bloody tangle of unformed arms and legs, it will never grow up to beat an old lady to death with a hammer. Ladies, if we strap this man into a specially wired chair and fry him like a pork chop in a microwave oven, he will never have an opportunity to torture any more boys to death. Countrymen, if this eugenics bill is passed, I can guarantee you that never again— Shit

She never knew what to expect: a lecture from a visiting doctor on the gory specifics of the procedure, complete with jars of fetuses in formaldehyde; an "ideation session" where they had to imagine alternate futures for their aborted children; a holovid showing bloody, half-aborted babies trying to crawl out of their mothers' wombs.

Here’s one useful hypothesis: when female fetuses and babies are exposed to higher levels of testosterone, their brains are partially masculinized, and this increases the chance that, later in life, they will become sexually attracted to women. Similarly, when male fetuses and babies are exposed to lower levels of testosterone, their brains become partially feminized, thereby increasing the chance that they will eventually become sexually attracted to men. There are several lines of evidence in support of this idea.

NARAL affiliates have conducted undercover “investigations” into pregnancy-resource centers called “Unmasking Fake Clinics,” accusing pro-life centers of misleading women with “lies” such as this one: “More than 67% of the locations intentionally referred to the fetus as ‘baby’ and told our investigator she was already a mother because she was already pregnant.”65

The sensation of a life being ripped away is an indescribable horror.

Did you know that fourteen days after conception, a fetus can hold a miniature tennis racket?” I said to someone in last night’s signing line. “It can’t return a serve—that comes later—but still, it’s a remarkable achievement.” Next I told someone that at the gestational age of two months, an unborn baby can tune a guitar and braid a lanyard. “Did you know,” I said to a woman named Barbara, “that three weeks after conception, an unborn baby can write a check?” She looked startled. “No one uses checks anymore!” And I said, as if that were the miracle, “I know!

But then, today, one sees these zombie-like Christian fundamentalists at abortion clinics, wrapping themselves in the Bible, accusing the women who have abortions and the medical personnel who perform them of being “baby-killers”—distorting what actually happens with an abortion, obscuring the reality that more than 90% of abortions take place during the first three months of pregnancy when the fetus is very small and not highly developed, and is far from being capable of life on its own. These Christian fundamentalist fanatics try to portray things as if fully developed and independent little children are being killed when fetuses are aborted. But, along with the gross ignorance that they are expressing and promoting, there is the profound hypocrisy and irony that the very Bible which they are wielding as a weapon against women with unwanted pregnancies—that very same Bible calls over and over again for slaughtering actual babies and infants.

Android Girl Just Wants to Have a Baby! The first thing I do when I wake up is run my hands over my body. I like to make sure all my wires are in place. I lotion my silicone shell and snap my hair helmet over my head. I once had a dream I was a real girl, but when I woke up I was still myself in my paleness under the halogen light. The saliva of androids emits a spectral resonance, barely sticky between freshly-gapped teeth. After they made me, the first thing they did was peel the cellophane from my eyes. I blinked once, twice, and cried because that's how you say you are alive before you are given language. They named each of my heartbeats on the oceanic monitor: Guanyin, Yama, Nuwa, Fuxi, Chang'e, Zao-Shen. I listened to them blur into one. The fetus carves for itself a hollowed vector, a fragile wetness. In utero, extension cords are umbilical. Before puberty, I did not know there was such a thing as dishonor. Diss-on- her. This is what they said when I began to drip petrol between my legs. A tension exists between ritual and proof, a fantasy and its execution. Since then, I have been to the emergency room twice. The first time for a suicide attempt, and the second time because my earring was swallowed up by my newly pierced earlobe overnight, and when I woke up, it was tangled in a helix of wires. The idea of dying doesn't scare me but the ocean does. I was once told that fish will swim up my orifices if I am no longer a virgin. Is anyone thinking about erotic magazines when they are not aroused, pubes parted harshly down the center like red seas? My body carries the weight of four hundred eggs. I rise from a weird slumber, let them drip into the bath. This is what I'll leave behind - tiny shards purer than me. I have always been afraid of pregnant women because of their power, and because I don't yet understand what it means to carry something stubborn and blossoming inside of me, screeching towards an exit. The ectoplasm is the telos for the wound. A trance state is induced when salt is poured on it, pixel by pixel. I wish they had made me into an octopus instead, because octopuses die after their eggs hatch and crawl out into the sea, and I want to know what it's like to set something free into the dark unknown and trust it to choose mercy. If you can generate aura in a non-place, then there is no such thing as an authentic origin. In Chinese, the word for mercy translates to my heart hurts for you. They say my heart continues beating even after it is dislocated from my body. The sound of its beating comes from the valves opening and closing like a portal - Guanyin, Yama, Nuwa, Fuxi, Chang'e, Zao-Shen. I first learned about love by watching a sex tape where a girl looks up from performing fellatio and says, show them the sunset. Her boyfriend pans the camera to the sky, which is tinged violet like a bruise. In this moment, the sky displaces her, all digital and hyped, and saturates the scene until it collapses on me too, its transient witness. I move in the space between belly ring and catharsis. That night I have a dream where I am a camgirl, but all I do on screen is wash my laundry. Everybody loves me because I am a real girl doing real girl things. What lives on the border between meditation and oblivion, static and flux, a pomegranate seed and an embryo? I set up my webcam in the corner of the room and play ambient music while I scrub my underwear, letting soap bubbles rise up from the sink, laughing when they overflow on the linoleum floor - my frizzy hair, my pockmarked skin, my face slick with sweat. A body with exit wounds. I ride the bright rails of an animal forgetting. And when I wake up, the sky is a mess of blue.

Mothers not only pass the harms of endocrine-disrupting chemicals on to their fetuses but on to even more distant generations. When a mother is exposed to EDCs, so too are her fetus's germ cells, which develop into eggs or sperm. "It's thought that during that exposure, the chemical can target those germ cells and do what we call reprogramming, or making epigenetic changes," says Flaws. "That can be a permanent change that gets carried through generations, because those germ cells will eventually be used to make the next generation, and those fetuses will have abnormal germ cells that would then go on to make the next generation." In the mid-20th century, scientists documented this in women who took a synthetic form of estrogen, called diethylstilbestrol or DES, to prevent miscarriages.? The drug worked as intended, and the women gave birth to healthy babies. But once some of those children hit puberty, the girls developed vaginal and breast cancer. The boys developed testicular cancer, and some suffered abnormal development of the penis. Scientists called them DES daughters and sons. "When those DES daughters and sons had children, we now have DES granddaughters and grandsons, and a lot of them have increased risk of those same cancers and reproductive problems," says Flaws. "Even though it was their great-grandmother that took DES and they don't have any DES in their system-their germ cells have been reprogramming, and they're passing down some of these disease traits." And now toxicologists are gathering evidence that mothers are passing microplastics and nanoplastics complete with EDCs and other toxic substances- to their fetuses. In 2021, scientists announced that they'd found microplastics in human placentas for the first time, both on the fetal side and maternal side.Later that year, another team of researchers found the same, and they also tested meconium-a newborn's first feces and discovered microplastic there too. Children are consuming microplastics, then, before they're even born.

When animals first evolved, they reproduced by laying eggs, and most creatures in the animal kingdom continue to give birth this way. Then, between 100 million and 200 million years ago, a shrew-like creature developed the capacity to gestate her young inside her own body—an extraordinary evolutionary advance because a fetus is much safer growing inside its mother’s body. It is only possible because of the placenta, a temporary organ that attaches to the uterus and allows nutrients and oxygen to pass from mother to baby, and carbon dioxide and waste to travel in the other direction, without provoking a devastating response from the mother’s immune system. There is nothing like this interface between the placenta and womb anywhere else in our bodies. When geneticists looked at the gene responsible for creating it, they realized that it was almost identical to those used by retroviruses to produce the proteins that attach to cells they are infecting without triggering an immune response.[24] The scientists concluded that a crucial function of the placenta didn’t emerge gradually as a result of evolution by natural selection but was suddenly acquired when a retrovirus inserted its DNA into our ancestor’s genome.

the separation process, in which mercury and cyanide were used to extract the gold from the ore. It would be dumped straight into rivers and streams, poisoning fish and drinking water. Where rivers ran past Indian settlements downstream from gold strikes, ulcers and suppurating sores were the order of the day. So were birth defects. The grieving nurse in Gorotire had delivered two stillborn babies in her first three months on the job. The fetuses’ brains were growing outside their skulls.

A week-old baby is not a rational and self-aware being, and there are many nonhuman animals whose rationality, self-awareness, capacity to feel and so on, exceed that of a human baby a week or a month old. If, for the reasons I have given, the fetus does not have the same claim to life as a person, it appears that the newborn baby does not either.

Dogs yawn … and cats and monkeys … and even three-month-old fetuses (but not chickens).

Toxoplasma gondii (T. gondii). This parasite, which is present in birds and cats, is the reason pregnant women are not supposed to scoop kitty litter. At least 40 percent and as much as 70 percent of humans in Western countries are infected with toxoplasmosis, which is completely asymptomatic unless you are immunocompromised or become infected while pregnant. (There is no risk to the fetus if you are infected with Toxoplasma gondii before becoming pregnant, but getting infected during gestation can cause a variety of serious health problems for the baby.) This parasite, while typically considered completely benign, is associated with increased risk of Alzheimer’s disease (a suspected autoimmune disease), Parkinson’s disease (a suspected autoimmune disease), Tourette syndrome, antiphospholipid syndrome, systemic sclerosis, and inflammatory bowel diseases.

There is another important objection to making viability the cut-off point. The point at which the fetus can survive outside the mother's body varies according to the state of medical technology. Until the development of modern methods of intensive care, it was generally accepted that a baby born more than two months premature could not survive. Now a six-month-old fetus – three months premature – can often be pulled through, thanks to sophisticated medical techniques, and fetuses born after as little as five and a half months of gestation have survived.

Listening helps you understand yourself as much as those speaking to you. It’s why from the time we are babies, we are more alert to the human voice and exquisitely tuned to its nuances, harmonies, and discordances. Indeed, you begin to listen before you are even born. Fetuses respond to sound at just sixteen weeks’ gestation and, during the last trimester of pregnancy, can clearly distinguish between language and other sounds. An unborn child can be soothed by a friendly voice and startled by an angry outburst.

Scientists know that the majority of pregnancy losses are caused by aneuploidy- chromosomal abnormalities that, for reasons we don't totally understand, result in forms of life that are incapable of being carried to term.

It wasn’t until the 1980s that it occurred to Republicans that they could lock in the religious vote by attaching themselves to the anti-choice movement. They abandoned the argument that abortion was an individual right and reframed the debate as one of the protection of fetal rights. The culture already treated women like vessels whose life purpose was the creation and carriage of babies. By prioritizing the welfare of fetuses, Republicans had turned women into second-class citizens and expendable ones at that.

Consider a report from the British newspaper The Observer three years ago: in the Ukraine, suffering so long under the atheist Soviet foot, pregnant women were being paid about $180 for their fetuses, which the abortion clinics turned around and sold for about $9,000. Why? The tissue was being used for beauty treatments. Pregnant women were and still are being paid to kill their babies so aging Russian women can rejuvenate their skin with fetal cosmetics.

It is astonishing to me that with all the medical advancements of recent times, they haven’t come up with a better way to do it. For goodness’ sake, not only does a woman have to house the fetus in her uterus for nine months and then push it out of an inadequately sized orifice (or, even worse, have it cut out of her if it won’t come by itself), she is then expected to care for the baby on an hourly basis, feeding it fluids from her still-healing body! Lunacy! There has to be a better way. But no matter how much I research it, I have yet to find an alternative.

It is disingenuous to claim that a fetus is not a definite, living human being. Those who have seen ultrasound images of pre-born babies have eyewitness, empirical evidence of the unborns’ living humanity.

As Michael Bauman of Hillsdale College frankly comments: We hide the fetal holocaust that surrounds us every day just as effectively as the Nazis hid their extermination of the Jews. And we do it the same way. We cannot bring ourselves to utter the “M” word, though we commit the “M” act. That is, we do not murder unborn children, we “abort fetuses”…. Some of the more squeamish among us are unable even to say the “A” word. Though by aborting fetuses rather than murdering babies our linguistic sleight of hand has hidden the real nature of our action (murder) and the real identity of our victim (baby), some people require a still heavier dose of verbal opium. We must tell them they are merely “terminating a pregnancy,” which eliminates overt reference to any living thing…. If “terminating pregnancies” is still too overt a verbal description because the word pregnant tends to evoke unfortunate images of happy women large with child, we can hide the crime behind an even more impersonal wall of words. We can say that the murdering of unborn children is nothing more than the voluntary extraction of the “product of conception,” or, as nearly all abortion clinics have it, “removing the POC.” What could be more innocent.20

For some time, an arbitrary line in the sand was drawn at the end of the first trimester as the demarcation marking the beginning of "life". Of course, advances in medical technology continued to force those who stood on that line to retreat further and further toward the beginning of gestation. For instance, it has been established that a fetus has brain waves which can be measured by EEG only 40 days after conception, and merely 18 days after conception, the fetus has a measurable heart beat. In fact, they were getting so close to the beginning of gestation, i.e., conception, that the PC pro-abortion genderists then had to adopt the more ephemeral "viability" position. Of course, according to their definition of "viability", comatose patients would not be considered human being because, in some ways, a fetus is actually more "viable" than someone who is comatose. As obstetrical and gynecological medicine continued its inevitable advance, revealing more and more about the nature of a human fetus, the pro-abortion forces continued their retreat until now they do not even discuss the fetus at all. As with all politically correct positions, if a fact gets in the way, it is simply changed or ignored. Unfortunately for the pro-abortion genderists, the fetus is a fact, a fact which is itself usually the result of "choices". Furthermore, the simple scientific fact is that at the moment of conception, the embryo is not a part of the mother's body. At that point and forever more it is a genetically distinct being with its own genetic code that is completely and totally different from every other human being who has ever lived or ever will live, including the mother. So here is the first instance of PC genderism crashing into scientific fact. It also seems ironic that while more and more law enforcement agencies in this country are now turning to DNA identification in criminal investigations and our courts are now admitting such identification as evidence in criminal prosecution, the rights of a fetus, which has its own, distinct DNA code at the moment of conception, are still not legally recognized in all cases. Now they are recognized in some cases, for there have been instances of people being prosecuted for two murders when they have killed pregnant women. There are also cases where mothers who have given birth to babies who are addicted to illegal drugs have been prosecuted, but there are no consistent standards or guidelines. It is also a macabre irony that in this country it is illegal to destroy the egg of an American bald eagle, but the government uses our tax dollars to destroy human embryos and fetuses.

Here are some musical selections you can play quietly for the fetus. Since these pieces may calm the baby after birth, it’s good to have a small but well-rehearsed repertoire. These are recommended by Dr. F. Rene Van de Carr and musician and retired professor Dr. Donald Shetler. Music for the Royal Fireworks, Handel “Spring,” from The Four Seasons, Vivaldi Air on the G String,J. S. Bach The Brandenburg Concertos, J. S. Bach Canon in D Major, Pachelbel Pictures at an Exhibition, Mussorgsky Slow steady pieces by Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, or Vivaldi Popular music by Tom Paxton, Burl Ives, Tom Chapin, and Raffi

As the twenty-first century began in South Africa, fifty thousand babies were born annually with the disease through vertical transmission from mother to fetus or from mother to infant during birth.

The prime and ultimate philosophical question has to do with the nature and destiny of man, Camus once wrote. And surely the nature of the embryo/fetus should be at the heart of any serious discussion of the ethic and morality of abortion. Here, not to define is to define; to ignore is to deny. When abortionists ignore the human manifestations of the developing baby, as established by genetics and microbiology, they define him out of the human race.

The Mozart Effect Effect thrives in a realm that is neither science nor art, a realm that is far more organically American: marketing. Megacorporations like “Baby Einstein” are born and flourish by promoting the disproven belief that blasting Mozart toward a baby—or even a fetus—can fast-track the kid to Harvard.