Human

Guest Post by Juliana Schmit

my little boy, the joy of my life

my ambitious two-year-old son

he can walk, speak, and point out a cow

or run away when he hears me say “come”

Be it impatience or gleeful song,

the span of his emotion is clear:

he croons “poor baby” to his crying sister

compassionately drawing her near

he is warmly and vividly flesh and blood

his being thrives with life

I’ve bandaged his bleeding and iced his bruises

and kept his tiny feet covered at night

I’ve seen his eyes, their melty brown light

look wounded when I snap too loud

and I’ve seen them crinkle and shine in wonder

when I hold him and say that I’m proud

he knows he’s a person, a funny one, too

he entertains and adores the spotlight

he knows he’s captured the heart of his father

who rushes home to him each night

Anyone could see the way he grows

in every aspect, every day

but who would look and make the claim

“Boy, your fertilized egg turned out great!”

I’d probably turn and furrow my brow

but before I could even respond

would another exclaim “yes it was nice of you

to let that unviable tissue inside of your womb live on!”

are we looking at the same child, I wonder

could they purposely be so blind

so eager to accept mainstream euphemisms

and dismiss my child with practiced lines?

because this toddler that I’m looking at

is a human now, he always was

there was never a magical day when he changed

from a blob to human flesh and blood

if he started off as merely tissue

not a child, but something dismissable

was there a period of time when the change

took place that made him less discardable?

did it start at his head and work its way down

from blob to boy, he slowly changed

was a third of him a human at one point

and then half of him human the next day?

and was two-thirds of him then human (just not the feet)

was he almost done being a “parasite”?

or did it happen in an instant

with a tiny sparking poof of light

the day the laws made it illegal

for me to “get rid of” him

is that the day my son earned the right

to finally be called “human”?

Others might’ve asked of my unborn son

“but will he have financial opportunity?

because if he’s just going to be one more poor person

we might put his personhood under scrutiny.”  (he might not get that title back!)

Well, he’ll have food and clothes to wear

but if necessities were at risk

his father who is man enough to be a father

would work three jobs to take the brunt of it.

“But if you didn’t know his father,

the child was forced on you, a hurtful burden

surely you would have consented then

that he was a problem and you were undeserving.”

and then I’d hang my head in grief

for women who bear that scar…

but a human created in cruelty and hate

is still a human when it’s torn apart.

My son in his first month, unborn

was human, science cannot deny

and he had the right to be called “human”

even if I’d wanted him to die.

the line of development he’s followed

has never been broken from conception through now

silent and defenseless then

he has become dramatic and loud!

my little boy is running in circles

and jabbering as I type

he knows nothing of “tissue” and “parasite”

and “blob of cells” or pro-choice hype.

I am the only one who carried him

who felt his body growing week by week

and being his mother gives me the unopposable authority

to declare that he was human while he was the weakest of the weak.

everything of intelligence, of study

everything of science, faith and reason

acknowledges that my son who is is my son who was

and he’s always had the right to be called human.

Let’s Call It What It Is: “Human”  by Juliana Schmit