Last Friday, I brought a group of twenty teens and adults to the 2017 March for Life.  We joined hundreds of thousands of other pro-life Americans who for the first time in years, maybe the first time in their lifetime, are asking if the end of Roe v. Wade might be in sight.  Many of my students could not remember the last time that a Republican had been president; at 13, most of them couldn’t even remember a time that Barack Obama was not president.  We were all excited to attend the March for Life- since it was snowed out last year, some of my teens have listened to me talk about the March for two years straight.  Now they were finally able to witness it themselves.

Just a week before the annual March for Life, hundreds of thousands of people joined in Washington DC for another type of March: the Women’s March on Washington.  I was not one of them.  My Facebook page was filled with photos from the event- countless friends and family members had attended the march, and their photos did more to communicate the main purpose of the event than any news blurb.  I scrolled through photo after photo of women holding up signs that read, “Keep your rosaries off my ovaries” and “Real women are pro-choice/pro-reproductive rights.”  I saw countless signs demanding that Trump should do atrocious things to himself.  I saw signs that depicted the female reproductive organs in a variety of manners, including some that were disgustingly sacrilegious.  A particularly disturbing sign read, “Keep your little hands away from me,” with the hands of an unborn child reaching towards heaven.  I couldn’t help but stare at that photo for a few long moments before I continued to scroll.  It was so disturbing, I found it difficult to look away.  These were the same little hands that pressed against my abdomen one year ago, the little hands that would wrap around my fingers, that would reach towards me in heart-felt love once my son was born.  But these little hands belonged to a creature that many in our society would consider a menace, merely because he lives, because he impinges on my freedom.

Countless women claimed that the women’s march was not a pro-choice march.  It was a march for equality, a march with the purpose of reminding President Trump that women are not objects to be mistreated, second-class citizens who do not deserve the same rights as men.  That’s what their comments suggested, yet their photos revealed something different: this march was about reproductive rights.  To suggest anything else would be lunacy.  In fifteen minutes of Facebook scrolling, I counted 56 photos pertaining to abortion and/or contraception.  The second most common sign?  With a whopping 3 photos: global warming.

And that’s why I didn’t march.  It wasn’t because I’m some woman-hater, or a Trump-lover.  I am not some misogynist who believes that women should be restricted to the kitchen and the bedroom.  I do not think that every woman needs to quit her job, get married, and have twelve children in rapid succession.  I did not vote for Trump.  I do not agree with the misogynist comments that he has made about women.  I think that he has behaved like an animal, and I despair of the fact that he has become our president.  If the women’s march had really been about standing up for women’s rights- her right to be treated as an equal, to be paid equal wages for equal work, to be both a mother and an employee/employer, you might have found me there.  If the women’s march had been about all women, I would have been there.  But it wasn’t.

A huge percentage of all women were welcome at the Women’s March on Washington, and I’m not even considering those who have not yet been born.  I was not welcome there, nor were the hundreds of thousands of women who self-identify as pro-life.  Only those women who agreed 100% with the liberal agenda were welcome there.  I was not.

I did not march because I was told that I was not welcome.  Hundreds of thousands of potential marchers were told that we were better off at home because we did not fit into their mold.  We are pro-life.  We fight for the rights of all women, both born and pre-born.  We fight for those little girls (and boys) who will one day grow up to be women (and men).  We fight for those women as well.  But apparently, those women do not count.  Those women do not deserve to have people fight on their behalf.  Those women, and their female champions, were not welcome at the Women’s March, for as the leaders declared in a public statement after dropping their pro-life partner New Wave Feminists, “The Women’s March platform is pro-choice and has been from day one.  We look forward to marching on behalf of individuals who share the view that women deserve the right to make their own reproductive choices.”

So let’s set the record straight: Not only were pro-life feminists not invited (the mere idea is considered an oxymoron to many liberals), but apparently none of our rights matter.  Apparently, those who marched last Saturday did not march for us.  They did not march for our rights because we don’t share the same views.  Apparently, our rights count for nothing.  Our existence as woman counts for nothing.  Unless we agree 100% with the liberal agenda, unless we designate ourselves as pro-choice, we don’t matter.  Our rights don’t matter.  So let’s all just be honest with one another: the Women’s March was not about all women, regardless of race, religion, or sexual orientation.  Sure, you could be black or white, Christian or Muslim, gay or straight; you just can’t be pro-life.

And that’s why I didn’t march.  The hypocrisy was just too disgusting.  You can’t claim that you march for all women, and then ostracize and condemn more than 50% of them.  That just doesn’t work.  You either march for all women, or you don’t, and according to the Women’s March platform, you didn’t.  I am a women.  I was unwelcome.  I am not alone.  I did not march.  But I do fight for the rights of all women.

This is why I marched last Friday, at the March for Life.  I marched because I fight for the rights of all women, including those in the womb.  I fight for the right to life.  I march because I believe that all women deserve to live.  I march because I believe that you don’t need to be wanted by your mother to be loved by your heavenly Father (and by one of the many infertile couples looking to adopt and love a child).  I march because all are welcome, whether you are male or female, black or white, Christian or Muslim, gay or straight.  The Women’s March was supposed to unite us, but by ostracizing more than 50% of women, it has only caused more division.  The March for Life can unite across boundaries in a way that the Women’s March inevitably failed because in the eyes of all who march, there is not a single person who is not valued and loved.

Mary Help of Christians, pray for us!