March 22, 2004
Birthchoice helps mothers to choose life
RALEIGH More than 30 new faces walk into Betty Rogosich's office in Raleigh each month, and most tell a similar story: I'm pregnant, and I don't know what to do.
But Rogosich does.
She's the director of Birthchoice, this thin lady with the gray hair and soft voice, and she adamantly believes a baby receives a soul at the moment of conception. For that reason she spends her days and not just a few nights at Birthchoice, one of a trifecta of pro-life agencies in the diocese that rely on few funds but many volunteers. Parish-based Project Gabriel distributes donated clothing and baby items for mothers, and Project Rachel holds retreats to help women and men heal after abortions.
The women are 'clients' to Rogosich. She listens to their stories from behind her desk, surrounded by overstuffed bags of clothes and bookcases crammed with brochures and literature on fetal development, sexuality and God's unconditional love.
These are what Rogosich uses, in part, to minister to women undecided about their unborn babies' futures. She tells them that the brain functions, that the baby can feel pain, at six weeks. She shows a model of the development stages, paying special attention to weeks 10-14, when 80 percent of all abortions occur. She shows a video of a doctor describing an abortion.
For many of the women, it's the first time they realize it's a baby.
Sadly, not everyone who comes through Birthchoice's door chooses life for her baby. But chances are that at some future date, when the need for healing supercedes remorse and guilt, that woman will contact Project Rachel.
It's the attitude at abortion clinics that often delays the grief and healing process, said Jackie Bonk, director of the local chapter of Project Rachel. "When a woman is pregnant, that's a reality. Whether to bring the child to term or have an abortion that's a choice," said Bonk. Having an abortion doesn't allow a woman to face that reality, because while her body, mind and soul are telling her that she's a mother, the abortion industry tells her she's not. "So when she has these emotions of grief, she can't mourn because there's no child she's been told there's no child."
Birthchoice has the opposite view. It manifests itself in the happy faces, the upbeat attitude, the willingness to drive women for sonograms and doctors appointments, to get them maternity clothes and give them baby books, to call Catholic Parish Outreach for groceries. If Rogosich had it her way, she'd have an ultrasound machine right there in her office so that anyone who doubted it was a baby could see the tiny image onscreen.
Some of the clients come straight from the abortion clinic, intercepted on the sidewalk by pro-life counselors who give them printed maps to Birthchoice.
What Rogosich hears over and over from the women is that they didn't know where to turn. Their situations are characterized by pressure and uncertainty, and usually little help from the baby's father.
But when the women return some months later bearing tiny bundles, Rogisich hears just one thing: "Thank you."