The Unseen Image of God: An Expectant Mommy at the March for Life

Five 3-D sonogram photos of my unborn daughter hang on my refrigerator door. Five incredibly clear images of a 19-week-old life in utero. If you took a glance, then you’d see her tiny fingers, teeny toes, ears, eyes, and a fuzzy patch of hair growing on top of her head. If you looked closer and know my husband, then you’d notice she already bears a striking resemblance to her expectant daddy. But I don’t have to look at those pictures at all to know she also bears the image of her Heavenly Father.

My 20^th week of pregnancy aligned perfectly with this year’s March for Life, the largest pro-life rally in the world. My time spent at the Evangelicals for Life conference and March for Life rally were exceptionally emotional experiences.

As various pro-life experts addressed unborn children’s humanity, I sat in my seat feeling my unborn daughter wriggling and fluttering around in my womb.

I thought of my last pre-natal doctor’s appointment and of the ultrasound technician’s frustration as my daughter kept swishing away from every attempt to check her vitals.

I thought of how my unborn child has a morning routine as she prefers to practice her reflexes around 5:00 AM every day.

And I thought of the day I didn’t feel her move at all. The fear drove me to bounce and shake my belly in hopes of a response. Thank God, she wriggled and I was able to get some sleep.

No, this year I didn’t need pictures nor speakers to remind me of the sanctity of life in the womb.

As joyous an occasion as my pregnancy is, it is also filled with new levels of anxiety. Countless nightmares of misplacing, dropping, smothering, or breaking my baby persist. Worry? Check. Insecurities? Check. Second thoughts? At times.

“That’s normal,” they tell me. Sometimes I believe these well-intentioned consultants, and other times I don’t.

So as I stood at the 2017 March for Life rally, squished between more pro-lifers than I’ve ever seen in years past, I considered the sanctity of expectant mothers too. Some joyous. Others scared. Both bearers of babies and the image of God.

All this is to say, I’m grateful. I’m grateful our inherent dignity does not depend on our size, location, level of development, nor circumstances, because the image of God need not be seen to be known.

P.S. I shared a few more of these thoughts with the March for Life while attending their rally. Watch here: