Open hands.

* Warning: This post may be offensive.

I was just struggling between my love for O&G (Obstetrics and Gynaecology) and a whimsical fancy to Ophthalmology (Eye) when I attended a talk by a theologian/O&G PhD graduate today and realised, that nothing could ever replace that special place O&G has in my heart.

He came to talk to us about the topic on the sanctity of life, and I knew it would be something close to my heart.

Abortions, how I hate that word. I hate it, because it makes a mockery of the women who, in spite of great pain and anguish but through much faith and trust, keep their babies who may be preterm (and have health implications later in life), may have birth defects or may die anyway. I hate that word because it makes me wonder what I would do if I learnt that my baby was abnormal. I hate it because of the terrible social and economic consequences not allowing it brings.

There are now much fewer people with certain types of abnormalities, due to the fact that people are now going for more abortions. Disallowing abortions for ethical reasons is a utilitarian nightmare. Why should it be wrong to abort a baby if we knew it was going to die anyway? Why should we subject a child to a diminished quality of life, knowing the implications of his abormality? Why should we consider a child with severe mental retardation a person if he is no more than a human being without any cognizance? These were the tough questions we discussed today, in light of understanding what the sanctity of life means.

After a friend raised these pressing questions, I shared about how an obstetrician once shared with me about a patient of hers who had such respect for God’s creation and such trust in God’s provision of strength that she carried a baby to full-term with the knowledge that it would die days after birth anyway. Every day after the baby was born, she would bring her other children to the hospital to visit her dying newborn and tell them that was their sibling whom God had blessed them with, if only for a short while. Her decision spoke volumes about the extent of her respect for God’s creation, for her trust in God to see her through such a trying period, for her receiving every pregnancy with thanksgiving. I often wonder what I would do, how I would react.

At the end of the talk, I asked, “It’s so easy to comment on how unethical it is to perform an abortion, even more so if the fetus is found to have a non-lifethreatening defect. But in the face of a low-income patient living in a one-room flat with 3 or 4 other kids to support, and knowing that even a simple defect could mean hundreds of thousands of dollars, staged surgeries and special education… how can I ever convince myself or her that not having an abortion would be the better choice?”

I am learning, that it’s easy to own the moral high ground when one is in a socio-economically and circumstantially privileged position.

To which the speaker replied, ” We live in a fallen world. There is no perfect system. But as far as possible, we can try and restore it to what it should be. Don’t you have money to share? Can we not rally around such patients, refer them to surgeons willing to waive fees, support their righteous decisions if they choose to make them, help them raise funds? We cannot force our decisions upon others, but when they choose the righteous ones, can we not support them?”

After which he shared story after story of how he had helped several Filipino children he had met on overseas trips with heart defects from birth, to have a chance at a new lease of life by arranging surgeries for them here. He even went as far as to bring one child to Singapore at least 3 times for follow-up care after his heart surgery.

What a fool, you might say. What a waste of time. What a sorry and unproductive waste of resources. Sure, I might agree with you for a moment. I mean, why spend $40’000 on Alisha right, when all that money could be spent elsewhere?

I am learning, that our world is not perfect and hence we often make imperfect decisions to solve our complex problems. But to make a real difference wherever we are, we have to go against the norm, go out of our way, go the extra mile, in order to impact others, one life at a time. It is up to us to decide if it is worth it.

And as he shared about how he had brought child after child he had met while doing humanitarian work to Singapore for surgery, and told of how we ought to love the world one person at a time, and go the extra mile for needy patients, tears started to gush out of my eyes as I thought of Alisha. Wait a minute, wasn’t this exactly what she had taught me to do?

“But how is it possible for us to help all our patients?” I asked.

“That is up to us, up to an entire community. Have you heard of being openhanded? Look at my hands when I spread my fingers out like an open palm. I only hold what is enough for me. Everything else, flows out past my fingers to others. Only take what you need- everything else can be given away.”

Suddenly, it reminded me of my bike and Alisha. I know deep in my heart, that if I didn’t give up that money for her operation, surely someone else would have donated the money. But deep down inside, I felt this was just God’s small way of putting me through a test, His way of preparing me for greater sacrifices in future.

I am learning, we don’t need a lot of things- it is society which makes us believe so. If only we all just spent on what was just enough for ourselves, surely there would be enough to go round.

Abortions are not just the problem of the immoral or irresponsible person. It may sound ludicrous, but perhaps, to some extent, unborn children are our responsiblity, our collective responsibility to help and to save, too. Does my spending choices affect my ability to give to the needy? This is something I have been challenged to think about.

I am learning, that I must learn to live on less, to love more and live larger. I am learning, to open my hands and let the gold-dust fall through my fingers.

Have you learnt to open your hands?