Bella's Gift

by Rick Santorum

  Rick’s staff laid the decision squarely on our shoulders. They shied away from any political talk, offering prayers and support. Rick and I went back and forth about the possible outcomes. What if people found out what hospital she was in? Would they try to catch a glimpse of her as fodder for the nightly news? A million thoughts ran through my head. I didn’t want to put her in the line of fire. But what if people did pray for her? We talked to a dear friend about the decision. He reminded us, “God gave you the gift of Bella, but her story is not your own.” He was right. After praying together, we decided to introduce the world to our little girl.

  The press release went out. We took a leap of faith that God would protect Bella and our family. Sitting in the tiny hospital room, Rick and I kept watch at her bedside that afternoon. As I read our drowsy little girl The Runaway Bunny, I glanced at Rick, who had fallen asleep sitting up in a chair. He deserved some shuteye. I don’t know if he’d truly gotten a good night’s sleep in the past year.

  Sure enough, he was awakened a few minutes later by the buzz of his phone that never seemed to stop. New e-mail. New phone call. New text message. New news. New challenges. New victories. He started to respond and looked at me, bleary-eyed, then put his phone and tablet on the table. He came and sat next to me. We finished reading the book to her together, drowning out the sound of beeping monitors and buzzing phones.

  As the day went on, the response to the news that Bella was in the hospital overwhelmed us. Our in-boxes were flooded with notes of encouragement, prayer, and support. The witness of a three-year-old little girl moved people in all walks of life from around the country. We got notes from people who didn’t agree with Rick politically that said, “Thank you for being a voice for the special-needs community” and “I really admire you for taking time away from the campaign trail to be with your little girl.”

  Bella did something in the midst of a heated primary season that no one had been able to do until this point: she refocused our family and many others on what was really important. For the first time, there was unity between the campaign camps as people prayed for Bella. Rick received thoughtful notes from many of the other candidates who were offering prayers for our little one.

  Suddenly, Bella was headline news. Featured in major papers and on the largest networks nationwide, our three-year-old was a subject of national interest. For the most part, the dialogue was positive. People talked about her tenderly, even sweetly. I admit that I was happily surprised. I hadn’t known what to expect. I had feared they wouldn’t see her the same way we did, that they would see her as broken or sickly. She is neither. Bella is a joyful gift, a sweet little girl who gives nothing but love.

  Commentators started discussing important issues surrounding the special-needs world, such as the legal struggles that occur when special-needs children aren’t given fair medical treatment, or any treatment at all. A whole host of issues were brought to the forefront of the debate, dealing with families, the pro-life movement, the special-needs community, and so much more. It was as though people realized the pro-life movement doesn’t end at birth, but it continues at the bedsides of the disabled, the elderly, and the vulnerable. Bella put a face on the helpless, those whom society looks upon as “useless.” Ironically, these children give perfectly the most important thing of all: love.

  Like so many times before, we took turns staying with Bella and spending time with the other kids at home. She was never alone. As we watched over her, we witnessed something miraculous. Within twenty-four hours of the press releases going out, Bella turned the corner. She went from critical condition, almost ready for a ventilator, to being clearly on the way to healing. Rick and I firmly believe in the power of prayer. As I watched Bella smile again, her overnight transformation witnessed to the belief that prayer can do improbable, if not impossible, things.

  We ultimately decided to continue in the campaign for the same reasons we had decided to get into the race in the first place. The motivating force was the future of our children, especially Bella, in the wake of the Affordable Care Act and its effects on our nation and, in particular, children with disabilities.

  People all over the country fell in love with our little girl, and from then on, “How is Bella?” was the main question everywhere we went. We carried pictures of her to show when someone asked about her.

  As folks started to learn more about Bella, we discovered that more and more people were bringing their special-needs kids, like Julia, to our campaign events. We even met several beautiful children with Trisomy 18. The parents of these children talked to us about their struggles, and all were different, but a common thread ran through their experiences: the irreplaceable joy and love their mentally or physically challenged children brought to their lives.

  During the past few years, many people have encouraged us to tell Bella’s story, to write about her. The problem was we did not know where to begin or what to say. Bella is only a little girl. In the eyes of the world, she is not particularly successful or accomplished. On the other hand, she is larger than life, and her few years have allowed her to impact the lives of many. Our frustration was not tied to a constricting word count, but rather to the boundaries of language.

  Words don’t do justice to her sea-blue eyes, her smile that overwhelms your heart, or her giggles that have all of us in stitches. Language has its limitations. With that in mind, we hope to share the story of a little girl who has never lived according to her limitations, but rather by the boundless nature of her spirit.

  4

  LOVE ENGAGES THE WILL

  • Rick Santorum •

  As in water face answers to face,

  so the mind of man reflects the man.

  —PROVERBS 27:19

  Being pro-life can mean different things to different people. Living pro-life is a definitive walk. Gabriel and Bella transformed a policy position of defending the unborn to a passionate battle for the dignity of every human life.

  Contrary to the media characterization of pro-life politicians being driven by their religious beliefs, I decided to defend human life from conception until natural death through science. Like most Americans growing up in the sixties and seventies, I didn’t give abortion much thought. It had not touched my life or my friends or family, so I was never confronted with the choice. If the topic ever came up in conversation, I steadfastly took an accommodating stance.

  That was possible, even in political circles, thirty years ago. I had been in politics since my college days and had even worked for a state senator, Doyle Corman, who was a pro-choice Republican from central Pennsylvania. Senator Corman and his wife, Becky, are like second parents to me. And their son, Jake, who replaced his father in the state senate, is like my little brother. During the entire time I worked for Senator Corman in the early 1980s, I don’t recall a single serious conversation about the abortion issue, probably because in those days it was easy to steer clear of “those” types of issues.

  That noncommittal stance served me well until after a few years of practicing law. I had this ridiculous idea at age thirty to run for the United States Congress in suburban Pittsburgh. To my surprise, I started to get questions about my position on abortion. In the first few exchanges with voters, I practiced the chameleon approach. Unfortunately, this multiple-choice position on abortion soon proved untenable—who knew? This was a serious and increasingly important public policy issue, and I needed to give it the same rigorous analysis as taxes or foreign policy.

  At that time I was a churchgoer, but more of a punch-your-time-card-on-Sunday kind of Catholic. I knew my church’s position on the issue, but that wasn’t going to be the deciding factor. I treated abortion like every other issue; I wanted to get all the facts before making my own decision. As a lawyer, I had read Roe v. Wade and thought I had a handle on the law. The Supreme Court in 1973 stated that they couldn’t determine when life began, so they ruled that a fetus doesn’t have any rights during the first three months of pregnancy. A
fter that, the fetus acquired some rights in the second trimester and even more in the final trimester. If the science backed this understanding of the nature of the human fetus, that biologically and even metaphysically the fetus is not fully human, then I would be on board with the court. If not, then it all depended on where the science led.

  I discussed my conundrum with my then girlfriend, now wife. It so happened that her father, Dr. Ken Garver, was a world-renowned specialist in medical genetics. He was also a great defender of children with Trisomy 21 and wrote extensively about the dangers of eugenics. Who better to ask the facts about the science of when human life begins? (It was also a great way to make a good impression on my future father-in-law.)

  My position on abortion would boil down to two points—one legal, one medical. The legal issue was straightforward. The Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution states, “nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law.” The Amendment doesn’t define person, but it does define citizen as “all persons born and naturalized in the United States.” So the unborn are not citizens, but are they persons, and therefore entitled to protection from laws that legalize abortion?

  Who qualifies as a person? Webster defines person as “a human being.” So at what point does humanity begin? I wanted Dr. Garver to help me answer the question: At what point do those cells in a mother’s womb become a “human being”?

  After dinner Karen’s dad walked me though the scientific literature to explain not only when life begins but also the scientific consensus on this point. He was such a bright and caring person, and he spoke in a way that was understandable to someone without a medical degree. Here is the long and short, in layman’s terms, of my lesson that night: A zygote is created at fertilization, or conception. A zygote has the complete complement of unique human genetic material, thus at that point it is human. A human zygote can’t develop into a kangaroo or a mouse; it is human.

  Is it alive? Webster defines life as “an entity that metabolizes, or converts fuel into energy.” Dr. Garver pointed out that from the moment of conception, the zygote begins to metabolize. In other words, the zygote is genetically human and alive and, therefore, a human life or person. I love my father-in-law for many reasons and will always be grateful to him for guiding me on so many important issues.

  From that night forward, I knew I had to be pro-life. Years later—in fact, right after the 2012 campaign—a television host in California introduced me to his audience by stating, “The Senator believes life begins at conception—”

  I interrupted him immediately and emphatically said, “No, I don’t!” The host froze right on national TV.

  “You don’t?”

  “No,” I said. “I know life begins at conception.” I wasn’t going to let this reporter put my pro-life position in the realm of faith or belief. I came to my decision based on science and 4D ultrasounds that allow us to look with stunning detail at the baby in the womb and reinforce what science confirms.

  Why isn’t everyone pro-life? I know many otherwise wonderful people who elevate personal autonomy over the rights of “a group of cells that don’t look like a cute little baby.” But even most who hold that opinion also oppose abortions when the fetus begins to look more like a baby.

  Gabriel and Bella were both candidates for abortion. Both infants’ obstetricians felt compelled to advise us that the most popular option for parents carrying children like Gabriel and Bella was termination—in other words, abortion. In a world that values abilities, either physical or mental, a child that is disabled is less valued, particularly in the womb. I witnessed this debate firsthand before either Gabriel or Bella were born.

  When I came to the United States Senate, I had a 100 percent pro-life voting record in my four years in Congress, but I never took to the floor to debate the issue. In fact, I had made up my mind that I would never cross that red line in politics where I would be marginalized as a pro-life zealot. In all likelihood, one or two speeches on abortion would not draw the wrath of the abortion-supporting media and interest groups, but coming from a lean Democratic state like Pennsylvania, why risk it?

  That was the game plan, but in my first year in the Senate, I went through a spiritual transformation. I often say I came to the Senate and found the Lord! Many people think He has long abandoned that place, but in fact, I found many people of faith not only in the Senate but also in ministries devoted to helping people working in the Capitol.

  It just so happened that this spiritual transformation was occurring at the time the Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act was being debated in Congress. This bill sought to ban an abortion procedure performed on babies that were at least twenty weeks old. I was appalled to learn it was legal for a twenty-week-old fetus to be deliberately delivered alive in a breech position, then killed by the doctor as he or she held the baby and thrust pointed scissors into the base of the baby’s skull. I was shocked even more by watching senators defend this horrific procedure. I could no longer stay silent. I decided to rise and speak against the gruesome practice.

  When I went to the Senate floor to speak, you would have thought I had never spoken in public in my life. I was done before I realized what I had said, which turned out to be little more than gibberish. Thankfully, my staff kindly cleaned up my remarks in the Congressional Record so they could make some sense. Nine months later, due to a variety of circumstances, including my finding faith, I was on the Senate floor again talking about the issue, only this time I was leading the debate. I was now managing the override of President Clinton’s veto.

  The debate was as intense as a debate over life and death should be. Even though I was trained as a lawyer, I had done very little criminal work other than an internship at a public defender’s office during law school. During that debate, I felt I had to bring the passion of a defense attorney who was trying to save an innocent client from being executed. But it wasn’t just one, but hundreds of victims, who would die a brutal death if I failed.

  Even though I was in my first session as a senator, it was not my first time around the block. I had managed the welfare reform bill earlier that summer to successful passage, so I was ready for action. But this was a battle beyond the object of the legislation. This was the ultimate moral and spiritual battle playing out on an unlikely stage. As a thirty-eight-year-old first-term senator talking publicly about this grave issue for the first time, I should have felt chastened or even overwhelmed. I didn’t. Thanks to prayers of support, I had never felt more in the zone.

  President Clinton had vetoed a few bills from the Republican Congress, including welfare, but this was the first congressional attempt to override a veto. That was front-page news in every paper in America. As expected, the House had easily overridden his veto, so all the coverage was on the debate in the Senate, where the result was uncertain. This debate was not just about the bill at hand, but the coverage was going to shape public opinion in advance of an election and provide the arguments for candidates running against opponents of the ban in key Senate races around the country. The debate on the Senate floor really mattered.

  In the closing hours of the debate, I was struck by the defense mounted by the pro-abortion senators. Senator Dianne Feinstein from California succinctly advanced their argument: “Some women carry fetuses with severe birth defects late into pregnancy without knowing it. For example, fetal deformities that are not easy to spot early on in the pregnancy include: cases where the brain forms outside the skull, or the stomach and intestines form outside the body, or do not form at all; or fetuses with no ears, mouths, legs, or kidneys.”

  She and other senators were using examples of children with disabilities (some with problems that are treatable) to justify their opposition, suggesting that the government should not stand in the way of parents who want to kill their children once they find out their babies aren’t perfect. While this stance came as a shock to me, particularly from some senators who had taken the lead in adva
ncing the cause of the disabled, in retrospect it shouldn’t have. I knew that a very high percentage of parents who find out about disabilities through prenatal testing abort those babies. Some studies have put the abortion rate in such cases as high as 90 percent.

  Let’s set aside the fact for now that, according to doctors who performed this procedure, 99 percent of these abortions were performed on healthy babies; let’s wrap our minds around the idea that dozens of US senators, including, later on, Hillary Clinton, opposed the partial-birth abortion bill because it protected disabled children from death.

  I don’t recall any of these senators during the course of six debates over eight years ever citing the case of a healthy baby to rationalize their opposition. This bias drove me to respond: “Think about the message we are sending to the less-than-perfect children of America and the mothers who are right now dealing with the possibility of delivering an abnormal baby. My wife is due in March. We haven’t had a sonogram done. We are hopeful that everything is fine. What message are you sending to me in looking at that sonogram in a week or two, if the doctor says to us that our child isn’t what we want?”

  Even though we lost the fight, I felt certain I was following God’s will. I was devoting more time at home to Karen and our three little ones, and my prayer life was better than ever. Less than a week later, Karen, the kids, and I walked into that sonographer’s office, and that doctor, in fact, did tell us that Gabriel was going to die.

  I had followed what I thought was God’s will to defend the lives of these little babies from a horrible death, and He kicks me in the head? My son’s condition could have been an example used by Senator Feinstein as a reason to abort. I was now forced to decide whether I was going to be true to my words, which had been so easy to speak on the Senate floor. Was Gabriel indeed no different from any of our other children?