Death at Walmart

Our morning trip to Walmart was eye opening. The kind of eye opening that you wish you could un-see. Because my eyes were opened to a world that I wish didn't exist.

After grabbing a few midweek groceries (and spending a lot of time watching Hannah show me how to put the limes in the bag sloooooowly) (the limes are for margaritas, definitely worth a mid week grocery trip) we headed to the other side of the store to get a few random items. Tissue paper, aluminum foil, eye drops. And that's when I saw it. Right next to the eye drops on the second highest shelf amongst the pregnancy tests and ovulation predictor kits.

Plan B. On the shelf. Just waiting to be picked up by some poor, desperate woman trying to escape her pain.

I mean, I know it's available over the counter now. I've known this for a while. But reading a news article (how many years ago did I even read that?) is easy to forget. It's easy to be outraged at what I see on the screen, but then eventually I have to go about my day and I sort of just forget about it. But this was the real thing, right in front of my face. At eye level and dressed up in a pretty pink and purple box.

After the eye drops, we went back to check out the prices on bikes. Hannah's been watching the bigger kids ride bikes on our street every night with a look in her eyes that says, "they must be having more fun than I could ever imagine having!" Of course she found one she loved and of course I let her try it out and of course she threw a fit when I tried to get her back in the cart. So ya know what? I just bought the bike. Ted's been asking me to keep my eyes out for a cheap one at a consignment store or Craigslist. But sometimes you just can't wait for the deal. Sometimes you just gotta bite the bullet and fork over 40 bucks for a bike. (40 bucks, am I the only one who thinks that's a helluva lot of money??)

The bike went into the cart. The girl happily skipped beside me for the rest of the trip. And on the way home she said repeatedly, "We buy a bite! I yite (like) my bite!"

Paul, well he got nothing. But look how happy he was about it!

To think that "emergency contraceptive" (read: death pill for an itty bitty baby) is sitting on the shelf at the Walmart just down the street makes me sick. To think that I, a Walmart shopper armed with a little bit of cash, could pick up that pretty pink and purple box and kill my newly conceived child is mind boggling. Only myself and some clueless Walmart checker would know. It would be so easy. So cheap. So "painless".

To think I could have snuffed out these little lives with the swipe of my card and washed them down with a glass of water. A precious little baby, who won't ever get to ride her first bike. Or turn heads with his adorable smile. A mother who will never know her baby. And who probably needs a lot more help than that little box could ever offer her. A father who doesn't even know he could be a dad.

When death can be purchased over the counter off a Walmart shelf for $49.95, well that's just the end of moral civilization as we know it. And if it's not, then I'm absolutely terrified of what's still to come.