These days the liberal elite have such a strangle hold on entertainment, that when a couple of movies about unexpected abortion actually end in childbirth, the press stands aghast:
Clearly, both women have their reasons for choosing to continue their pregnancies, and both “Knocked Up” and “Waitress” end on optimistic notes, with their formerly ambivalent moms basking in the glow of maternal devotion (also known as hormones). But in neither movie is the choice portrayed as just that, an explicit choice. Rather, Russell’s and Heigl’s characters approach impending motherhood with the sort of grim resignation that suggests they have no other options. It’s a setup that has some viewers, especially women who came of age in a post- Roe v. Wade America, wondering just what world these movies are living in.
How sad and pitiful that this woman feels the “glow of maternal devotion” is nothing more than hormones. Is there no possibility that women actually love their children from the moment they are discovered, let alone born? How did we get to the point where not having an abortion is reason for ridicule or condemnation?
