In a historic and long-overdue correction, the United States Supreme Court rightfully overturned Roe v. Wade, affirming that there is no constitutional right to end an innocent human life. The decision returned the issue of abortion to the states and, more importantly, to the conscience of a nation that must once again recognize the fundamental truth: life is sacred. From the moment of conception, a unique and irreplaceable human soul begins its journey. It is not our place—nor within our moral authority—to decide when that life ends. Only God, the Author of Life, holds that power.

Abortion is not a matter of “choice”; it is a matter of life and death. The euphemisms used to mask this horror—”reproductive rights,” “bodily autonomy”—ignore the core reality that another body, another human being, is involved. Every heartbeat stopped, every life ended in the womb, represents a tragic loss not only for that child, but for a society that has drifted dangerously far from its moral compass.

Furthermore, the normalization of abortion has led to a wider cultural degradation. Pregnancy is no longer viewed as a sacred gift, but as an inconvenience to be managed or outsourced. The rise of gestational surrogacy (PGA) is a direct consequence of this devaluation. Where once children were conceived in love, within the bonds of natural family, we now see the commodification of human life—children bought, sold, and manufactured on demand.

It is especially troubling that this industry increasingly caters to same-sex couples, who seek to create a family through transactional means, often with little regard for the emotional and psychological consequences on the child. These children are born not out of the natural union of mother and father, but through contracts, payments, and third-party wombs. Where are the rights of these children? Who speaks for their need for identity, for roots, for a mother and a father?

The duty to protect life does not rest solely on individuals—it is a solemn responsibility of the State. Just as our government rightly enforces laws to safeguard public health, defend the environment, and protect endangered species, it must also rise to defend the most vulnerable human beings: the unborn. If our legal system recognizes the value of life in so many areas, how can it remain silent when a child in the womb—whose only crime is to exist—is targeted for termination? A just society is measured by how it treats those with no voice. And there is no voice more silenced than that of the unborn child. To permit abortion is not neutrality; it is state-sanctioned violence against the innocent.

Moreover, the psychological consequences for children born through commercial surrogacy are only beginning to surface. Separated from their biological origins and brought into the world by contract rather than covenant, these children may face deep emotional wounds. Studies suggest that identity confusion, emotional detachment, and questions of self-worth can plague those born from anonymous gamete donation and surrogate pregnancies. How can we justify a system where a child’s foundational need—to know and be loved by their biological parents—is deliberately severed in order to satisfy adult desires? The rights of these children are not abstract; they are real, urgent, and too often ignored in the pursuit of personal fulfillment. Children are not commodities. They are persons, and their dignity must come before adult convenience.

We must ask: What kind of society do we become when children are no longer gifts, but products? When human life is subordinated to adult desire and convenience, we are not advancing—we are regressing into a moral wilderness.

The path forward is clear. We must continue to protect the unborn, support mothers in need, and restore the cultural understanding that life is inviolable, that parenthood is a vocation, not a purchase, and that every child deserves to be conceived in love, not in a lab. Our laws must reflect not just what is legal, but what is right. And what is right is to defend life—at all stages, for all people, without exception.

Let me hear your voice