One of the Mormon families I knew demonstrated a commitment to pro-life that I hope to never see again.
After three children, the couple was told that a fourth would endanger the mother’s life because of a serious heart problem. She was determined to have another baby and got pregnant.
She dropped dead in her kitchen several months into the pregnancy, home alone with the youngest of her three children. The other two, who were in early elementary school, arrived home from school that day to find an ambulance at their house. Her death ripped the family apart.
The father was clueless about taking care of children because that had been his wife’s job. He remarried a divorcee with two children of her own a few years later. That marriage ended within about three years. The second wife dedicated her life to helping him and his children, who by then were running into trouble with drugs and skirting trouble with authorities. In the end, she couldn’t sacrifice her own health and the well-being of her two biological kids (all five kids were teenagers at this point), and she moved out. A couple years after that, the father brought in another, younger, woman with two younger children. His own were all out on their own by this point.
The mom was sort of a wreck. Seemed like she maybe bounced from one household to another and dragged her kids with her. All four of them, (two kids, mom, and the original neighbor) moved away. One of the saddest things I’ve heard was when the older daughter, in 6th grade at the time, mentioned that she was moving. Again. Didn’t know where. She got wistful and said, “I was starting to like living here.”
To be fair, the original neighbor was a good guy. A nice man. Friendly. Incompetent as a single father, not capable of controlling his kids after their mother died (no doubt he struggled as well), but I’m sympathetic toward him.