I spotted one of my favorite signs from the 2025 March for Life at the pre-march rally on the grounds of the Washington Monument. Next to a sonogram of an unborn baby and photos of the same baby as a newborn and a toddler, it read, “Gemma in the womb … outside the womb … always Gemma!” Holding the sign? Gemma herself, now a middle schooler. She told me her dad made the poster when she was small and has been bringing it — and her — to the march for years.
Gemma’s sign about the value of life at all stages was a good fit with the back-to-basics theme of this year’s event. Organizers said they chose the theme “Life: Why We March” to re-energize the pro-life movement with the “truth that … every human life — including the unborn and their mothers — is beautiful, has unique dignity, and [is] worthy of protection.”
It’s really the only reason you need to protest abortion. But it wasn’t the only reason tens of thousands of people flooded downtown D.C. in near-freezing temperatures last Friday. No doubt some of them were also marching to see and spend time with friends. Some were probably marching, in part, because a day outside is more fun than a day in the office or classroom, even in January. It’s possible a few people were marching because they really do hate women and want to control their bodies — but I didn’t meet any of them.
Signs of life
On the other hand, I did meet a young woman holding the hand-lettered message “Make the choice to give them a chance! #BirthMom”. I asked her about the hashtag, and she explained that she became pregnant a few years ago as a college athlete. Despite her pro-life convictions, she was momentarily tempted by the idea that she could take a few pills and pretend the pregnancy had never happened. She ultimately placed her daughter, who is now about 18 months old, with an adoptive family. She was marching as a birth mom, in witness to the beauty of open adoption.
Nearby, another woman held up a placard that read “Babies survive abortions. I am one of them.” She shared the story behind her sign: Adopted as a baby, she became interested as an adult in trying to find her birth mother. Her adoptive mother at first reacted strangely to her questioning but soon sat her down to tell her what she knew — that she had somehow survived an attempted abortion after 20 weeks. The woman pointed out that some people deny abortion survivors exist, but here she was, marching with the Abortion Survivors Network, an organization that has connected about 900 of them.
Marching for those who can’t
Walking up Constitution Avenue toward the Capitol, I noticed a cluster of homemade posters quoting a name I did not recognize. One of them read, “Imagine a world where every person is loved and valued from the moment their life begins — David Sao.” Who is David Sao, I asked? The twenty something woman holding the colorful sign explained that she was a missionary with The Culture Project, a group that educates teens about human dignity and virtue. David was the organization’s chief creative officer; he died suddenly, only 40 years old, the day after Christmas. She and her fellow missionaries were marching in his memory.
As the crowd crossed the National Mall and turned east, I fell into conversation with a family carrying a small banner that read “KIDS: Keep Infants With Down Syndrome.” The mother told me she helped to start KIDS years ago to advocate for children with the genetic anomaly and bring their families together. She and her family, including her daughter with Down syndrome, were marching for the estimated 67% of babies prenatally diagnosed with Down syndrome who are aborted in the U.S.
Straight from prison to the march
Finally, walking by the Capitol as the march approached the Supreme Court, I happened to meet Joan Andrews Bell, the Catholic mother and grandmother sentenced to more than two years in jail under the FACE Act for blocking an abortion clinic entrance in 2020. Pardoned by the president the previous day and released only 12 hours before the march started, she didn’t carry a sign, but she did carry a black plastic rosary that she’d had with her prison. I didn’t ask, but I imagine that she was marching because the work isn’t done — and that she’ll march until she can’t march any more.
