When you get the chance, read "Freakonomics" (an absolutely brilliant book) and pay attention to the chapter that shows the link between Roe v Wade and the decline in the crime rate just prior to the turn of this century.
In summary, the numbers show that crime declined at a rate inversely proportional to the number of abortions granted women who did not wish to become mothers but who had, nonetheless, gotten pregnant. True enough; if those women had been raised better, perhaps they wouldn't have found themselves in that position, but then that just takes us back to who raised them and to wondering if they were really wanted by their mothers.
Yes, partial birth abortion is sickening. But it is not, IMHO, as sickening as the life of an unwanted child. And that is a failure of our society as much as it is a failure of the mothers. All those people with "right to life" bumper stickers should be legally required to show proof of adoption before they can put that on their cars.
That "life", the thing they call a right, is horrible.... Period. Anyone who thinks otherwise is wearing rose-colored contact lenses. If there were enough love and caring to go around, I would feel otherwise, but the bald truth is that even more than a deficit of food, shelter, clothing, we have a much larger deficit of love, kindness, and caring. And Harlow's monkeys (as well as many studies on "failure to thrive") have shown that love is just as important as food to the survival of a human. With food, and not love, you might have a thing that breaths, walks, even talks, but it isn't really human.
What is more horrible: A bloody mass of tissue in a bucket, or a thing that steals, kills, consumes and can produce more creatures just like itself? Welfare gave us a prison population of 1 in 100 citizens here in the USA. No where else in the world has there been a welfare system that paid women to have children they didn't really want, and no where else in the world do every 99 people pay to incarcerate the 100th.
Life should be filled with love, joy, and happiness. If it isn't, then it isn't the thing I want to call life. Were it my choice, I would rather be a bucket of bloody parts.