SOLD -Pro-Birth – Original Oil Painting

Pro-Birth

Original Painting from the After the Election Collection
11×14 Oil on Canvas Panel
By Kellie Snider, Contemporary American Artist

“I think in many cases your morality is deeply lacking if all you want is a child born, but not a child fed, not a child educated, not a child housed? … That’s not pro-life. That’s pro-birth. We need a much broader conversation on what the morality of pro-life is.” – Sister Joan Chittister (2004)

At the heart of Pro-Birth is a chilling and profound contradiction: life and death entwined in a single, haunting image. This painting forces the viewer to confront the reality that the fight against abortion is often framed in a way that prioritizes birth over the ongoing life and well-being of both mother and child. Through stark imagery and bold symbolism, Pro-Birth delivers an unflinching commentary on the hypocrisy of a movement that demands childbirth while turning a blind eye to what happens afterward.

Beneath the earth, a skeleton lies in repose, its body partially curled, legs bent in a position evocative of someone who once carried life within them. Yet, where a living woman’s abdomen would be, there remains something untouched by decay: a near-term fetus, positioned for birth, suspended in a vibrant red and orange uterus. The juxtaposition is striking—the unborn child, so often centered in the debate over reproductive rights, remains intact, while the mother’s life has long since been extinguished.

Above the remains, emerging from the space where the woman’s torso once was, a tree grows. But this is no lush, flourishing symbol of renewal. Instead, the tree is twisted, its shape reminiscent of a bonsai—beautiful but unnaturally constrained, forced into a shape that defies its natural instincts to stretch and expand. The extreme contortion of its form suggests a struggle, a forced existence rather than organic growth. Like the broader themes of the painting, this tree is a metaphor: for the unnatural constraints placed upon women’s bodies, for the consequences of controlling reproduction without concern for survival, for the way systems of oppression twist morality into something unrecognizable.

The imagery in Pro-Birth is deliberate, pushing back against the narrative that the anti-abortion movement is solely about protecting life. It reminds the viewer that abortion rights are not just about birth control or convenience, as opponents so often claim, but about the very survival of the people involved. The skeleton beneath the ground is a stark reality—pregnancy is not without risk. Throughout history, and even now in modern times, countless women have died from complications related to childbirth, particularly in societies that restrict access to abortion care, maternal healthcare, and social support systems.

By placing the fetus in a glowing, womb-like structure, Pro-Birth acknowledges the reverence many hold for the unborn. But the painting also refuses to let that focus overshadow the fate of the mother. The fetus, ready to enter the world, is left with no one to birth it, no one to protect or nurture it. The question looms: What happens next? Will this child be supported, housed, educated, and cared for? Or will it be left, like so many others, in a system that claims to protect life but abandons it once the first breath is taken?

The use of color in Pro-Birth further enhances its message. The deep red and orange tones of the uterus contrast sharply with the cold, pale remains of the mother, emphasizing the divide between life and death. Red, the color of blood, vitality, and sacrifice, takes on multiple meanings here—representing the life that once was, the potential of the unborn, and the cost extracted from those forced into impossible choices. The background, subdued and earthy, reinforces the somber mood, grounding the piece in an almost funereal stillness.

Sister Joan Chittister’s quote, from which the painting takes its name, is a damning indictment of the selective morality that underpins much of the anti-abortion rhetoric. Her words call for a broader, more compassionate view—one that sees life as more than just birth and acknowledges the responsibility of society to care for those it insists must be born. The painting embodies this message, making it impossible to separate the act of childbirth from the context in which it occurs.

Pro-Birth does not offer easy answers. Instead, it demands that the viewer sit with discomfort, to reconcile the stark imagery with the policies and beliefs that continue to shape reproductive rights. It asks: What does it truly mean to be pro-life? Is it enough to insist that birth happen, without ensuring survival afterward? And at what cost is this rigid ideology upheld?

As part of the After the Election Collection, this painting serves as a powerful visual argument in an ongoing conversation. It is a reminder that the fight for reproductive rights is not just about choice—it is about autonomy, survival, and the recognition that true morality requires care beyond the delivery room.

With its thought-provoking imagery and urgent message, Pro-Birth is not just a painting—it is a call to examine the consequences of policies that place ideology over humanity. It stands as a testament to those who have been lost to this battle, and to those who continue to fight for a world in which life, in all its forms, is truly valued.