From my point of view life is created way before it is homed in a physical structure. The soul is there before conception and enters the home at that point. You can talk all you want to about viability yada yada yada. Abortion is murder. Legalized murder. That doesn't make it right. Any deviation from that is simply shitty thinking. A woman has the right to choose life or murder.
Science follows God. Or an Architect. Or intelligent Design. From the macroscopic to the microscopic. For all things to have arisen to such a perfect degree from a random set of circumstances is small thinking. You're not giving yourself much of an opportunity to live life. IMO, DNA is owned by a superior intelligence. Screwing around with it at our primitive level invites catastrophe. I hear a little voice speaking in the back of my head. It sounds kinda like "GET OFF MY LAWN".
Cowboy Reincarnation by Wallace McRae
"What does Reincarnation mean?"
A cowpoke asked his friend.
His pal replied, "It happens when
Yer life has reached its end.
They comb yer hair, and warsh yer neck,
And clean yer fingernails,
And lay you in a padded box
Away from life’s travails."
"The box and you goes in a hole,
That’s been dug into the ground.
Reincarnation starts in when
Yore planted ‘neath a mound.
Them clods melt down, just like yer box,
And you who is inside.
And then yore just beginnin’ on
Yer transformation ride."
"In a while, the grass’ll grow
Upon yer rendered mound.
Till some day on yer moldered grave
A lonely flower is found.
And say a hoss should wander by
And graze upon this flower
That once wuz you, but now’s become
Yer vegetative bower."
"The posy that the hoss done ate
Up, with his other feed,
Makes bone, and fat, and muscle
Essential to the steed,
But some is left that he can’t use
And so it passes through,
And finally lays upon the ground
This thing, that once wuz you."
"Then say, by chance, I wanders by
And sees this upon the ground,
And I ponders, and I wonders at,
This object that I found.
I thinks of reincarnation,
Of life and death, and such,
And come away concludin’: ‘Slim,
You ain’t changed, all that much