A True Abortion Story

Sunday marked the 39th anniversary of Roe versus Wade, the Supreme Court decision that legalized abortion. If you’re one of my eight regular readers, you know that I am adamantly against abortion. I’m also pro-choice (the decision happens at the sex part, not the pregnancy part), pro-birth control, and pro-women.

My heart breaks for women that have had an abortion, and now have to carry around the weight of what they’ve done their entire lives. I wish I could take that pain away. Since my M.O. when I can’t think of something eloquent and perfect to say is to shove scripture at you (God always says it better than me anyway), I’ll just tell you what Psalm 103:12 says:

As far as the east is from the west, 
 so far does he remove our transgressions from us.

God loves you. And I love you too. And I have the deepest gratitude for the ladies that have come forward and shared their stories about how ending their pregnancies brought them anything but peace and freedom.

A good friend of mine, who has asked to remain anonymous, wrote the following. She is one of the loveliest women I know; strong, smart, capable, compassionate, a wonderfully devoted wife and mother … the list could go on. I cannot imagine her as this scared girl with how I know her today.

I hope that her story can change one mind about carrying to term. I hope that it brings hope to another post-abortive mama, that she is not alone in her sorrow. I hope that it brings perspective to anyone that condemns the mother instead of the culture in this pro-abortion era we’re living in.

Thank you for writing this, my beautiful friend.

 

I was 23.  I’d just gotten out of my first serious relationship, which lasted 5 years and was very physically abusive by the end.  Anyone who’s been through that will understand how I was left in a very emotionally weak and confused state.

I started a relationship way too fast with a really great guy who had baggage of his own.  I was enjoying my freedom and finally sowing my wild oats.  We were both responsible employees who worked really hard at our jobs, and we were playing hard on nights and weekends.  Too hard.  Less than 3 months into the relationship I was pregnant.

Maybe it’s a coping mechanism.  Maybe I really have changed.  Maybe it’s both.  I can’t wrap my brain around who I was and what I did then.  Not because it was so evil, but because it was so weak.  Almost immediately, and without really considering any other choices, my boyfriend and I decided I would have an abortion.

The reasons seemed simple and valid on the surface, but I now see they were complicated and based in distortion.  The reasons I listed to the few people I told (who happened to all be people I knew would tell me I was doing the right thing) were that I was worried the baby was already messed up from the partying I was doing before I knew I was pregnant (if I’d stopped then the baby would have been fine) and that I couldn’t take the time off work.  I didn’t know how I would support the child.

I didn’t want to hurt my mom more than I already had.  That turns my stomach now, and it’s why I remain silent.  Not because she would judge me, but because she would love and forgive me, grieve for her lost grandchild and be mortified at the notion I did this for her.  No, this secret will at least go to her grave.

Nevertheless, the reason I had an abortion has nothing to do with my uterus, my blood-alcohol level, my bank balance, my age or my boyfriend’s character.  The reason I had an abortion is that I didn’t feel I was worthy or capable of motherhood.

I saw myself as trash, so I trashed my baby.

The truth is it would have been hard, but we would have been ok.  I wouldn’t have lost my job, my family would have rallied around me and my first child would be where she belongs… with me.  And if I didn’t have that support system she could at least be with a family worthy of her and I wouldn’t be haunted by the ghost within me.  I would be MORE free, and I would be MORE empowered had I chosen life.   I know this.

But that’s not what happened.  What happened was one cold, dark January morning I prayed for the first time in a long time.  I asked God to intervene if this wasn’t His will (what an absurd statement).  Then I heard the familiar clunk of my boyfriend’s boots coming up the stairs to my apartment, followed by his knock.  Those sounds usually brought a smile to my face, but they never would again.

We had to travel to another town.  When we stopped for gas halfway his truck died.  He had jumper cables, but the person we asked to help flat out refused .  No one does that.  No one does that unless you prayed for sign from God to not have an abortion.

They really are mills.  There was a security guard at the front door where we signed in and showed id.  It must have been a very important tooth I was having pulled.  Then the regular clipboard paperwork.  The waiting room was packed.  Only one other woman had a male accompanying her.  After a while I was called back for a blood draw, then sent back to the waiting room until the next thing and the next thing.  I can’t remember the whole pre-op process, but mark my words — we were cattle.

I eventually got the “counseling” I had promised.  I was handed pill after pill interrupted by a stack of waivers to sign.  The administrator asked if I was sure I wanted to do this.  I said, “I guess.”

I was sent to the waiting room one more time until the drugs kicked in.  You’ll forgive me and probably be relieved I’m not going to go into too much detail here.  A man I refuse to refer to as a doctor proceeded to suck my child and a piece of my soul out of my body with the shop-vac from Hell, then left.  A nurse stayed.  I think they gave me some more drugs and about a half hour later we were ushered out the back door.

I went home and watched Stella Got Her Groove Back.  The next morning I woke up and returned to my life as if nothing had happened just like the pretty pamphlet said I would.

It worked for a while, but a couple of years later I just started unraveling.  Reality hit me.  What I’d done.  What I’d lost.  What was permanent.  I was drinking way too much, and I sabotaged my relationship.  At this point I had come to the realization that I had indeed killed my own child and would have to live with it for eternity.

Those who “supported” my choice were scarce and uninterested in what I was going through now.  No baby, no loss.  However, if I’d miscarried at the same stage of pregnancy the loss would have been valid.  This is where post-abortion syndrome is born.

A post-abortive woman has the burden or karma of having to grieve for their child, but they often do it alone.  On top of that they have to process their hand in it.  These feelings are often attributed to the guilt the pro-life movement puts on post-abortive women, but when this started I was pro-choice and remained so for a long time.  This is a real loss.  If you care about women, if you trust women as George Tiller claimed to you won’t minimize it.

The last shreds of denial and escape were aborted when I married my husband and had my first child.  Thank God something compelled me to share my experience with him early in our relationship.  There are so many women carrying this around and NO ONE in their life knows.  He educated himself on what I was going through and is still loving me through it today.

I finally found an online message board where I practically lived for over a year.  I went through the grieving process just as if I’d lost one of my living children today.  I will never go to a place that dark again, and yes, I considered suicide.  I’ve now healed and forgiven myself as much as I ever will.  I wish I could go back, but I can’t.  There’s no place to go but forward, so I’ve done my best.  I’m also loathe to give that darkness one more iota of time or energy.

The pro-life community provided hope and love and dried my tears, while the pro-choice community told me I was imagining things.  Thanks for nothing, sisters.

Nowadays, I’m not so much concerned with winning the argument over when life begins and whether abortion should be legal or not, as I am that women are making serious, permanent decisions without knowing what they’re in for, be it physically, emotionally and/or spiritually.

Just a heads up for them.  I’d give anything to go back and get one for myself.

Defend Women. Defend Life.

When the gut-wrenching story broke of the Philadelphia abortionist that routinely delivered live, viable babies before jamming scissors into their brains to kill them, I had to write about it.

The part of the story that struck me so deeply was the desperation that those women felt walking into that clinic. I don’t believe that anyone wants an abortion; but that women are pressured by family, friends, and society (mostly well-meaning, I’m sure) to believe that the procedure is no big deal.

How far below rock bottom does a woman have to be to walk into a filthy ‘clinic’ and have the kicking, squirming life sucked out of her? That woman needs love and support, not the legal right to an abortion. In the article I wrote, I mentioned some ways to actually help pregnant women, such as donating money to cover prenatal care for those that can’t afford it, bringing meals to single moms trying to make it, or volunteering with a pregnancy care center or adoption agency.

For that I got called a woman-hater.

It turns out that unless one believes that a mother-to-be has the right to end the life of her unborn child, that person hates women. I vehemently dispute that claim. I do like women. I like men, too for the record. I like all people no matter how big or small, no matter their age, and no matter where they live: In a mansion, on the street, or in a uterus.

I believe that God created humans (and other stuff … like everything), and even though you’re not going to get along with everyone, life is worthy of respect.

Read the rest at Pundit League

Abortion Doctor Kills 7 Newborn Babies & a Mom

Warning: The following content contains graphic language about dead babies. It will probably make you cry. Or throw up. Or both.

An abortionist in West Philadelphia has been arrested and charged with eight counts of murder – seven of them being babies born alive after a botched, illegal late-term abortion, and one being a woman who died of an overdose of anesthesia.

Dr. Kermit Gosnell, 69, made millions of dollars over 30 years, performing as many illegal, late-term abortions as he could, prosecutors said. State regulators ignored complaints about him and failed to visit or inspect his clinic since 1993, but no charges were warranted against them, District Attorney Seth Williams said.

Gosnell “induced labor, forced the live birth of viable babies in the sixth, seventh, eighth month of pregnancy and then killed those babies by cutting into the back of the neck with scissors and severing their spinal cord,” Williams said.

Williams said patients were subjected to squalid and barbaric conditions at Gosnell’s Women’s Medical Society.

Gosnell is only being charged with seven counts of infanticide because those seven fetuses had the audacity to slip completely from their mother’s body before the doctor could scramble their brains with scissors and kill them. A baby is considered ‘unborn’ if it’s head still remains within the birth canal, so the thousands of children dead by Gosnell’s hands can’t be counted as murders.

Read the rest at The Stir

Abortion Violates Civil Rights of Unborn

The right to do what you want with your own body.

This is the call of the pro-abortion crowd. Let the woman choose what to do with her body! It’s her right!

I’d like to make the case that by using the “my body, my choice” line, you’ve just given men the right to rape.

Just follow my logic, ok?

We all have rights. God given rights. In America, we have a government that protects those rights. In protecting each individual’s personal rights, sometimes there are restrictions imposed. For example, I have the right to own property, but not the right to steal it from someone else, because that infringes on that person’s right to the property which they have earned or been given.

Basically, any time you have two individuals, you have to navigate carefully where rights are concerned, and one person’s rights do not supersede another person’s rights.

That’s why it’s not cool to rape, murder, steal, plunder, etc.

There are more people involved than just a woman when an abortion takes place. Mother, father, and baby are all affected, and the choice of the mother infringes upon the father’s right to not have his kid’s life ended prematurely, and of course the baby’s most elemental right, the right to life is taken away.

The rights of the father and the child are completely obliterated by a woman’s right to “choose”. Why does a woman’s right in this arena supersede the rights of two other individuals?

In what other areas does a person have more freedom of choice than another person? Rape? When a man rapes a woman, he takes away her right to choose what to do with her own body. Why is her right to not be raped not sacrificed at his right to sexual satisfaction?

Why is a child’s right to live not more important than the mother’s desire to not be pregnant?

It seems that everyone has rights except for the more helpless population of all: The unborn.