What am I pushing, it’s just some cells?!

You’ve probably looked at my survey form and noticed that my abortion was in 1977 and that I did not check off a single topic. You might be thinking, that was a long time ago, so how could she remember anything…I need to tell you you’re wrong, for I do remember my abortion as if it took place just yesterday. I remember going and how packed the waiting room was with girls of all ages. I remember how scared I was and of not being sure of what was going to happen to me. Blinded by fear…When it was my turn to talk to someone I had two questions to ask, "Is this going to hurt?" and "What does it look like?" I was quickly told, "No, it does not hurt," and "What you’ve got going on inside you is just a clump of cells." I was 12, almost 13 weeks pregnant.

I wish I knew then what I do know now! That at 12/13 weeks my baby had a heartbeat, could feel pain, had fingers and toes, had brainwaves, and all its organs.

When it was my turn to have the abortion done, I do remember how very painful it was. I was told to "push, push hard." I said, "What am I pushing, it’s just some cells." I started crying and screaming, "Stop it, this is too painful." The abortionist stood up and began yelling at me, "Shut up and just push!" Afterwards, my baby was wrapped in plastic and thrown into a garbage can right in front of me.

Lies had been told to me! It did hurt and that clump of cells was a baby. The biggest lie comes afterwards, for I was told, "You’ll have a normal life after it’s done." Not true! I left the clinic that day with such a heaviness. I felt like such a low-life murderer. That I should be in prison. The fact is I did live as a prisoner to my sin. Held in bondage to shame.

Here are some of the feelings I have felt for many years, that no one prepared me for: Fear of God and what he must think of me, bitterness, anger, depression, crying fits, shame, self-hatred, hatred for all involved with the abortion, workaholic lifestyle, low self-image, marital problems, many difficult male relationships, promiscuity, emotional fits, and most of all—and deadliest—reoccurring flashbacks.

My entire 20's were spent going from one relationship to another. For a relationship to survive there has got to be love. Yet, how could I love another person when I could not even love myself. I would go through 2 very abusive marriages. Any time I would be abused, I would think, "I deserve this, I'm a murderer." I would become a very angry person, not allowing anyone to get close to me. I did not want anyone to know about my secret. Flashbacks would occur at any time always drawing me back to what I had done. Reminding me of the horrible thing I had done to my baby.

Nowadays, society tries to cover up the horror of abortion. Doctors, abortion clinics, planned parenthood and even our government try to make abortion sound normal, like an everyday occurrence, that it's no big deal.

Yet, the only sound I can hear is my heart crying out "Help me!" For what was once growing and changing inside my womb is now gone. A baby, whom after nine months should have been delivered as a living being, is now dead. It was not just a blob of cells with no purpose, it was to be a child with fingers and toes, a smile and a future.

No one can tell me different anymore. Abortion = death of a child.

After many painful years of being silent about my abortion, I have chosen to come forward and help expose a huge lie. A lie told to generations of women who have lost out on being moms to precious little ones. A few years ago, I went through a post-aborted woman's group. There I met many women who felt just like I did. I did receive help in dealing with my hidden grief, guilt, and many other emotions.

I thank God for His forgiveness. I pray I can be of help to other hurting women. Women, such as myself, who realize too late, that they will miss holding their babies, celebrate their child's birthdays and miss out on being called "Mommy!"

P.S. I have just recently become a mommy--in my 40's. A miracle baby. God is so good. He healed my emotions and hurts of my past and then allowed me to become and to be called "Mommy" by my baby boy Samuel.