They Made it Sound So Simple...
I loved my child from the moment the
nurse told me I was pregnant -- So much so that I feared the penicillin I had
taken for strep throat might have hurt him. The nurse reassured me and told me
When I arrived home I told
my live-in boyfriend that we were going to have a baby. I was happy and
expected that he would be too. Instead, he began to speak of the family that
we would have someday, and how it was important to plan and prepare
financially for children. He then reminded me of our bills and told me the
timing was not right for a child. He asked me to consider having an
Disappointment struck me but
it paled when compared to the love that we had for each other. His comments
sounded so reasonable and rational. His case was stated well. I knew I had
to at least consider abortion for the sake of our relationship. Anyway, what
could be the harm in just "looking into" the possibility of having an
abortion? My intent was to make a sound, logical decision about my
My boss, whom I respected
greatly, chronicled her two abortion experiences and referred to her husband
as "the sucker who got her into that mess". She told me how to complete the
insurance forms to guarantee reimbursement.
My boyfriend's mother told
me whatever I chose to do was fine with her. So did my friends.
Well, I knew I had to get
the facts. Just what was abortion ... Really? I telephoned a clinic
counselor for the straight scoop. She spoke so nonchalantly, no problem, I
didn't really have a baby ... Just a piece of tissue, and then she recited
the simple procedure for expelling the cells. That couldn't be.
I called another clinic. The counselor there told me the same thing. No
baby, just a piece of tissue. I went on to speak to seven counselors.
Sometimes I think I spoke to so many because I just wanted one person to
confirm what I believed, that I had a baby in my womb.
All the "pregnancy experts"
(clinic "counselors") assured me I did not.
I had envisioned my
legislators gathered around a large table discussing abortion. This
embodiment of intelligence had decided abortion was legitimate. The evidence
was weighty, it must not be a baby or they wouldn't embrace the abortion
It would not have been
logical to continue my pregnancy based on a whimsical-sounding belief.
Ostensibly my decision was
prudent. I was only nineteen, the pregnancy wasn't planned, there were bills
to pay, it wasn't a good time to start a family, it would preempt my career
and I probably wasn't ready for motherhood. It had all the dressings of
Except that something tugged
at my heart. There was still a smidgen of conflict. The only way I knew to
justify the decision within myself was to make sure my "baby" wouldn't have
been a "good one" anyway. So I began to drink ... enough to dehumanize my
Mike set next to me in the
nicely decorated abortion facility. I did just fine until clinic personnel
us. My security blanket
was gone and I began to cry.
From there I was treated
like a piece or meat during a pelvic examination, and I felt like it. I was
lead by the hand to the room for a blood test after three attempts to follow
directions proved futile.
The young man taking my
blood told great jokes. He had to. All thirty plus girls were so somber as
they awaited their abortions.
Interestingly, I was more
afraid to take a blood test, because I had never taken one, than I was of
the abortion procedure. It was made to sound so simple.
It was my turn. I was
escorted into the large room equipped with dozens of stainless steel tables
I took the last table.
As I leaned backward and placed my feet in the stirrups, the abortionist peered
between my legs, smiled, and told me everything would be all right. Everything
would not be all right -- that moment was the beginning of an eight year
emotional roller coaster ride.
When I awoke, there was just
another girl and me left.
I sat on a bench until a worker took me
to get dressed. From behind the curtain I could hear two women chatting. They
were talking about a girl and how there were "two". They didn't realize they
were talking about me. I couldn't understand why they would be talking about
two. Two pieces of tissue?
In a moment of horror, I
thought, what if I really did have a baby, what if I had two. I couldn't
bear wrestling with these thoughts, so I rejected them.
As I sat in my boyfriend's
van, I looked at the floorboard. I was relieved. "It" wouldn't have been any
good anyway. The trauma of the decision was over. So I thought.
When I got home, my dear
friend was waiting for me. I smiled. She thought I was fine. But my sense of
loss was more than I could bear. In my eyes, the emptiness and hurt couldn't
be explained because I had been told repeatedly how simple the procedure was
and how much better I'd feel. There was nowhere that I knew of to vent my
feelings so I internalized them.
During the next year, I kept
trying and thinking I was pregnant. I wanted to replace my children. I
married my boyfriend on the would-be-due date of my twins. The marriage
lasted eight months.
For years I became
preoccupied with thoughts of my own impending death during the
I had to have a hysterectomy
four years after my abortion. Eleven months later, my ovaries and tubes were
removed. I was menopausal at twenty four years old.
I set a great example for my
friends. One had two abortions, she cried for a year every time she saw a
blonde, blue eyed boy. Another had three abortions and still mourns.
It was ten years following
the abortion before I found support through a post abortion recovery
program. For the first time, I walked completely through my abortion
experience; the inner conflicts surfaced and I was able to grieve, mourn and
receive forgiveness from my precious Lord. I was able to forgive myself.
Will I forget? Never, but that is what enables me to share and be of the
same heart with others in distress.
Even at this writing, eleven
years later, I am teary eyed, because so many Americans have been
unwittingly duped into believing abortion serves women. It does not. It
exploits us and serves to promote the decay of our physical, emotional and
No, as a people cannot
continue to pretend Post Abortion Syndrome does not exist. To do so is cruel
and inhumane. It only heightens the anxiety and feelings of betrayal
experienced by thousands.