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With me it was a rerun of the abortion every day

I was taken into a separate room where the $150 in cash was taken from me. A check could not be accepted as it would be traceable and thereby make the confidentiality null and void. Then into a third room. It was pelvic exam time. "Twelve weeks", the doctor said. Prior to that I had no idea of fetal age or of when I was due. Nothing! So just imagine how those words still haunt me. I'll go to my grave knowing only that about my baby. Ah, but then we will meet again in the hereafter.

Room number four. At this point, it dawned on me that we were being herded like cattle from one pen to another. Two woman in particular I remember there. One was possibly mid 40's. She already had 6 kids she said. If her husband knew about this, he'd kill her but she felt she couldn't handle another. The other girl, dressed like a street hooker, bragged that this was her 4th abortion. I tried to keep my eyes from bugging out. There was a sense of bonding with one another out of desperation more than anything else. We all wanted to believe that what we were doing was the right thing.

Room number four was the holding pen for those awaiting the required counseling. Counseling? All I remember was her asking me why I needed this abortion. I gave her my reasons thinking, "Oh no, she's going to try to talk me out of it", when to my surprise, she did nothing of the kind. She did proceed to tell me in detail about the procedure but the only thing I recall was the long needle she said would numb my cervix and the length of the abortion which would be approximately 5 minutes. She advised me as to what I could expect afterward and if I experienced any persistent fever or profuse bleeding that I was to call the clinic. Next, she gave me the contraceptive lesson. My mind was made up on the IUD, but thank God, I never did get one.

I can see myself in a hospital gown on a table with my feet in stirrups. I was clutching some woman's hand very tightly and talking a mile a minute to her so that I could take my mind off the pain. It was gut-wrenching pain. When it was over, the woman whose hand I had gripped said, "What a crackerjack patient. I wish they could all be like you!"

R-E-L-I-E-F! I wasn’t pregnant anymore. I went into the rest room and had a horrible diarrhea-type bowel movement. I put on my pad and got dressed. In the recovery room, all the aborted woman were seated for a brief time and then were allowed to go. Juices and soft drinks were available.

Feeling very queasy I figured a pop would settle my stomach. As I got up to get the drink I suddenly felt as if I were going to black out. A couple of so-called nurses put me in a recliner. Next I remember being taken back into another tiny operating room similar to the one I'd been in for the abortion. Some unfamiliar man, supposedly a doctor, examined me to see, I guess, whether or not the entire contents of my womb had been evacuated.

This time I cried as I clutched a strange woman's hand. I remember saying repeatedly, "Is it over yet? Is he done yet?" It hurt so badly, worse than the initial abortion. When finished with his exam which turned up nothing unusual, the unfeeling doctor said something like, "She's fine, get her out of here" He looked extremely annoyed.

I was given Darvon to ease the pain. As I laid back in the recliner, the medication began to take effect. The blanket they draped over me helped to ease the chills that I was experiencing too. Sleep enveloped me for a time. Imagine how worried my girl friend had been out in the waiting room all this time. It was approximately 2 p.m. when we left the clinic.

The days immediately following were complication-free. I suffered no physical side effects. But it wasn't long before I began to realize that I had played God. I had changed the whole course of my life. That I had done it when it should've been no one else but God. It was a start.

Reportedly aborted women become self-destructive. They drink, do drugs, become suicidal, etc. With me it was a rerun of the abortion every day. I would also fixate on what age my baby would be now, what color eyes, what color hair, what sex - just a million unanswered questions. To this day I suffer from low self -esteem attributed to the abortion.

I surrendered my life to Jesus Christ in 1983, the year before I was married. During our engagement, I shared with my fiancé about the sin which I committed. He was so sure that he could never marry a woman who had had an abortion. He had been affected by my abortion in that, as he put it, "The first child in your womb is not going to be mine." I had not thought of it in that way before. I could feel his hurt. It took the better part of two years after my conversion before I could actually bring myself to accept God's forgiveness for what I had done. Having done that, I joined the local pro-life organization where I have been an active participant since that time. Like so many aborted women I say, "If only I'd known then what I know now."

In 1986 I suffered a miscarriage. This being my first pregnancy after the abortion, imagine my horror that perhaps I couldn't have children now. I did give birth, though, two times. Praise the Lord! My living daughter and son will never know their older sibling. My brothers will never know what joy their long-departed niece/nephew could've imparted to them.

I will always feel a certain ache inside because of what I did. The tears can still come easily. God has blessed me with two beautiful children. I can bring them up to revere life. I can help to make a difference in this war with my active participation. And in so doing, my aborted child will not have died in vain.

Thank you for allowing me the vehicle through which to get all this down on paper. It has been great therapy.

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