Watch a video of her testimony
My abortion was one of choice. There was no trickery, no misguided judgment, or coercion. It was me, a college educated 25-year old woman, about to begin graduate school, with a boyfriend of over a year who loved me and supported me in everything. My thoughts at the time were so selfish – “I can’t do this right now,” “This is not the way I wanted to have a baby,” “Do I even want to be with this man forever?” Looking back I realize those are things I should have considered before conception, not after.
I researched my “choices” but had reservations about abortion from a physical standpoint. I was wary of a process which might ruin my chances to have a child when I was finally ready. But when I stumbled upon medical abortion, suddenly the option seemed accessible to me. It was inexpensive and noninvasive. And, I assured myself, it was more humane for the baby. Just two pills and suddenly my period would return, and life could go back to normal. It never did.
I sat in the clinic that morning waiting for someone to stop me, waiting for a sign from God to tell me I was doing the wrong thing. I tried to convey my uncertainty to the staff, but it was like everyone was on autopilot. The process was so easy, so simple, that it hardly conveyed the gravity of the truth. They watched me take the first pill in the clinic and handed me the next one (to be taken at home) with a warning – you MUST take the second pill. Don’t try to stop the process now in an effort to save the baby. The first pill will have done severe damage, trying to salvage any life after that would be futile.
But popping that second pill in the eerie silence of our warm home wasn’t as easy as it had been in the sterile clinic. I literally fell to the floor in tears as I cooked dinner that night in immediate regret of my action, screaming out that I had killed our baby. My boyfriend and I sat in sad silence together that evening. We prayed that God would forgive us for our choice, lead the soul of our child gently back to heaven, and one day grant us life again when we were ready to take it on. The next few days I sat in the shower, watching life stream down the drain. But it was the next few years that really brought the hurt of our decision to full fruition.
The graduate degree I wanted to pursue instead of motherhood was never finished. Creation wasn’t just halted in my womb, my writing suffered as well. The boyfriend I wasn’t sure about became my husband. Our decision years earlier haunted our relationship. Neither of us ever forgot our child, and instead became vividly aware that it wasn’t just some “problem” that a procedure took away. Certain my lingering heartache wasn’t unique, I went back to researching and found Project Rachel.
The beautiful healing that took place in Rachel’s Vineyard during the weekend retreat we attended together was unimaginable. It was so simple, so easy to return to God’s grace, I could hardly believe myself deserving of it. But one of the things I was certain about when we left Rachel’s Vineyard was that our child’s death could not be in vain. Our experience, our heartache could not just go down in the history books silently, a secret hidden away never to be shared. The truth deserves more than that. Life deserves more than that. Our children deserve more than that – that’s why we are Silent No More.