Mothers Whose Babies Were Killed by Abortion
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I find solace in a merciful God
I grew up in an abusive home. My father left when I was two and never looked back. My mother was cold and mean and didn't hesitate to beat me, degrade me, belittle me, or tell me how much she hated me.
I was never told I was loved. I was never told I was beautiful or smart or worth anything. I'd always heard the opposite. So, when I was 15, I'd met a man who was (old enough to be my father) kind to me. I hung out with him a few times outside and (once) in his apartment, and that one time he'd managed to get me to sleep with him. I was a virgin, but my self-esteem was low and someone was giving me attention, so I just went with the flow. I didn't say no at any point during this encounter, but the whole time I felt awful. I cried when I left his home. I never saw him again.
I found out I was pregnant a few weeks later. Telling my mother was almost impossible. I remember my heart racing so intensely, I wanted to vomit. She was just going to abuse me. Sure enough, when I told her, she made jokes about me. Told me I was a dumb prostitute who was not smart enough to get paid for my services. Then she laughed. I never, ever, felt so alone. I just wished I'd die and get it all over with. I remember sitting in my room, alone... broken and pregnant.
She took me to planned parenthood. I don't think they even acknowledged me. My mother set everything up. I met with the nurse who told me not to worry, that women did this all the time and that I was lucky I got in just before it turned into a baby. I remember going into the room, getting changed and crying. I sat in that little white room for what felt like forever I never felt so empty and alone. My heart was racing and I felt sick. The doctor came in and told me to lay back. I was SO embarrassed. I was 15! I'd only had sex once, and here was a man I didn't know, in between my thighs. He didn't even introduce himself. He talked to the Medical Assistant the whole time. I remember the cramping I felt as the machine made noise. Tears rolled out of my eyes and down the side of my cheeks. My MA was sweet, she stood by my head, held my hand, and even wiped my tears. I didn't look at her though. I was too ashamed. It was over in about two minutes. I got up and they had me sit in another room full of women. Women who looked lost. Some were crying. Some were sleeping. I just kept looking at the clock...
I've always written poetry. I used it as an outlet, I suppose, to escape the abuse. Luckily, I'd never tried drugs, never drank, and stayed out of trouble. Writing was my world. I remember writing letter, after letter, after letter to my baby. Telling him/her that I was SO, so, sorry and begging for that sweet baby to forgive me. As I write this, I still ask for his/her forgiveness. I know God loves me. I know He forgives me. I know I need to forgive myself, but I don't know how. I can only pray, that when I go, God gives me the opportunity to personally, face to face, apologize with all my soul to that precious baby that I betrayed.
Eighteen years ago and I'm still broken. While I always felt so awful inside about abortion, I wasn't always 100% profile. I used to believe that it was a woman’s choice to make that decision. It's just a "lump of cells" in the beginning, right? I decided to spend some time learning the truth about abortion and while education is KEY, it broke my heart even more. The TRUTH hurt. It hurt a LOT. I now am 100% pro-life.
I met someone at 18, we got married and at 21 we got divorced. We did not have any children. I then met my current husband (married 12 years now) and we've been blessed with two boys, but I never stop thinking about my sweet baby that is up there with the Lord.
I've never told anyone this story, and while it scares me to do so, it's time for me to tell the truth. I can no longer carry this weight around, especially because a beautiful, lost woman could be reading this and maybe I'll help change her mind. I continue to pray for healing. I continue to pray for forgiveness. I find solace in a merciful God. Jesus can and will save me. I continue to pray that one day I can forgive myself fully and that's why I'm silent no more.
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