Able to Forgive Myself

  Tonya
Florida,  United States
 
  I had an abortion in 2001. I was eighteen and heavily influenced by my mother. She took me to the clinic on 12th and Delaware in Fort Pierce, FL. We waited in the clinic together, but she knew I was very hesitant. We had to wait for a while for the abortionist to come. I don't think he even lived in the area. The nurse said he would be coming through the back door with a sheet over his head.
 When he finally arrived, I was given something to calm me down. After taking something that made me feel a little "out there", I realized that my Mother was nowhere in sight. I asked the nurse to get her but was told she left to get coffee and would be back when everything was over. She also told me that she was glad that I wasn't talking about God and that there were no "Jesus freaks" here today. I had also been told earlier that my child was "not a baby yet," and I was denied the right to see my ultrasound.
 When I was taken to the room to have the procedure, I remember thinking, this does not look like a place anyone should be having surgery. Now as a Respiratory Therapist, I know there was absolutely no emergency medical equipment. Just a bed with stir ups and a suction machine for extracting my baby.
There was one very nice young nurse there that didn't say much but held my hand during the death of my child. I remember thinking that I did not deserve such comfort. When I sat up, I saw bloody babies in a Tupperware bowl on the counter. Afterwards I was taken back to a little room with a recliner. I was shaking uncontrollably. My mother was not called until the shaking stopped, and I looked more presentable.
I had severe bleeding and a stabbing pain for weeks after. I notified the clinic of the symptoms, and they were not interested in hearing about it. They told me to go to the ER. The problem was, I did not know the exact procedure done to me and did not know how to tell the ER what I had done. I was ashamed.
My life took a terrible turn for the worst and so did the life of the baby’s father. I was depressed and did not want to live. My baby’s father developed schizophrenia and has been serving ten years in jail for kidnapping me from the college I was attending and getting his revenge for six hours while my family and police looked for me. This was NOT his normal behavior; he had never been a violent person. After the murder of his child, he literally lost his mind.
 I ran to God for forgiveness. I just recently accepted His forgiveness thirteen years later and that makes me able to forgive myself. If I can be forgiven for taking part in the murders of my children, there is nothing anyone could do to me that I would not forgive them for! This has set me free, and I will be silent NO MORE!

   
   
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