Easily Deceived

Wisconsin,  United States
  I was 24 years old.  I was still living with my parents and an emotional wreck after having just been dumped a couple weeks prior. So, in the aftermath, I decided that what I needed was another guy to make me feel better and to make me feel attractive. A work friend knew of a party and I went.  Very soon after arriving, a guy began paying a lot of attention to me. His words were not what a man would speak to a virtuous lady. After finding out that he was only 19, I tried to brush him off, thinking he couldn't possibly be serious. He indeed was serious, but only in one thing. I had no idea, and in fact wrongly thought it couldn't happen. That night I conceived a child.

The father and I never exchanged phone numbers. He never sought another "date" with me, nor did he ever attempt to even contact me again. A couple of weeks after the party, I saw some of his friends at the next table over at a bar.  They were laughing at me. I was humiliated. How did I become this girl? All I ever wanted was a boy to love me. Now I was acting like a slut.

I still remember taking the test and seeing the faint blue line appear. I felt ill and weak, my heart sunk, and tears ran down my face. I sank into a hot bath feeling an immense fear, feeling completely hopeless and sick. This must be a nightmare, right? I am going to wake up and this will all be a scary dream, right? But it was real. What had I done? What could I do?

A few days later I was at work behind the cash register. I looked down and saw a pen that someone had left with the inscription "#1 MOM". I began to tear up and whisper to myself, "I'm not ready to be a mom." I denied the truth; I already was a mom.

Looking back, I can see so clearly how I denied the reality of what was really going on. I can't remember in what order everything took place, but I remember actually feeling pregnant. It was not just in the tired, morning sickness way, but in an indescribable and wonderful way too, even before taking the test. I let the lies overrule that wonderful feeling. I had no doubt that someday I'd get married and have babies and feel this wonderful feeling of a baby growing inside of me again. But right now, all I could think about was how I wasn't ready, how I had no husband, no boyfriend, how all I had was a crummy job at a thrift store and no place of my own. I felt like I was making a responsible decision, not allowing my baby to grow up with what would probably be a white trash mom and no dad. Probably the worst lie that I allowed myself to believe was that I prayed about my situation and thought I'd come to a peaceful decision. The heart is wicked and deceitful and apart from God's Word, and a person (me) can easily deceive themselves.

I divulged my secret to quite a few friends and all but one were church-going Christians. None of them tried to stop me or urge me to keep the baby. I don't say this to disparage them but to encourage Christians to speak up, especially when a woman is coming to you in crisis. Had any one of them said anything to try to guide me from killing my baby, I might not be writing this right now.

To be quite honest, for years after the abortion, I still felt somewhat at peace with the decision. (That's how the devil works sometimes. You know as long as he's got you in his pocket he can allow you to enjoy your sins, I think.) Once in a while I'd look up the father on our State's circuit court site and I saw that he'd been in some serious trouble with the law, and I would feel justified.  I still suffered from low self-esteem and for several years didn't even have a single date, though other things in my life took shape. I got a decent job and a house, for example. But when it came to how I treated myself behind closed doors of that house, well, that was another story. Drinking, smoking, over-eating and eventually getting back to dating men who, for the most part, were shady characters—that just became normal.  Sin piled upon sin. I was spinning out of control. If I wasn't dating a bad guy, I was dumping a good one. In retrospect I can see how I was trying to punish myself for my sins, and I would actively seek out men who I felt were as sinful as me.

By the time I turned 35 years old, I was still without a husband or babies that I was sure I'd have by now. Self-help books and counseling proved ineffective. I was completely miserable. The load had become too great.

At 37 years old, God in His mercy brought me to His church where I'd heard the Gospel. I heard that I could be forgiven, that I was forgiven, that I am forgiven through Jesus Christ! He paid for the sins of the whole world, even the sin of me killing my own baby, on the cross. Months later I was baptized.

I am now 42 years old. I am still single and without babies. In the years that have passed since my baptism I have felt the most pain and grief of my life for my lost baby. I think it's because I am no longer in denial. I recognize so clearly now that that indeed was a human life, and that I committed murder. Gone are the lies of the world, the devil, and my own sinful nature. In another way, though, I am free in my forgiveness through Christ to help others facing a crisis pregnancy. I am free to love the children in my Sunday school class and celebrate the birth of babies. I am free to mourn my own baby, and I am free to hope that because of God's immeasurable mercy, I will one day see my baby. And I am free to say that abortion is wrong and implore others to choose life for their baby. This is why I’m Silent No More!

Priests for Life