My parents divorced when I was a baby, and I was immersed in what is now called the Culture of Death.
My mother was a professional sales person. Abandoned and alone, she became bitter and angry. She was ashamed of being a mother, and she would say that she had connections who would take care of unwanted pregnancies. Early in my teens, I blamed God for my circumstances, even though I knew I was wrong. When I was seventeen years old, my mother asked me if I could possibly be pregnant. I admitted it was possible.
She called a physician. He met us at his office on a Saturday and gave me a test, which he said was inconclusive. (This was in 1966). Then, he gave me a shot, "Just in case."
My body went through many changes that day. My tongue swelled up, I felt like my head would explode. My whole body felt awful. I cramped and cramped for hours. After some painful hours, I expelled a tiny human being, with a real immortal soul, who already possessed the capacity to love, and who was known and loved by God.
After that day, I went into denial. I felt sub-human. Suicidal tendencies became a daily battle. I believed deep down inside that goodness was impossible for me, that I had fallen over the edge and there was no return. I sought solace in relationships and suffered a first miscarriage at the age of 20. A deep despair became my way of life.
My mother died in 1970 when I was 21 years old. A year later I began to see my future husband. In 1972, we were married. Even though I had blamed God for my circumstances, deep in my heart was a seed of hope of finding mercy. I joined the Catholic Church hoping that this would help me to become a better person. It would be another 25 years before I truly believed.
In the first 5 years of our marriage I had 5 miscarriages. I had another miscarriage after the birth of our first child. After our third child was born, I suffered a severe post-partum psychosis. My mind was swamped by the culture of death mentality from my youth and childhood. I knew this was wrong, and I sought help. I was hospitalized for two weeks for
clinical depression.
All through this experience, the abortion of my past went unrecognized and denied. I spent years in counseling trying to make some sense out of my life. I thought I was bad for my children, although I love them so much. I was held together by the little bit I understood of our faith and by the advice of a few counselors, and by my love for our now four children.
Finally, in 1997, I began to learn, understand and surrender to the teachings of our Catholic Church and by grace I have never turned back. This time the struggle was marching forward because I had decided to keep a firm grip on the cross, and I was beginning to learn the truth in love. However, I was very, very sad. For three years I went to bed crying every night
and woke up crying. I cried throughout the days. It was late in the year 2000 when I realized the shot I had been given as a teen had caused an abortion. I attended two Rachel's Vineyard retreats in 2001.
My first child was taken from me through the violence of abortion. Theodore Joseph would never be held, would never be rocked to sleep, would never take his first steps, would never laugh, would never cry, would never be scolded, would never achieve the joy of overcoming hard obstacles, would never experience sorrow or happiness or rain or snow or sunshine. He would never learn to swim, would never learn to read or do algebra. He would never experience hopes and dreams in this life because he was not allowed to be born.
I deeply and sorrowfully regret my abortion, and I promise you this...I will be SILENT NO MORE.
God, who "dwells in unapproachable light," wants to communicate His own divine life to the men He freely created, in order to adopt them as His sons in his only-begotten Son. By revealing Himself, God wishes to make them capable of responding to Him, and of knowing Him and of loving Him far beyond their own natural capacity.#52, Catechism of the Catholic Church~Loving Mother of the Redeemer, assist your people who have fallen yet strive to rise again.
