My name is Abigayle from Pittsburgh, PA.
Abortion was a word that I never thought about. Until I found myself staring down at the plus sign on my fifth pregnancy test. Five tests. Five positives. What was I going to do when I went to a Christian college, played basketball and wanted a degree to make my parents proud? This was not part of my plan. I talked to some friends and some trusted professors who encouraged me to go to Planned Parenthood where they mentioned that word. And then, all I thought about was abortion.
I remember the beveled glass windows on the clinic. I remember the doctor with his full white beard and I remember laying in the blue recliner in the recovery room, when the woman next to me counted the number of abortions she had and asked what was wrong with me.
You see, not only did my baby die in February 2000; a part of me died that day as well. And what promised to be the best thing for me turned out to be the worst.
I struggled for several years, drinking, destructive behaviors, a depression so deep I refused to get out of bed one Christmas. It was not until I called out to Jesus from my knees that He began to heal my life, leading me to Rachel’s Vineyard. He in turn called me to a counseling position, a team leader of Rachel’s Vineyard and numerous opportunities to speak out about my heinous experience that forever colors my life.
I have traded overwhelming guilt for extraordinary peace, deep shame for abundant confidence, extreme worthlessness for complete trust in God’s promises, loneliness and abandonment for acceptance into God’s family as His daughter, inconceivable hopelessness for an eternal hope, consuming hatred at the father of my baby, my parents, my friends, God and myself was replaced with an incredible ability to love. All of these gifts from trusting in a Lord who pulled me out of the mud and cleaned out the filth in my heart.
God has given me a second chance at life. The journey to healing will continue throughout my life. The message is that if you have had an abortion and are wounded, there is healing. There is forgiveness. And there is hope. And that is why I am silent no more.