When I was in my 20’s, I met my “forever man”. He already had a child, and I figured, as our relationship grew, in time he would want one of our own together. We dated solidly for two years, and I become pregnant. I was excited but scared. At this time, coming from a Catholic family, I knew it was frowned upon before marriage. I had a great job in real estate, and my boyfriend also worked a good job. I thought we were ready, but he did not. I remember when I anxiously sat in his truck in front of his home he shared with his brothers, As I began to tell him, he looked at me and said, “You’re not having it.” He walked out of the truck, slammed the door, and walked inside of his house. I sat in the truck crying and felt so lonely. As I tried to compose myself to walk through the front door to gather my things, he did not say one word to me, not even a goodbye. Some days passed by, and he kept making it very apparent that I needed to make the appointment to get it taken care of. He made sure I made the appointment.
The day of, I was dropped off and then picked up after the procedure. The procedure was sterile, non-relational, painful, and tragic. I left feeling so empty and ashamed. That day, my boyfriend let me stay at his house for a few hours to rest. Then, I had to go, and he broke up with me. I now felt worse than I ever could feel.
I fell into the darkest depression one could have, fueling my hurt and the deep hole with cocaine, alcohol, and marijuana. Eventually, I became violent and fought with any girl that would look at me the wrong way. I was sexually active and had a drive to hurt people, because I was hurting. I was dumb enough to go back to my ex and got pregnant again by him. This time he had told me, “You better take of this, because you and I aren’t even a thing.” So, I made the appointment and drove myself but asked him to help me pay for it. He declined, saying I should have taken better care of my birth control. Seriously? “Don’t have sex with me then,” was my argument back.
After this abortion, I was done for. I had zero feelings, did not care for anyone or anything. All I thought about was my two babies, who I selfishly had killed. My whole being was shook. I kept this to myself for years. I hurt every single day, and I would cry in pain of the loss of my two babies. I wondered if they were two boys or two girls or one of each. I didn’t give them a chance, all because someone else’s approval mattered to me at that time.
Years later, after I met my real FOREVER MAN, my husband, who is an amazing man of God, we got married. We were having our first baby, I did not tell him about my previous lifestyle and the abortions I had. We had our baby boy and went on to have another child two years later, this time a baby girl. When I was six months pregnant with her, the doctors had told us that she would have Down syndrome, and that we should think about aborting. I cried to myself and asked God, “Why?”
I still at this point did not tell my husband about my previous past. But we did not think twice about it; we were going to have our baby girl, no matter what was being said. We knew that we believed in a Mighty God. Before I met my husband, I wasn’t a believer in God, and I wasn’t into religion. It wasn’t until I met my husband and we began to attending church that learned that it’s not about religion—it’s about relationship.
As we had our two children, we started serving in our church at youth group. One day a young lady had all kind of things to say about pro-choice and abortion, and how she is so thankful to live in a country with this kind of “service”. I remember I began to pray and ask the Lord if this is the time to share, and I was so scared. But HE said, “Speak the Truth even if your voice shakes,” and that’s why I am silent no more!