I am 35 years old, never married. Seventeen years ago I became pregnant by one of two men. I didn’t tell them of the pregnancy as I was not in close contact with either one. My promiscuity and mental instability had gotten me into a mess. Living with my parents, we have always been a pro-life Catholic family. Mom accepted my pregnancy and said we would raise the baby.
I had an emotional breakdown at approximately 3 months gestation. I was hospitalized and put on heavy medication. I didn’t seem to be improving.
The psychiatrist was helpful to my health. He wanted to increase my medication in order that I might get well. Because I was pregnant, he was afraid to increase my dosage, because it might affect my unborn baby. He tried to convince my family that abortion was the best solution. I wouldn’t listen.
Finally, at 4-5 months along, I gave in. In pleading moments I changed my mind. I had great love and respect for my psychiatrist who by that time had befriended my family.
I was admitted to the army hospital, which did abortions at that time. The I.V. was started. A needle was placed on my abdomen and the saline poison began. About ½ hr. later I asked the nurse if it was too late to change my mind. She said it was too late. Later I began cramping and was moved to a small room. I remember lying on a cold metal table. My sister and mother came in a few times, but mostly I was alone. The cramping was beginning to hurt. I felt the need to have a bowel movement. The nurse brought me a basin. I pooped. I looked and screamed "It’s my baby!" In the basin was a red tiny perfectly formed baby. The nurse quickly whisked the baby away from me. I asked her what it was. She said it was a boy.
Next I was moved into a room. The doctor then checked my uterus. Not many words were spoken.
I had mixed emotions directly after. Relieved on one hand, numb on another hand, guilty and sad too. My 19th year, I felt dead inside. Soon after the abortion I was released from the hospital. I felt like a zombie and all the medication they had me on. Mom weaned me.
I began to see a psychiatrist on a weekly basis. He was very kind and rather bland; he never mentioned the abortion.
The family never talked about my abortion. There was sadness present. My promiscuity continued. I let men use my body, because I didn’t know how to say "no". Down deep I needed to be loved, and I wanted a boyfriend.
I finally went to confession. [Years later,] I got baptized in the Holy Spirit. A friend prayed with me in reading of memories. I began opening to Charismatic Prayer meetings, and also prayed in smaller groups to praise the Lord, and to be healed.
A year and a half ago I began to volunteer once a week in a pregnancy problem center. I counsel women considering abortions and offer comfort to post-abortion women.
I called my abortionist a year ago to tell him how the abortion has caused me more pain than anything experienced in my life. He is still performing abortions, and says that I’m the 1st person whose ever complained. I just told him that I’ll be praying for him, and that I forgave him.
It brought me closer to God. Everyone I’ve ever trusted or loved let me down. No one tried to talk me out of the abortion. But I feel that God was there in the center of my pain. He reached out to me to offer me love and compassion and forgiveness.
My life will never be the same. Andy is my only child. I’ve never married. Maybe someday I will -- who knows? I’m a nurse by profession and my last job was in labor and delivery. It’s beautiful to experience the joy of a baby being born.
Today I’m a school nurse with handicapped children. These children look different on the outside, but their eyes share the light of Christ.
Being a victim of abortion has taught me never to be silent when speaking out the truth.
Printed with permission from Priests for Life.
