Once upon a time a man and a woman fell in love and got married. They had a daughter whom they loved, the daughter was the twinkle in her daddy's eye. Years went by and this little girl was growing up in a very secure, white picket fence kind of home. One day, as it always seems to go, whammo, things changed. This girl was not so little anymore and the family that she felt all so secure in was crumbling around her. Dad was out of the picture like that and Mom had new friends around, lots and lots of new people, to this little girl, it all happened the very same moment. The Dad was humiliated and depressed and so he snuck away quietly, not wanting to see or talk to his daughter. When she would call and write, it often went unanswered and so the girl soon learned what people were already telling her mother, "Be strong, you don't need a man". This little girl grew up to be quite a wild teen, doing just about anything she wasn't supposed to, including loose her virginity in middle school. After years of throwing caution to the wind, the girl, age 18 by this time, met a boy that would change everything. This boy was daring, lived on the edge, he was nothing short of dangerous. Family of this girl threatened to come get the girl, "you shouldn't be living with him" they said, "he'll hurt you" they said. All this time, the girl thought, this boy loved her, why else would he be so jealous and overprotective? When the girl learned she was pregnant, she panicked. Playing house wasn't so pretend, she quickly came to a realization that it wasn't just her left she was playing with anymore. She fled the town she lived w/ this boy to never see him again. She landed softly in the arms of family, the same family who had told her mother to be strong, a man wasn't needed. The girl, with cheerleaders all around telling her it was ok, had an abortion. And that would be the first of two children she would decide to never meet, nor would anyone else on Earth.
What I learned later, was that the family lied, they all lied. Standing on my own two feet, being independent and strong is entering a wide gate, many pass through and fall on their faces as I did. The world says it’s good, one more thing completely backwards to God and His ways. They meant well, my family and I have to still tell myself that they meant well on occasion. I was treated like I was the victim, what a ridiculous idea but it’s exactly how it was. What I needed was for someone to speak truth to me, for a father to not turn his back on his responsibilities and leave his family in complete shambles, for someone, anyone, to tell me I had a father who would provide if I just trusted Him.
And then, when I least expected it, I met Him, the love of my life. John 3:16 tells me that God did so love the world so much that he sacrificed his one and only son for me, yes, even me. I read the words of God, Him coming to Earth as a human, a baby even, to conquer sin in his thirties and to die on a cross for me. This is wildest story I've ever read and to my surprise, I believe it, every single bit of it. Who would ever believe that the God who created the universe would come as an infant to save the world? I couldn’t have thought this up on the highest of highs and it’s true, it’s all completely true.
The lies Planned Parenthood told me years and years ago are the same lies they tell today. When I think about little faces I never met, giggles I'll never hear, it's all about me and what I missed. When I think about experiences I stole from them, I realize, even without my beliefs that I don't have the right to take that from someone else. I just don't. Women's rights? What if they were both women? I won't begin to discuss what should happen if a mother could die in childbirth and the hundreds of scenario's where abortion comes up. For me, I was a coward, a complete coward who didn't know truth nor did I make any attempt to seek it out. I believed the garbage that was being told to me because it felt good, a little guilt and shame went away with the feeling that I was the victim.
I was terrified the first time I went, had no clue about regret or fear of anything other than my own personal comfort and safety. What I discovered was the rooms of these places were like an outpatient surgery rooms, they were clean, sterile, just like any other hospital and like any other hospital, they were busy with patients. Both times I’ve gone to a clinic, someone went with me. I think someone has to go because you can’t drive home, you’re drugged up on something to mellow you out, an escape if you will. The recovery rooms were a bunch of recliners you stayed in until you’re stable, whatever that meant or looked like. No one spoke, nurses whispered like it wasn’t real if they didn’t use a real voice. When I had my second abortion, the doctor was as ugly to me as any one person has ever been but in a subtle kind of way. He asked why I was having this, didn’t I know what caused this? I still wonder about that doctor occasionally, wonder if he’s practicing, wonder if he’s heard about God who came as a baby to save him from his sins too. I wonder if he’s still bitter and ugly or retired, maybe even dead himself, he was an older man when I met him many years ago.
The physical side of things in recovery is what one might expect. Cramping for a few days but that goes away fairly quickly, too quickly. What is left are emotions and feelings of regret, guilt, shame, heartache along with many others. I’ve never had any kind of official counseling, no one even knows accept my husband and a few close relatives. I do have any amazing counselor that ministers to me day and night, whenever I may call on Him.
Things that trigger thoughts and memories are seeing an excited or scared pregnant woman, holding a new born baby, watching my own family, reading a bumper sticker, you name it and something very random may trigger it too. I don’t think about this often, lately I have as I knew this blog was coming and I’ve had some anxiety about putting these thoughts on paper. Most of the time, I am thankful, very thankful for what God has done and I focus on that. Not every time I hold a newborn or see a young pregnant woman do I think of this and I’m grateful for that.
When thoughts and memories come up, I take it to Him who does know all. He knows every hair on my head, every awful thing I’ve done and He loves me in spite of it all. When I figured out how to accept His Agape love, I figured out how to let go of the guilt, most of it. Have I forgiven myself? I’m not sure I even know what that really means. Has He forgiven me? Yes, before I ever knew I was pregnant the first time.
How does someone get over having an abortion, or two in my case? I haven’t. It’s a part of this worldly life I’m in and it’s not something I think anyone gets over. Do I hope and think those babies are safe in Heaven? Yes, most definitely.
Trusting God's word that nothing, absolutely nothing is too big for Him is hard for people to do, it goes completely against what the world would say and the prince of this world loves our doubt. No sin is beyond Him, no thought of mine is too ugly for Him and no action of mine is too much for Him to absorb. Sometimes I wonder, do I really believe that? And then I put my eyes back on the God who created me and loves me, the God who lives in me and died for me and I know, without fully understanding that yes, I believe it completely because He heals me too.
I think one day God will call me to a ministry where I can help girls and women who may be facing a situation like mine. I hope I’ll be brave enough to speak truth, gently and boldly and be transparent with my past. I pray He would use me mightily for His purposes, that this in my past would not be wasted but that God would be glorified in all of it.
Written anonymously by my dear friend.
Love,
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments are a treat! Thank for stopping by:).