To Women With A Choice: That Story on the Billboard is not MY STORY

I read a news story today that broke my heart and left me desperate. I don't often find myself writing out of desperation but today friends, I am. I am desperate for women and teenage girls everywhere to know one thing:

Abortion is life-shattering.

We've been led to believe that abortion is a quick, easy fix to a literal life time of problems. But what most people will concede is that in this life there are no simple fixes. What often looks easy rarely is. Unfortunately, life can be unbelievably hard - even cruel. And when things get hard or cruel - we want a way out. To minimize the suffering. But what I am desperate for you to know is this:

Abortion will not make it better.

Before you stop reading or get angry because you think I am judging - please understand - my message is one of desperation, not judgement. Because you see, we've both been lied to. Told we will feel better; relieved. And now, apparently, grateful. But I can assure you that the most profound feeling you will have is loss.

I know this because 17 years ago I had an abortion. I shared that story - "My Story" - here on this blog last year and am sharing it here again, today for one reason: I am desperate for you to know the truth about abortion.

One more thing, that I am "desperate" for you to know:

God loves you.

Whether you choose to have an abortion or have already had the abortion - God still loves you. I know this in the deepest, realest part of me.

Here is MY ABORTION STORY:

Turning on my phone, this morning, I scrolled down to where I expected to find my email. Instead my eyes landed on the words, "Supreme Court rejects abortion restrictions". In that instant I knew my "plan" had changed. You see, this post has been brewing for years. Actually, almost half of my life. I always planned to write it but, it just never seemed the right time. I blamed my perfectionism but it was fear that kept me silent. The pain that made me mute. But now. Well, now outrage has the floor. Righteous anger, the upper hand. Fear and pain take a backseat to what I know is right and what needs to be said. So, here I go. Whatever may come...

For reasons too numerous to list, helplessness is not a familiar feeling to me. And yet, for some reason, I have continually consumed the lie fed to me by the enemy. "There's nothing you can do.". These words ring in my ears when I hear of tragedy or injustice. "You're too small. Your voice doesn't matter. It won't make a difference. You cannot and will not change anything...". These lies stop me in my tracks. Giving me permission to push down my resolve, so I can remain comfortably quiet. And, I sit on my hands, always  waiting for someone else to do something.

But my silence doesn't make me comfortable.

It eats me from the inside out. Leaving me sick and defeated. I am left without peace and angry at how quickly I have become the coward. So today, when those familiar lies were breathed on me-I shot back. I can do something. And it will make a difference. Even if only to me. My silence will no longer be my accuser. I will shine His Light on my story to reveal Truth. That story. My story, is one I carry with me always. It is forever on the tip of my tongue and yet buried so deep in my gut I find it hard to even utter the words: I had an abortion. 

Finding out I was pregnant at 19 shattered me. My world was already beginning to fall apart so the pregnancy only added to my desperation. The father was resolute. We were not having this baby. After confirming the pregnancy we were directed to Planned Parenthood. The first step in the abortion process is determining gestational age. I remember that during this ultrasound the screen was turned away and it struck me as odd. Wouldn't these, so called, professionals want every woman to make an  informed decision? To look on the face or form of the baby they were about to allow to be killed and say, "Yes. Do it. Kill it"? Isn't that what Women's Rights should be about? Not shielding us from the decision we are making. Not "easing the blow", as it were, like one would do with a child. But allowing us to know, truly know, what we are about to do. This was the first of many things about the abortion process that would surprise me.

Well, the ultrasound revealed some startling news. We were not in the first trimester, as we had thought, but in the second. Planned Parenthood was not equipped to perform those types of "procedures" so we were given a list of other clinics to choose from. I remember being startled by how many there were. How could I have driven past these places for years and been unaware of the untold horrors occurring just inside the walls? How did I not know that they even existed? We chose one of the cheaper clinics and made an "appointment". Again, I remember being so surprised at how quickly and easily it was all happening. With so few checks. Now that I think about it, there are more "checks" in place for a breast augmentation. I remember hearing about a "waiting period" for the procedure so that the patient can be sure of their decision. And yet, to take a life there is no such waiting period. Odd, isn't it?

When the time came for the appointment, I was called in alone. I watched a video and was asked to write-out and sign a statement stating this was my decision and that I knew what I was doing. I again, find this strange, as the majority of the information I have been given up to this point is on my emotional and physical state after the abortion. I was told over and over that, "The majority of women feel nothing but relief and go on to lead full and productive lives.". I am reassured that the procedure will, "do nothing to affect future pregnancies as abortions are perfectly safe and do no harm to the woman's body." I assume this is because they would be unable to sell such a sanitized version of murder if they were forced to detail the actual "procedure". The reality is much less appealing and does not show well in video form.

I am led back to the procedure room to start the first of my two part abortion. I am so far along that they must first dilate my cervix to allow for a larger instrument to be inserted. The larger instrument will kill the baby and then forcibly remove its larger body from my body. I regret that I must speak so crudely about this but it is an incredibly inhumane procedure. And everything about the, so called, Pro-choice movement is about changing perception. They want to humanize an unbearably barbaric procedure by focusing on the woman and her rights thereby ignoring and effectively erasing the victim; really victims. The precious, innocent life-a baby. And, the woman who must live with her "choice".


After this first part of the abortion is complete, I am sent home to wait for my cervix to dilate. They suggest I go for a walk around a park or at the mall to help me dilate. The thought of "taking a stroll" in the hope of hastening the murder of my baby disturbs me so I stay home in bed. I would later find out this was a mistake as I am not dilated nearly enough. Making the abortion more difficult and more painful. I remember being unable to sleep that night. I could find no peace in which to rest so I just laid there. This is the first glimpse I have at just how much this decision will change me. Peace and, as a result, sleep will elude me for years. Until my Lord saves my life and grants me His peace. True peace

The next morning, inside the procedure room, I am struck by how cold the Dr. and nurse are to me. They rarely speak to me. Instead speaking over me and about me. As I said earlier, I was not dilated enough to perform the abortion so it feels as though the "Dr." attempts to pry my cervix open manually. Again, this is incredibly painful and disturbing so I scream and writhe, begging them to stop. He speaks only to the nurse. "Keep her quiet. Hold her still." No words of comfort or reassurance, to me and I begin to realize these two people care very little for me. Their only goal: performing the murder I have requested them to perform. I am unsure of how long the procedure takes but I remember thinking it was over far too quickly. The taking of a life should be marked by the slow passing of time, at the very least. Even if society refuses to acknowledge said life even occurred.

The "recovery room" is what haunts me most. Having been changed by my abortion experience, I am filled with compassion for the 10 to 12 other recovering women who now sit across from and next to me in the plastic chairs that line the walls. Never have I seen such hopelessness. Never have I experienced such pain. There are no sighs of relief. No refreshed smiles. Only grief and loss. No one speaks. What would we say? The loss is palpable. I cannot speak for the group but I remember thinking: I wish I would have known... Why didn't someone tell me? This is not like the video and there is no relief.

In the years that followed my abortion there was not one day that I didn't think of the baby I had killed. The promised "relief" never came and things did not go on as they had. There was no productive or happy life. Only despair and grief. I spiraled downward until finally hitting a rock-bottom, of sorts. It was at my lowest point that I cried out to my God and it was He who finally gave me relief and reprieve. Reprieve from the ultimate consequence of my sin. He did for me something only He can do: He cleared my conscience and restored my life. He forgave me, even when I could not forgive myself. And friends, He is redeeming my brokenness, even now, through my telling of this story.

But this story isn't over. The Supreme Court ruling today is catastrophic. It has been estimated that over the past 3 years 10,000 babies have been saved by the restrictions placed on abortion clinics, in the state of Texas. This happened by simply requiring the Dr.s performing the abortions to have hospital privileges and the clinics they perform them in be held to the standards of most outpatient surgical facilities. Because there are fewer facilities getting an abortion takes more time. And, apparently, in many cases time was the only difference between life and death.

To say I am distraught over this ruling would be an understatement. I am broken. But today, rather than believe the lies whispered over me, I act in the only ways I can. First, I pray. I pray for the babies. And the mothers. And the doctors performing these abortions. I pray for open eyes and changed hearts. I pray for healing and restoration for those of us affected by abortion. And then I write. I let my voice be heard. I stand up and shed light on this destruction. There is nothing humane about savagely taking a life. I refuse to sit by quietly waiting for someone else to tell their story or to confront the truth that: this is murder. And, I- no we-must all stand up for the truly helpless among us. Those who have no voice. These precious, innocent lives. These babies.

Thank-you for honoring me by reading my story.  Please share this if you feel led. It is no longer just my story. It is my God's. He has redeemed it and freed me from the most dire consequences I faced. And, I long for it to be used to reveal His glory.  

Loving and praying for you all today!

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