My name is Monica, and I currently live in Arizona, but most of my life I lived in Southern California.  Abortion is a topic no one wants to talk about.  It's not easy, but if we want to end it once and for all, we need to have an uncomfortable conversation.  There are too many women and men in this world, and even in our own Church, walking around with a painful secret that we need to confront.  These women and men need to know that they can seek love and forgiveness here and, more importantly, with God.  They need not face this painful secret alone; they can find forgiveness and healing.  They can stop feeling the shame and guilt that comes with their secret.  

I often ask myself, Why did I have an abortion? I usually come up with the excuses the world gives us—those that lie to us, telling us that bringing a child into the world is a burden, that it would bring shame, or that it would ruin my future. The truth is that killing a child causes much more damage.

I couldn't afford another child out of wedlock. I was recently divorced, with two young children under five. The financial burden and shame would be too overwhelming. There was no love between me and the baby's father, a casual boyfriend, and my family would disown me. My marriage had been abusive, and my ex-husband had effectively disappeared. The only support I received was from my family, whose love always felt uncertain. Another mistake would have severed that connection forever, and I wondered how my living children would survive.

As soon as I made that fateful decision, my blood ran cold. I felt nothing for my baby's father when he begged me not to go through with it. The procedure is a blur; I have completely blocked out that day. I don't even remember who drove me to the clinic or how I made it home. The darkness that engulfed me was overwhelming.

I turned to alcohol and drugs to numb the pain I felt. I was angry with my decision and lost all respect for myself. I thought my choice would benefit my children, but it only caused separation. I was out drinking every night, and when I was home, I was just an angry mother who felt unworthy of happiness. I burdened my family with caring for my children while I tried to erase a nightmare that defined my life.

My life became a revolving door of men who exploited my low self-esteem. The only friends I kept were others just as broken as I was, so we could drink and get high together. I attempted suicide multiple times. This lifestyle led to another unwanted pregnancy. I remember going to a clinic for what I thought was a venereal infection. I didn't realize I was pregnant. The doctor gave me medication to clear the infection and, on his way out, said, "Oh, by the way, you're pregnant. I would get rid of it." The shame and humiliation I felt were overwhelming. A friend of mine at the time arranged for my second abortion.

My life was spiraling out of control. I had stopped going to church years ago, feeling that even God didn't want me. Then, the unimaginable happened—I found a lump in my right breast. Part of me wanted to die, but another part was scared. I thought I was headed to hell, and no one could save me. I went to my doctor, and after some tests, she told me the lump was nothing. At 33, I was too young to have breast cancer, and the lump was just related to my periods. I left it alone and continued living my reckless lifestyle.

That lifestyle grew tiring, and so did I. I was tired of the fast-paced life and just wanted to settle down. The men I was with were only using me, and my children were getting older. My mom invited me to a church retreat, and I went. It was there that I began to feel God back in my life. I felt a love I had never experienced before, and I craved more.

I went to confession for the first time in years, but I didn't feel forgiven. I wanted to take my secret abortions to the grave and pretend they didn't happen. I even got offended if others talked about pro-life issues and got angry when my Church displayed or handed out pro-life flyers. Everyone else's piety annoyed me. I was returning to Church, but I was still outraged.

A year later, I decided to switch doctors. I wanted someone who was more holistic and spiritual. The lump in my breast never went away. This second doctor ran more tests. I was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer, which had spread to my liver. My doctors estimated I had maybe five years to live. I needed spiritual salvation—and I needed it fast.

I confessed my abortions to several priests at different churches. Around this time, I was living in San Diego, California. I met a priest who offered me spiritual guidance and introduced me to Rachel's Hope through the Diocese of San Diego.

At Rachel's Hope, I learned that what I was suffering from was PTSD stemming from my abortions—and I hadn't even realized it. I didn't trust in God's forgiveness because I kept confessing the same sins over and over. I didn't believe God could forgive me for everything I had done. I was also haunted by trauma from my childhood and my abusive marriage. I listened to demons filling my mind with lies—telling me I was worthless and beyond forgiveness. I was able to bond with my children, who are now in Heaven, and even name them.  I chose Taylor and Samantha.  The baby boy and baby girl who are in Heaven now pray for their brothers here on Earth and me.  

I participated in another retreat with Rachel's Vineyard in the Diocese of Phoenix. I have met women just like myself who believed the lies but are now healing. I am still healing. I hold hope and trust in God's mercy. In a way, I feel that my cancer diagnosis saved my life. If I hadn't been diagnosed when I was, I don't know how my life might have unfolded. I was an angry woman who thought I was in control. After surrendering that control to God, I am a happy person. I still have stage IV cancer, but I have been thriving with it for over 24 years. God is a merciful God who loves and forgives me—I know that now. That mercy has helped me keep going. I am no longer afraid to die; I trust God.  

I am sharing my story with you because I know women and men who have had similar experiences are reading (or listening).  They feel angry, guilty, ashamed, or whatever you fill in the blank with.  You don't have to feel that way.  God loves you and is calling you back home.  I always tell others that my breast cancer saved my life.  Without that diagnosis, I don't know if I would have ever gotten out of that darkness I found myself in.  With God’s grace, Rachel's Vineyard saved my sanity.  They helped me to embrace God's love for me, despite my many sins.  I could finally hear Jesus say to me, "Neither do I condemn you; go, and do not sin again" (Jn 8:11).