My name is Melody Stefanson. I was 16, scared and desperate when I got pregnant so I agreed with family and friends who thought abortion was the only choice. I was convinced my life would be changed forever if I had this baby, and at this point, I convinced myself it was only a clump of cells. I didn’t know until much later that my parents knew I had other options and were looking into maternity homes for me.
About a month after the abortion, I found myself very depressed. I slept too much, drank too much and took LSD. I had many sexual encounters, just to feel some sort of connection. After I went on a low-dose birth control pill, I found myself pregnant again. I told the father and he said the choice was mine to make. What I understood was that he didn’t care about or want this baby. I drank more and took more drugs until I was three months pregnant and then went to an abortion mill in the states. I was awake for the whole procedure. I heard the suction and watch the jar fill up with my baby’s blood and body parts. The nurse said it was just tissue, but I knew the truth. I drank more than ever that night.
That same year, I got pregnant for a third time. This time it was on purpose. I’ve since learned that many women who have abortions repeat the same cycle, but this one had a different ending. I married the father and had my baby. But my husband and I got divorced in just six months.
My son was 3 when I had my third abortion. I drove myself to the procedure because I didn’t want to tell anyone I was going to climb onto that table again. The abortion was extremely painful this time. I was weak and bleeding heavily afterward. I had to stay at a friend’s because I couldn’t drive myself all the way home. I never told anyone I had three abortions. With doctors, I would admit to one or two. I could never find the courage to tell the whole truth. I know people wonder how I could have done this terrible thing three times. I can’t explain it, but when I look back, all I can see is my desperation. Like many women, I relied on abortion to act as birth control. It’s a terrible truth to admit, so I blocked it and refused to acknowledge it.
Then one day, I was watching TV one day and I heard a woman talking about her abortion and how much she regretted it. I finally knew, I wasn’t alone. I cried so much that day, grieving my children and finally admitting to myself what I had done. Later I wrote a song for my three aborted children. It was a love letter to them, filled with my regret. I hoped that people who heard it and who also lost children to abortion would identify with my pain.
Through my years of searching, I finally found Jesus. He set me free from the shame and guilt. I also found my way to Rachel’s Vineyard and it helped me find the deep healing I needed. With that healing came a gift from God – the courage to speak out. I wanted to be a voice for my children, to reach women like me with a message of healing and to expose the lies of abortion. I now had a purpose and my children had a voice. My voice.
I still mourn my unborn children and it pains me to imagine what they experienced as doctors and their diabolical machines tore them apart. I had chosen to use violence as birth control and my children paid the price. I have three beautiful children now and 11 grandchildren. They are all a gift from God. But I will never forget you, my precious first three. I named you Cherice, Daniel and Tamara and for you, I am Silent No More.