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Prisoners of Choice
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Friday, August 21, 2015
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Three of us stood at a bulletproof window separating us from an armed, uniformed receptionist. She slid a sign-in sheet and black pen through a small opening and asked us to sign it and exchange our driver's licenses for a visitor's badge. All the while I thought back to what I heard in orientation: In the case of lock-down, visitors will be escorted out; however, under certain circumstances they may be required to stay until the situation is resolved. What was I getting myself into? Maybe my husband was right, and I should have declined the invitation to co-lead one of the post-abortion healing retreats Rachel's Hope takes into the local women's jail.
The metal door opened and for security reasons, we had to go through one at a time. I was first, and as the door thundered shut behind me, I faced another. Being claustrophobic, I started breathing heavily in this little portal, even though it was only seconds before the second door opened. My frayed nerves created a cigarette craving. Of course, smoking was not allowed; in fact, nor were cell phones, purses or keys.
The chaplain and biggest supporter of bringing post-abortion healing to incarcerated women waited for us on the other side. The retreat was being held in the library on the opposite side of the facility. Curious eyes followed us as we passed the high chain link fences that enclosed small yard areas outside each dorm-style cell. From my viewpoint, the cells were absent any form of comfort or hominess; only bunk beds and bare walls.
We arrived at the library and began to set up, making the room less institutionalized and more inviting and calming; something that would help the participants forget for a while where they were. Open flames were not allowed so battery operated candles were scattered around the room. The chaplain provided pencils … the tiny ones used by golfers because larger ones are potential weapons. We brought in a variety of snacks, a special treat for participating in the program and one more way to make the women feel special.
I expected to be faced with cold-hearted criminals, smacking gum and sneering at the “church ladies”, but as the seven women entered, I was taken aback. Although displaying pleasure with the décor and practically drooling over the snacks, they were visibly anxious, nervously chatting amongst themselves. *Ann told me later she, as well as the others, avoided approaching “the ladies” in fear of saying something stupid or wrong. In addition to their anxiety, their faces displayed defeat, sadness, and pain.
The first activity involved going around the room and sharing our abortion stories, with we three co-leaders going first. As we spoke, the women nodded their heads and exchanged knowing looks. Although I was the only co-leader that suffered from alcoholism, albeit sixteen year sober, and institutionalized for depression, we all had demons in our past. While we shared, the women were heard whispering, “Them too?”
Their offenses were primarily drug and alcohol related; possession, possession for sale and some cases of theft and assault. All but one in the group had obtained multiple abortions, including *Susan, who had over ten. They had either been encouraged to abort by parents or a significant other; felt it was best due to their living situation or as Susan candidly disclosed, “used it as a form of birth control”. They tried to maintain a sense of “being cool” while sharing their stories, but it didn't take long before the dam of pain and remorse broke, releasing torrents of tears. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding their pregnancies, they were not prepared for the havoc their “choice” would wreak on their lives.
Read more HERE.
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