Through Grace and Mercy

I want to share my testimony with you guys. I am not going to sugarcoat it, so that people can understand the true horror of abortion.

I made the worst decision of my life by having an abortion at 19 (11 years ago). When I first found out I was pregnant, I was a bit nervous and anxious; however, choosing to abort was not an option in my mind at this point. The very first person I told was my older brother, who was at my parent's house with me when I took the test (my parents were at work, we were home alone). I walked into his room and told him I was pregnant, and he reacted by punching and breaking his window. I was very frightened and upset after that. I began to grow more anxious and worried about how my parents would react, if that was how my brother reacted. It was at this time that abortion came to mind, but immediately I disregarded the thought. 

I remember feeling knots in my stomach as I went over how I would tell my then boyfriend. Before I told him, I mustered the courage to call a few of my close friends. I told them that I was pregnant, and I was worried that I would be scared and consider abortion. I begged them to not let me go through with an abortion and to give me support and encouragement to keep my baby. After we discussed everything, they promised to help me out and make sure I didn't even consider anything else other than raising a child. As soon as they were leaving my boyfriend showed up to my apartment. Considering that he saw many of us were crying, I am certain he knew something was up. I said bye to my friends as they wished me luck. 

When I was finally able to let my boyfriend know I was pregnant, my first question after telling him was, "How are we going to tell our parents?"  After which he replied, "There are other options.”  I immediately felt so much disappointment and sadness. I was overwhelmed by the intense emotions of fear, confusion, anger, resentment, hopelessness, and anxiety. I told him I would think about it. We decided to go to his apartment to hang out after we spoke about everything. I don't know why I took a picture of us that same evening in my car. I have looked back on that picture often, wishing I could go back to that precise moment and tell him that I choose my baby. I don't know why I keep that photo...but I do. Every now and then I look back and see such sadness hidden behind a smile, and I remember those intense feelings and the brokenness that was beginning to form.

When we arrived at his apartment his roommate and two other friends were there watching TV. We told them the news together. I don't quite remember their initial reaction, but I remember that the rest of the evening consisted of all of them sitting down with me in the living room and telling me the best choice was to abort. I told them I was uncertain of my choice, but they kept reminding me that we were so young and unable to raise a child on our own. I was so confused, and I remember thinking that I was going to have to go against everyone to keep this baby and that I would have no support if I didn't go through with it. My boyfriend told me that a family member (a few years older) recently got a girl pregnant. He told me his dad and mom were so disappointed in him and how it basically ruined the plans for his life. My boyfriend told me he didn't want to be that disappointment to his parents. I remember thinking that I would lose my boyfriend (who I was obsessed and infatuated with at that time) if I decided to keep the baby. I remember thinking I loved him so much that I didn't want him to feel tied down to me because of a baby. In that moment I was convinced I was doing the most selfless thing, for him. All his friends said so, he said so, and I believed so. Sadly, I fell for the pressure, and I fell for the lies. Although we all technically agreed with the decision, I still felt completely alone, and I began to fall into a depression.

My boyfriend made an appointment the next week, and I went to a Planned Parenthood clinic by myself (he had to work). The security was pretty intense, and the protesters outside were many. As I waited in the lobby I remember looking around and seeing many young girls, some balling their eyes out and others in a zombie state. I remember seeing their boyfriends sitting there, as if they were going to visit a dentist.  They were on their phones, listening to music, and not even trying to comfort their obviously hurting girlfriends. I was one of the very few that was in there alone. I was scared and upset. I was still trying to convince myself that this was the best decision. As they called me in with the nurse, they went over a very brief consultation of what was going to happen. They gave me a small cup of pills, and I took the first dose there (first set of pills that stops the baby from growing but doesn’t actually abort the baby yet) and, almost immediately, I regretted my decision. In tears, I asked the nurse if I could take back my decision. I told her I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it. I was desperate to find encouragement from someone, anyone. She encouraged me, yes, but encouraged me to continue with the abortion. She said if I didn't go through with the second dose my baby could and most likely will have severe damages and disabilities. I couldn’t bear to think of it, nor did I think I could live with myself, to see my baby suffer because of my decision. Looking back now, I would have done whatever it took to save my baby, but once again my fear kicked in, making me choose to continue.

 

I went back to my boyfriend's apartment and waited for the time to take my second dose, the dose that actually causes the abortion. I remember sitting on the couch with my boyfriend and his friends watching TV, feeling complete numbness. It seemed like no big deal to anyone. It was just another afternoon hanging out with friends. I kept going over in my head the decision I had made and the depression that was already crippling my heart. 

It was time for me to take the second and last dose. As I put the pills in my mouth and let them dissolve, within 10 minutes I started to feel intense cramps. When the cramps became unbearable, I made my way to the bathroom. I locked the door and experienced the most severe pain I had ever felt in my life. I sat on the toilet and bent over in pain. I wanted to scream, but my boyfriend and his friends were right outside the door in the living room, watching TV (it was a small apartment). I grabbed a towel to bite on, in order to keep from screaming and was nearly passing out. As I got up, I saw blood everywhere. I saw parts of my baby, an image I will never be able to erase from my mind. I fell to my knees in pain and was blacking out. Concerned that the guys would see all the blood and clumps, I got on my knees and cleaned it up. Throughout the intensity all I could think was, “They cannot see this and be as traumatized and scarred as I have been.” As soon as I left the bathroom I was about to faint when my boyfriend helped me to bed. 

The next two weeks were nothing but a blur. All I remember doing was lying in bed to sleep and cry. I didn’t eat, I didn’t shower, I didn’t answer phone calls, I didn’t go to school or work. I didn’t want to leave the bed. I wasn’t even planning to go to my check up at Planned Parenthood, but my boyfriend told me I should. I went by myself for the check-up a few weeks later (once again he was working). The nurses performed the evaluation, and they told me the abortion wasn’t successful. Parts of my baby were still inside of me. The pill didn’t expel it all. The one in a million chance that it wouldn't work (as they told me) had happened. I was that one in a million. I had to have an emergency D&C. They told me that, had I waited or not gone to my check up, I could have died. The nurse sent me immediately to a room for the procedure, and all I could hear were women screaming from the hallways. It sounded like a torture house. They took me to a little room for a quick consultation of what was going to be done. At this point I was balling my eyes out and my whole body was shaking in panic. When the nurse saw how bad I was getting she offered me more sedatives to calm me down. I took many more and became completely numb, both physically and emotionally. I was a zombie. I simply didn't care about anything at that moment.

They finished up the consultation and walked me to the procedure room. As I walked into the room, I saw a table full of surgical instruments, still full of blood. They had accidentally sent me in a room without cleaning up first. 

The head nurse seemed really upset that I saw it (I know now it is unethical for a patient to see that), but in that moment I was way too drugged to care. To be honest, I can't remember if I waited for them to clean up or if they took me to another room.

As they performed the D&C I couldn’t help but think that my baby was a fighter. The guilt was crippling every fiber of my being, and I was just waiting for it to end and go back home to lay in bed. Once the procedure was done, I called my boyfriend and told him to pick me up. I had told him what was going to happen before the procedure, and he was able to get off work early. 

The only sign I was able to read was one that said, “Abortion is murder. You’re going to Hell.” 

The next six months of my life was pure darkness, pure depression. I started drinking heavily and smoking weed every day to escape. I would often cut myself with razors to release the pain I had inside. 

I remember one night I wrote out my suicide letter. I wrote my goodbyes to all my loved ones. But, by the grace of God, as I wrote my mom my final goodbyes, I couldn’t bear the thought of all the pain I’d put her through. Only the love I have for my mom caused me to not go through with it. I thank God for reminding me of that love, at that moment, which saved my life.

I accumulated so much debt during this time, because I didn’t work. I dropped out of nursing school. I hardly ate. I went down to 110 pounds and I’m 5’9” in height. 

I didn’t visit my family or see friends. All I did was consume myself in the bed and cling unto my boyfriend. The abortion caused several ovarian cysts and also resulted in endometriosis, both of which I was diagnosed with and underwent surgeries for within 1-2 years of having an abortion. Doctors told me I was going to have a hard time conceiving due to all the issues, and deep down I felt like it was justice for what I had done. I was also diagnosed with severe anxiety and panic disorder that following year. I experienced several panic attacks on a weekly basis.

My boyfriend and I inevitably broke up. And I spent many years living in self-destruction because of my abortion. I would sleep around, get drunk three or four times a week, do drugs every day, put myself in situations that could have caused me fatal harm...going home with men I had just met. I didn't really care about anything anymore, and the only time I felt alive was when I was having "fun" partying, drinking my sadness away.

One day I was at a park, and I was confronted with all my brokenness at once.

I was dating one of my best friends from high school. His family knew all the skeleton's in my closet, because we were so close. He started texting me that his mother was worried that we were dating. She was worried that he was dating a person like me. I was sexually abused for 12 years of my life growing up, from age 3-15. His family knew this. She brought everything up. From being a sexual abuse survivor, to being a pothead, a drunk, a woman who had an abortion—and how she wasn't even sure if I would be able to have babies, because many women can't have babies after an abortion. I remember reading all of this and seeing my brokenness through many words in one text. My heart literally felt like it shattered. I cried out in agony and pain from the truth with which I was being confronted. I sat in my car alone staring at these words, which I thought would define me for the rest of my life. 

I had always known about Jesus. I grew up Roman Catholic my whole life and went to private Catholic schools. But in that moment, I felt a need for Jesus. I asked Jesus to help me. I asked Jesus to heal me. I asked Jesus to forgive me. That was the day I truly found Christ.

Christ truly healed me and restored me. He led me to therapy where I continued my healing from all my child abuse and abortion trauma. The therapist on our first initial visit, after hearing the things I have been through, gave me an estimate of 1-3 years in therapy. After six months of going with her on a weekly basis, she told me she didn't think it was necessary for me to continue. She told me she had never really experienced such a quick therapy journey for everything that I had lived through. I know that was all God! Only He was able to do that through me.

Although I will have to forever live with my decision and mourn the loss of my baby, I know I am forgiven...and after 11 years I have finally learned to forgive myself.

I share this because abortion is so evil in its core. What it does to the innocent and what it does to women is very real. Many women are left completely alone in their brokenness to figure it all out after an abortion. That is a sad truth, and that was my truth.

As I found healing (and I will always continue my journey of healing...one never completely heals from abortion) Jesus has shown me that the more I share my story, the more healing I receive from doing so. This is why I share my story boldly and proudly.

"Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Because I am no longer that same broken woman I was before—God has restored and redeemed me, and in Him I am a new creature! Praise Jesus for forgiveness He freely gives! 

I am now a child of God—clean, sober, no longer self-injuring myself, and happily married with two beautiful baby boys!