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Healing the Shockwaves of Abortion


Do You Regret Your Abortion or Your Lost Fatherhood? By filling in the form below you can add your expression of regret to our list. All information remains confidential and is presented anonymously

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A Blessing Denied
Virginia, United States

23 years ago, I aborted my baby.  I knew it was wrong with every fiber of my being.  I was 17 years old, a senior in high school and already a teenage mother; my oldest daughter was one year old at the time.  I regret every single day what I did to my baby and wish every day I could take it back, but I cannot. 

Unlike some I grew up in a Christian home, raised to know better, yet, I did it anyway; I was afraid.  I was afraid of the reaction of my family and friends for putting myself in this predicament once again.  I was afraid of my child’s father because when I was pregnant with my first child he became abusive.  He was adamant about not having the baby; he drove me to the clinic and paid for everything.  Why didn’t I just say no?!  Why was this even an option or what some say is a choice?!  I remember feeling alone; I just wanted him to say everything would be fine if I kept the baby. 

Everything about that day seems like a blur, but I remember the exact location, the room, the sound of that awful machine that sucked my baby away and the silence I endured within afterwards because I felt I had no one to turn to.  I felt so empty and sad, left to deal with my own self-torture.

I did not care about being promiscuous after I broke off our relationship, I did not care about drinking until I could not remember anything, most days I did not care about living…I was pretty much willing to try anything once because in my mind I simply did not matter.  I brought that self-torture into my marriage and had a hard time believing that God still loved me enough to bless me with a wonderful husband and more children.  I almost managed to mess that up as well because I didn’t love myself, so how could I possibly truly love others.  The shockwaves of murdering my own child is real because I allowed it to affect the ones I love most without them knowing the possible root cause until now.  I did it as a teenager, and it has carried its weight well into my adulthood.  I tried forgiving myself for years, but I could not let it go.

In March of 2014, I received the healing I refused for so long by attending a Rachel’s Vineyard Retreat. I remember thinking during that retreat, how can I remain silent? Maybe by me telling the truth of my shame, I can help heal someone else’s pain by letting them know about my baby, my faults, and the Power in the Blood of Jesus.

Today I share openly and honestly about my daughter, who I named Jesse Grace.  It is not easy because I hate what I did to her.  If I could have only been stronger back then, she would be here now.  I am sure any anger and sadness that may have occurred would have subsided by now because it has been 23 years! I permanently fixed a perceived problematic situation, which in actuality Jesse is a blessing I denied and gift I did not receive.  I function because I know she resides in My Father’s loving arms and I have the Hope in my heart that eagerly waits for the day I finally get to meet her and hold her myself.  Therefore, until that day I will always be Silent No More in Jesse’s honor.


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