At the age of 15, I went against the voice inside, walked into the unknown, and experienced date rape.  My first child was conceived.  Pregnant and alone, I wanted to believe the voice of the world - the lie that I would find freedom from my predicament and my fears through the abortion death or my child.  How would I know that I was choosing to be a slave to the culture of death?   On the day of the abortion, for a second time I went against the voice inside, and walked into the unknown.   Trembling with fear, I forced myself to go through the motions.  I signed a waiver,  handed over $250, undressed,  gowned, mounted the table and put my feet in the stirrups.

I saw the face of the doctor as I was given a local anesthetic.  He assured me the abortion would not hurt or take long.  He then inserted icy-cold instruments.  Suddenly I experienced an intense physical and emotional pain, like I had never known.  I jerked and began to cry. I was commanded to "be still".  I felt like an object - dehumanized. 

The doctor had lied.  Hearing the high-pitched sound of the vacuum aspirator, I opened my eyes to see the bottle next to my right foot filling up with blood.  I was overwhelmed with the thought that I could not reverse what was happening.  I wondered, "Is there really a person,  a soul?  And if so, where was it going?"  Feelings of self reproach enveloped me.  I wept uncontrollably, filled with grief, guilt, and remorse.  I wanted to die.

Immediately after the abortion, I saw myself in a window, and said, "I hate you.  You'll never be able to fix this."

Unable to get back to the ‘before’ of my life, I chose self hatred and denial as the way forward.  I masked  the pain of my child’s death through substance abuse and frequent sexual encounters. 

I shut down my maternal instincts, rejected my ability to nurture life, to give birth.  I became an advocate for abortion.

I plummeted into depression and suicidal ideation.

After marriage, I became a workaholic, living on coffee and two packs of cigarettes a day, which led to malnutrition and a physical/emotional breakdown.

I experienced nightmares, unexplained and displaced anger, an expectation to die young, and abortion connectors.  Dentist drills, vacuum cleaners and doctors' offices all brought back to life the moment when my baby died.  The culture told me abortion was no big deal.  Why could I not get on with my life in peace and happiness?  Where was the freedom that was to have accompanied the choice of abortion?

Fourteen years after the abortion, I suffered an ectopic pregnancy that ended the life of another child.  It was safe to face this child, whom we named Joseph Michael.  As I grieved the death of Joseph Michael, it gave me permission to face the truth honestly.  The abortion death of my first child was absolutely, morally and objectively wrong.  I personalized her by naming her Sarah Elizabeth.  Honesty brought me relief from the years of suffering.  The inner conflict came to an end. I finally grieved her loss.

I forgave all those complicit in the culture of death, especially those who held out the belief that killing a fetus, under the guise of 'health care', was the answer to a conception in rape.  I asked forgiveness from God, my child and others.  Healing happened when I accepted forgiveness and no longer held my transgression against myself. 

But even my healing did not calm the shockwaves of my abortion.  I never got pregnant again after Joseph.  Abortion did not free me.  It robbed my children of life, and it robbed Walter and me of them and any other children.

Our first Prime Minister, Sir John A. MacDonald said, "Abortion saps the life blood of a Nation."  I personally know that to be true.  I also know the power and fruitfulness of healing, and the freedom that comes from listening to the voice of truth!  That is why I am Silent No More.