When I was a freshman in college I had a feeling I was pregnant. Waves of panic overcame me. I prayed to God to not let it be true. The next week I woke up after dreaming that a little girl was running and hugging me. I shrugged it off. After the school nurse confirmed my fears, I mentioned what I thought the best choice would be. “That will come back to haunt you” she said. I thought, “How would she know? Has she ever been 18 and pregnant?” The baby’s father begged me not to abort our child. He vowed to be a good father.
At Planned Parenthood an ultrasound was performed with the screen turned away and the sound off. I laid there in silence, scared. I was asked if I was ready to be a parent. Anyone can guess my answer. I asked, “How big is it?" and was told “It’s nothing, a clump of cells, the size of this pencil tip.” I went through with the abortion, and afterward almost passed out when allowed to get up by myself to use the restroom.
Initially I felt relief and returned to my “life” as if nothing had happened, but I found myself turning to alcohol and promiscuous behavior.
In nursing school I learned about fetal development and the horrifying reality came to my eyes. I had consented to killing my baby without even knowing a baby was there.
After I got married, my husband and I lost a baby to miscarriage. I had seen the baby’s heartbeat twice. I miscarried when the baby was the same age as the baby I aborted.
We would later be blessed by two more children but my abortion left a hole in my heart that won’t be filled until I meet that girl in my dreams, my daughter, in heaven.
I have found healing through my church’s abortion recovery program, and I know that because of Jesus I will meet my lost children one day. I have apologized to my daughter’s father, and have told others my story in hopes that my ashes can be turned into beauty. That is why I am Silent No More.