It is so easy to believe lies - about yourself, about life.  I believed the lies that said that I was worthless and an outcast.  These lies led me to search for love and belonging, for something to make me feel good.  Drugs and promiscuity followed to fill these needs.  I had my first child just after I turned 18.  I struggled with transitioning between abusing drugs and being a mom.  I struggled with the shame of getting pregnant and my past lifestyle, and the shame I brought my parents.  I got pregnant again about a year later, and I became afraid.  I couldn't go through this again, and my boyfriend was abusive.  I had a miscarriage and kept it hidden.  Then I had my first abortion about a year later.  I believed that I couldn't bring another child into an abusive environment - it wouldn't be fair.  I couldn't bring more humiliation to my parents or problems to my abusive boyfriend.  I believed this was the only answer, that it would solve all the problems, and that I could just get on with my life.  I believed this was just a bunch of cells and not yet a baby.  I believed all these lies.

I only remember bits of this abortion.  I really thought I was making the right decision, but I still felt this deep regret as I laid on that table.  I stuffed it away.  I was detached and numb.  I writhed and moaned in pain, even though I was told it wouldn't hurt.  It seemed to take forever.  I left there feeling empty and depressed - and that never went away.  It just became normal - it became me.  I wanted to kill myself, but I couldn't go through with it.  I just went through the motions of life.

I had my second child about a year later, right after my boyfriend left.  The loneliness, emptiness, and depression led me to start going back to some old habits when my kids were with their father.  I tried to rid these feelings with superficial relationships with guys who were using drugs and alcohol - old habits.  This led to two more pregnancies and two more abortions.  There was no way I could bring these guys or lifestyles or humiliation into my little girls’ lives, so I believed it was the only answer.

My girls were my life, and I know I loved them.  But I couldn't connect with them or anyone else.  I couldn't have relationships.  I couldn't feel love, because if I loved, I would feel the immense pain of the abortions.  So, to be able to live, I couldn't love.  

For the next 30 years, I never felt any better.  I changed my lifestyle and got married, but I struggled in this relationship.  I could not figure out why I couldn't be happy and felt so horrible, even though I had everything: beautiful children, a great husband, a good job, a nice home.  I became suicidal - 30 years after.  I started having these panic attacks of sheer terror and confusion.  I began getting this picture of being in an area of dark water with machinery somewhere, and I was moving toward it.  I couldn't get away.  I was petrified.  These lasted for about a year, until I started going through counseling and healing That’s when I realized what those panic visions were.  I was actually there, in the womb, in the dark water being pulled toward the machinery.  The panic was terrifying.  Even with these healing programs, I began getting physically sick.  The panic attacks went away, but my health kept declining.  I had been pushing myself beyond my capacity, driven to succeed - a workaholic and eventually becoming an alcoholic.  The abortions were supposed to fix my problems and allow me to move on with my life.  Instead, they pulled me into a deep abyss that held me captive for over 30 years.  I hated myself, and I believed I was a monster.  And, no matter how much counseling I had, I couldn't forgive myself.