I had an abortion. The circumstances of why I made this decision are all to common and hard to talk about so I just would like to focus on that particular day.

I like many have a very clear memory of particular moments. I remember the weather.  I remember it took 25 minutes to get there. I don’t want to focus on the man who took me. He is not important anymore.

When my appointment was made. I was asked to drive to the back. Go past the protestors on the street and ignore them. Well, I didn’t do that. I looked at them and going around the back I turned my neck at them until they were out of site. They were normal looking and prayerful. That was it. I don’t know what I was expecting. I can't remember what the women in the clinic said to me, but I was expecting it to be a bad experience.

When I got inside and in the room where this simple procedure was to take place, I fast forward to the paper gown and laying back waiting for the doctor. The nurse there was really nice. She talked to me to calm my nerves. The doctor comes in and says nothing. Then it begins, this simple procedure becomes the most horrible horrific pain. Like being cut open from the inside. I remember squirming and crying. Then my “nice” nurse holding me telling me to stay still or it will get worse. Then the doctor acting annoyed.  I wanted to punch them both in the face, but had to try to not move. 

Then comes  the clicking noise of this machine. This machine I want to point out is very important. As I talk with other women who have had this done, they have the same memory of this machine. I have come to know in my heart that as that is a trigger for me to panic, it is also the moment my child was murdered and that was what murder sounds like.

When it was finally over I was taken to a room of about 6 women. Wondering what just happened. Total, instant regret. 

I like many had turned to drinking, drugs, partying. It is a common thing to do to hide the pain. I spent years having panic attacks. I became agoraphobic. I couldn’t go to work.  I went to a psychiatrist and thought everything was ok, but it wasn’t.  When I summoned the courage to speak to my priest I was told my baby was in Heaven waiting for me.  I took time to pray and heal best as I knew how. I thought I was ok. God forgave me, Right? Well, yes and no.  It wasn’t until I went to a healing program that I was also able to forgive myself, which was the hardest thing ever.

During that program I was asked to name my baby girl but I was not quite ready for that.  I just never could find a name beautiful enough to describe this wonderful angel until I began preparing what I was going to say to you today.  

Her name is Sparrow. My little protector who brings joy.

When I started writing this testimony, I wasn’t sure where to start. We women here have a different, but also very similar story to tell. And I wasn’t sure if my story would be any different or helpful to anyone who may have been in these same circumstances.

But you know, the similarity is something that I find important and I wanted to focus on.  Each and everyone of us were in the same situation. We were all frightened, scared, confused and ultimately in despair and regret.

So to me, here we are, part of a club whose members have all suffered from abortion.  And the difference between this and other clubs?  We don’t want any more members.  That is why I am silent no more.