In the 1970’s, our family watched a TV documentary about the growing teen pregnancy crisis. I turned to see the horror on Daddy’s face. As a preteen, I didn’t know what ‘getting pregnant’ meant. But, I knew how ferocious Daddy’s wrath could be. I silently vowed to never disappoint him by getting pregnant like those loose, disobedient girls.
The church we attended was also adamant about girls not getting pregnant. They provided scare tactics, but no tools. When a young lady was found to be pregnant, she was either whisked away to a distant relative or made to apologize to the congregation for her sin.
When I was 15, I got pregnant. I couldn’t tell my Dad nor face being ostracized by the church so I opted for what would be the first of three abortions.
The abortion waiting room looked like a typical doctor’s waiting room. The hallway to the procedure room was painted white, I think. Were there pictures on the walls? I don’t remember.
An internal kind of stripping takes place when I’m asked to undress and slip on a gown. I’m not aware that they’re assisting me in an ongoing visitation of premature and often violent deaths in my family line.
My identity is verified with my driver’s permit which is issued to 15-year-olds. I gave the receptionist $145 in cash.
The anesthesia must have had an amnesia effect. I don’t recall meeting the doctor or getting dressed afterward. I only remember being instructed to pin the oversized pad flaps to the front and back of my panties.
The attendant helps me into the car. I don’t feel like a patient in the true sense of the word. I feel relieved about not having to face Dad or the church, but I don’t feel better having accessed their ‘services’.
When I get home, I pretend I had really bad cramps from my menstrual cycle (not from my uterus returning to normal size after an abortion). This is why I must lie down for the rest of the evening. Daddy doesn’t know enough about menstrual cycles to protest. Momma comes to check on me. I’m glad Daddy doesn’t bother.
The relationship with one young man resulted in three abortions at ages 15 and 16. After we break up, I’m determined not to fall into the trap of sleeping with other men, but I don’t know how to resist their advances.
My past looms over me daily. I can’t speak to anyone about the abortion because everyone thinks so highly of me. I know I’m not a whore, but it would be futile to convince anyone of it now.
I learned later that I was willing to submit myself sexually to men because I missed the love of my natural father. Based on what I’d done to my babies and not wanting to repeat the abuse I experienced as a child, I made a pact with our Heavenly Father to not allow me to have babies if I ever got married - only I didn’t realize He hadn’t agreed to it.
When I got married and became pregnant, I told my husband about the abortions and the abuse that drove me to have them. I beg his forgiveness for not telling him before we married. He held it against me and a great void formed between us. We lost that child. I eventually conceived children successfully. I take care to ask God how to not abuse them as I had been.
Interestingly, I only felt condemnation and shame from religious messages about the abortions - never from God. Throughout my life I received His help from the effects of the abuse I suffered which resulted in decisions to have abortions. His forgiveness was never an issue.
But just in case I missed some aspect of healing, I attended a Rachel’s Vineyard Abortion Healing retreat. While there, I have a vision of my children under a tree with Jesus. They invited me to play ring-around-the-rosie. We roll in the grassy meadow, challenging each other in a human log race down the hill. I have great comfort that they are safe with Him.
Our good, kind, and loving Heavenly Father never abandoned nor shamed me about the abortions. Through constant reassurance of His love and programs like Rachel’s Vineyard, I’m completely restored. I was even able to write a book about my experience.
I’m God’s beloved daughter and always have been. I want others to experience the great peace I’ve found. That’s why I’m silent no more!