When I was 15 I got pregnant with my son. Five days before he was born his father was killed in a car accident. Though my parents had originally encouraged me to place my baby for adoption, they were very supportive of my decision to keep him and helped me to finish high school.   

Half way through my senior year, I turned 18 and started going to bars. There I met my new boyfriend; my knight in shining armor who I hoped would marry me and be a daddy to my son. We were very much in love, and he loved my son, too. Just after graduation, I discovered I was pregnant again. I couldn’t face telling my parents. I couldn’t handle them being disappointed in me again. I was afraid. My boyfriend didn’t seem to want to have this baby. Instead it seemed like he just wanted to be rid of a problem. What on earth would I do with 2 children by 2 different fathers? Who would ever want me? I didn’t want an abortion, but I didn’t want to be alone and I desperately wanted a daddy for my son.   

It was a day in late August 1980. At the clinic, they asked me why I was choosing abortion. I wasn’t “choosing” abortion at all; I felt like I didn’t have a choice. The room was cold and for a minute I think I convinced myself I was just going in for a pap.  They told me I would have some cramps, I would hear the suction machine, and then it would all be over. I remember being scared out of my mind and wanting to leave, but I couldn’t. I had to go through with this. I remember the nurse holding my hand as I started to cry, and I realized that it wasn’t my insides that were being sucked out of me, but my baby. I wanted it to stop. Not only did my baby die that day, but deep down inside, so did I. In the waiting room afterwards, they gave me juice and cookies, like I had just given blood or something. I remember thinking, “I just killed my baby and I get juice and cookies for a reward.” It made me sick inside. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I just wanted to get drunk & stoned and kill the pain in my body and soul. I ended up on a street corner, screaming & crying out to God to forgive what I had done.  But I knew God couldn’t forgive this one – this was the unforgivable sin.  At least that’s what I thought. 

I bled for 2 months afterwards, ending up in the hospital with a D&C.  Sometimes an abortion is not complete and parts of the baby can be left inside, causing hemorrhaging. I know this is exactly what happened to me. A year later, I was diagnosed with endometriosis. With the realization that I may never have another child, I believed this was God’s punishment for what I had done.  The relationship with my boyfriend eventually ended. I became promiscuous; I drank, and did drugs - anything to stay numb and not have to think about life. I had a few relationships in between my running around, but I wouldn’t let anyone too close. If I did, they might find out who I really was. I went through the motions of living but really only existed. 

But on December 23, 1993 my whole life changed. I experienced the love & mercy of God filling my heart. That night was the beginning of a healing journey that I’m still on today. Like Thomas touched Jesus’ wounds - Jesus touched mine that night and began to heal me. I have received God’s forgiveness. I have learned to forgive myself.  I have grieved for my baby, Jennifer Rose, and for the loss of my fertility as my husband and I are unable to have a child. 

I DEEPLY REGRET MY ABORTION. Living with the painful truth that I took the life of my child would not be possible if not for the grace of God. In the most mysterious ways that I can’t even begin to understand, God has transformed the ugliness of my sin into a beautiful testimony of His mercy. 

It’s time the truth be told and abortion be seen for what it really is – the death of a child and the wounding of women and men for life, as we grieve for the little person who is no more.

Terri White

recoveryandhope@hotmail.com   

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