Hello, my name is Ann, and this is my story:

I was raised in London, Ontario with socialist values that taught me to care deeply for marginalized people. However, there was a devastating blind spot: the protection of the most vulnerable among us, our children in the womb.

When abortion did arise, I was told that if my mother had not had an abortion before me, I would not exist. I never asked if that was true, but that message shaped my understanding of fate, empowerment, and choice.  I later completed a Master’s degree in Socio-Cultural Anthropology at the University of Toronto, where I learned to question absolutes and deconstruct meaning. I was active in the music scene and focused on self expression, but I lacked grounding in God.

In 2016, during divorce proceedings and the grief of losing a close cousin to cancer, I became pregnant. The father and I had been dating about a month. When he asked if I wanted a child, I said yes. For four days, I rejoiced. Then fear took over. Those around me were afraid. My mother was caring for my father after a stroke. Friends encouraged abortion for comfort and stability. I believed I was choosing freedom. Most tragically, my sister offered to put her life on hold to help raise my baby. But in my despair, I did not believe my child or I were worth such a sacrifice. I turned her down and listened instead to the lies so that I could return to how things had been.

The abortion was stark and clinical. I sat alone in small rooms. I wasn’t shown my ultrasound, but I leaned forward and glimpsed my baby’s outline. I remember thinking, “there’s a shape.” For a moment, I saw the reality of my child’s life. I told the doctor I wasn’t sure, but in my distress, I submitted. Ten minutes later, my baby was gone.

Afterward, I tried to return to normal, but grief set in, along with deep moral trauma and a growing longing to hold my child. For years, I struggled until I hit rock bottom. Then, by the grace of God, a late-night online search led me to Project Rachel. I was able to face the truth of my love and my loss. I named my daughter Emma Heather Rose. I brought my grief to Christ and began to trust that He holds her in love.

Through Jesus, I have come to know both truth and mercy. Accepting His forgiveness—and learning to extend it to myself and others—was the beginning of real healing. Today, I live differently. I am immersed in Scripture and Christian community. I can be around children again. I can sing again. I know my daughter is alive in Christ, and by His grace, I will be with her one day.

When Jesus says, “Follow Me,” He calls us out of fear and illusion into truth, repentance, and life. I stand before you humbled by sin, yet renewed by a grace I could never earn, but gratefully receive. I speak for Emma Heather Rose, and for all who suffer in silence and miss their children.

That is why I am Silent No More.