There is hope, healing and help available for everybody.
There was some violence in my family growing up, and lots of anger issues. We never discussed feelings. I thought I could produce the happiness I needed to make people accept me. I wanted to be loved. I wanted to be accepted for who I was.
I met a guy when I was 21. He said he loved me and couldn’t live without me. That is just what I wanted to hear. When I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go to my parents and tell them. A friend at work said, “Just get an abortion. It’s legal now.” This was June of 1973.
I went to the abortion clinic by myself. They didn’t ask me questions. I remember it was cold and sterile. I remember the abortionist didn’t say much — didn’t ask me how I was doing, didn’t ask me, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I remember hearing the word vacuum and then the doctor saying, “Good news: You aren’t pregnant anymore.” That was the last time I cried for about 20 years. I started shutting down. I started drinking a lot. I started taking prescription drugs — whatever I could do to soothe that internal conflict.
The father of the child was still around and we got married. It was a violent relationship, and he was emotionally and physically abusive. We were married for five years. After that, I said, “No more. I can’t handle being beaten up, afraid, and emotionally abused.” It wasn’t how I wanted to raise my son. So I left him and got back into a church.
Week after week, I got more involved with church. But I still carried that secret with me.
When I remarried, I told my new husband about the abortion. About eight years ago, we joined a new church. There was a lady at the church that I had known growing up. We had lunch together, and I told her I’d had an abortion. She said she’d had one too, but it was like night and day after she went through post-abortion recovery. I’d never heard of it. Reluctantly, I went through it.
It was a miracle. For the first time, I had to realize that it was a child I’d aborted, not a thing. Now I knew that he is in heaven and I will see him one day. I walked out of there with no guilt. I knew I’d always regret the decision to have an abortion, but for the first time — I could breathe. Christ was offering me the palm of his hand all along, but I was just too stubborn and prideful to say, “I need help,” and reach out for it. I am forgiven.
Sharing my testimony was probably my greatest source of healing. I believe the more we talk about it and the more we address the issue, the more this country and the world will be healed. There is hope, healing and help available for everybody.