I was 16 years old when we found out we were pregnant. My initial reaction was to want an abortion. I was scared, didn’t want anyone to know, and was only thinking of myself. Almost immediately, I regretted saying it, but I waited a few days to bring it up to my girlfriend. By the time I did, her mom had already found out, made the appointment, and wouldn't let me go with them. Suddenly, it was over.
I remember walking into my girlfriend’s house after she got home. As I walked down the steps and saw her lying on the couch in the family room, we both started crying. We felt empty and lost, and I was overwhelmed with guilt and shame because my child was gone. I knew it was a child—not a fetus or a clump of cells—but a human being, my child.
Our relationship started to deteriorate because I couldn’t handle the grief, guilt, and shame of what we had done. I still loved my girlfriend, but I couldn’t bear the weight of the abortion.
After we broke up, I turned to alcohol. From 1985 to 1994, I drank every chance I got, trying to numb the pain and forget everything. I flunked out of college, couldn’t maintain a stable relationship, and had two failed suicide attempts that I believe only failed because God intervened.
In 1995, I got married and had two children, but we also had two miscarriages. I was convinced that God was punishing me for the abortion. Our marriage ended in 2007, and I was consumed by anger, shame, rage, and guilt.
Eventually, I married someone who truly is my best friend. We started attending church, and one day I went to a banquet for a local pregnancy crisis center. The speaker talked about how abortion affects men, and I couldn’t believe it—someone was finally talking about this. I listened intently and later spoke with him. He gave me the names of some organizations, and I ended up joining He Found His Grace, a men’s abortion recovery group. That decision changed my life.
After 40 years of guilt, grief, and shame, I finally understand and accept that God forgives me through Jesus Christ. The class was painful at times, but feeling the pain was necessary for healing. The other men in the group provided support, understanding, and encouragement. Everything in the class was rooted in God’s Word.
Looking back, I can see that God was with me all along. It was Jesus Christ who pulled me out of the pit I had been in for 40 years, trying not to drown in sorrow and shame. Now, I look forward to meeting Jesse Rene one day, and I imagine it will be a joyful occasion. I’ve thought of her every day since August 1984, and now, thanks to Jesus’ love for me, I no longer want to hide or forget her. Instead, I can smile and say, “I love you
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