Updated: Jul 2
At 17 I got pregnant; my mother sought to end a pregnancy I desperately wanted. With tactics of threats, terrorization, and intimidation, I felt my voice had been stripped away, and I complied. At 15 weeks I chose to get an abortion.
My mother took me to a clinic in L.A. Between the time I entered and the time I left, I experienced what felt like a staff of cold, hardened, uncaring people. From disgusting abortion jokes to being laughed at as I cried in fear of what steps proceeded to take place to start the dilation process. I didn’t want to be there, I didn’t want them to take my baby from me, but through humiliation, and coldness they too silenced my voice. I felt completely dehumanized by my mother and the staff.
It was a torturous two-day procedure; I had no information about it or any idea what was going in the process. Immediately after waking up from anesthesia I was overwhelmingly overcome with the heaviest sorrow, guilt, and grief I’ve ever barred. Immediately I was hysterical as I yelled “she killed my baby; she killed my baby! She took him from me!”. To further my misery, I was told harshly to “SHH! Be quiet.” and was wheeled to the farthest corner they could put me in away from the others. Left in immense betrayal, feeling violated, and agony of loss for the crime I’d just committed against my own son.
The toll my abortion took on every aspect of my life was unimaginable. You see, the person that walked into the clinic that morning died with my son. The other side of abortion they don’t tell you, is that on the other side of the fence is a graveyard, with plots for your child, and you.
I spent the next 9 year shoving down the grief and loss, succumbing to complete numbness and disassociation from my husband, the father of our aborted child, and the other children that we bore. I walked around in complete silent darkness, daily feeling the weight of my son’s blood on my hands, longing to give him just one hug and tell him how much I love him. Each year that passed mentally and emotionally, I closed one door after another. until finally all the doors were closed, and I was unrecognizable, mentally isolated, still silent and suffering.
By the grace of God, he brought a woman to me, who very patiently and full of His love encouraged me to find healing and forgiveness. After 2 long years of patient pursuit, head strong that I wasn’t deserving of healing or forgiveness, I found it, through She Found His Grace. With a powerful team of wounded warriors, God used his love and embrace through them to walk me through every dark and hidden valley of my pain and regret and delivered me to the feet of Jesus. The feelings of unworthiness of being loved and forgiven slowly dissipated, ultimately disappearing. A new me arose, a woman set free and forgiven by the grace of God. After years of suffering in unbearable pain and shame, I’ve found true freedom in Christ, and with that I’ve found my voice. I will no longer stay silent.