I found your website after posting my story at msn.com where two articles are running about adoption vs. abortion. I submitted my story there, but want to repeat it here, if it helps anyone. Thanks!
While now “Pro-life,” and having volunteered at a Crisis Pregnancy Center, I had an abortion when I was 23, in 1981.
An unmarried but engaged Army officer, stationed in Germany, I was raised in a Catholic home which was pro-life. At the time abortions could be obtained at an Army hospital (the law has changed since). My fiance’ was also an Army officer, and if our chain of command found out we were living together, let alone that I was pregnant, we would lose our hard-fought careers.
My career and my future were going away in one fell swoop. I didn’t feel I could turn to my parents, nor to my superiors, who had the highest expectations of me (I was one of the first women integrated into the all-male Army). The pressure was unbearable, and I was in a haze of fear. I remember looking at my male peers and thinking that they literally didn’t have to bear the evidence of their deeds that began at the German bars.
I chose abortion, and went to the Army hospital. I was required to pay for it, however, and had to see the Army psychologist as part of the preparation program. Within one week, I had the abortion, and remember listening to the vacuum machine, and to the nurse asking if all the parts were collected. I came home cramping from the medicine (pitocin I think) they had put in my IV drip, and crying from the trauma of it all.
My relationship with my fiance was already on the rocks, and the abortion put it over the edge. However, we got married because I demanded that if he still wanted to sleep with me that we would be “legal.” Sure enough, on that wonderful footing of a marriage, I was pregnant again within six months. I had that baby, and one quickly after that — my “atonement” children.
The marriage died, and I was emotionally flat. I confessed my abortion to a priest, and he was wonderfully compassionate. Shortly after that I divorced, and I entered into a new spiritual relationship with Christ, which affected my thinking about everything.
For a few years, I remained “Pro-choice.” If it was good enough for me, and got me out of a bind, it had to be okay for others. But somehow I knew that I wasn’t allowing God to have that part of my life. I realized that in order to really have faith that God was able to handle ALL the broken pieces of my life, that I had to believe the He could have directed my path if I had chosen life instead of death for my child. In essence, I couldn’t talk about the sovereignty of God if I didn’t believe in it. I realized I had to surrender my “rights” to God and allow Him to be in charge of my life. That’s when I became “Pro-Life.”
When I’ve helped girls seeking abortions, I’ve been able to hold them, cry with them, share my story, and pray for them. I’ve offered to house them, feed them, and provide for them. In essence, I’ve also had to put my money where my mouth is. 99% of the girls I’ve counseled regret their abortions.
This is such an emotional issue for my generation and that of my children. Therefore, I’ve gone public with my story to my church with a challenge to the congregation to put shoes on their religion and support those who are facing crisis pregnancies, and to open their arms to those who have chosen abortion. The Christ of the Gospel demands no less.
Christ was the beginning of my story — and God has allowed me to have five children here, who will someday meet their sibling in heaven.