anonymous:
I recently started following you and have gone through a lot of your posts, but I haven’t been able to find a cohesive post about your abortion. I’m curious to know more about the situation and how you became pro-life. If you’d rather not talk about it anymore than you already do, then please delete this message.
sunflowers-inmybed:
I’m sorry I’ve neglected this message, there’s so much to say and I’m not sure where to begin or end. But ask any specific question you may have and I will answer truthfully. I used to be very pro choice to the point where I disregarded any scientific evidence that showed a fetus as more than a ‘clump of cells’ or anything that resembled a human. I didn’t care about the lives of others, I clung onto the seductive lies my pro choice peers used in defense. ‘My body, my choice’ was the only thing that mattered above all. Anything that challenged us was idiotic and an attempt to control us.
Three years ago, I had an intense love affair with a teacher of mine. I thought he was in love with me and that we would be together after I graduated. I failed to see that he was an actual predator, highly manipulative and psychologically abusive. He had control over my thoughts, convincing me my thoughts weren’t real but that his were. I became unsure of myself and feelings to the point where I questioned any thought I had when I wasn’t around him but I figured that he was more intelligent than me so it didn’t matter what I believed. He seemed to love me a great deal but something started to feel terribly wrong and I couldn’t see what.
Around July 2012, I became pregnant with my first child. I was in love with my baby from the moment I discovered her existence. Then dread filled my heart when I realized that he was waiting for me to call and tell him the results. He was full of unstable energy and expressed that I ‘had to abort it’ but when I refused he became filled with rage. He harassed me until I agreed to meet with him somewhere and talk. He broke me down telling me I would be a horrible mother with a ruined body… That I would never make it and he would leave my life forever. He told me that it was only a clump of cells and adoption wasn’t an answer. I said strongly that what I was carrying was a baby, my child, and not a clump of cells. I told him over and over again that I would never have an abortion and that I would literally kill myself if I had to kill my own baby. He didn’t care. He couldn’t lose his job no matter what the cost of it was. He continued to harass me breaking me down with emotional and verbal abuse. I knew I was trapped in and being beaten down so much, I eventually stopped fighting back.
I cried a lot during this time, holding my swelling belly and telling my baby I’d protect her no matter what. He forced me to do drugs like cocaine and ecstasy in order to make sure the baby would die. He found a number to the abortion clinic and made sure I called to schedule an appointment. I arrived there with a plan to kill myself after but I broke down crying loudly and I began to have an anxiety attack. They sent me home and asked if I come back a few days later. I did, more suicidal than before and numb. It never occurred to me that I could walk out and not go through with it. I was trapped by his abuse and his waiting. I couldn’t imagine leaving only to be attacked by him once more. A little spark of hope came over me when they told me there was a mandatory counseling session before the abortion procedure. I thought, somebody’s gotta help me out here and hear my cries. I cried a lot telling the abortion counselor about my despair and loss of direction. In her review that I will read later, she states that I had returned very confident and was looking forward to being in a school play. I told her that the father wanted me to abort the baby and waited for her responses anxiously. Instead, she encouraged that I have an abortion comparing it to a monthly period. She squeezed her fingers together and said it was ‘a clump of cells this big’ in which I accepted. I had not done any research myself on fetal development. I did not know I was receiving inaccurate medical information nor did I know they had used the wrong ultrasound equipment and that had been the reason why I couldn’t see the baby. Why couldn’t she tell me about all of my options or let me see the fetus for all it was? Wasn’t that what being pro-choice was all about, truth and choice?
I was lost and got in line with the other girls who did not share my pain and guilt. They expressed looks of boredom in the waiting room, nonchalant about what they were about to do. I tried my best to remove myself from my body and my thoughts. I thought of escaping often. I remember lying on a cold sterile bed with white walls that surrounded me on all sides. The abortionist was just as cold and didn’t care that I had not yet been asleep. She shoved the vacuum machine into me with great force and I tried to escape in this moment. I thought this had gone far enough but she pulled me back and I fell asleep, unwillingly, hearing the suction machine that will forever haunt me.
After it was over I requested the largest cocktail of drugs I could. I was high for a couple of days but when that wore off, I began to abuse the Vicodin they had given me and mixing it with alcohol. Drinking became an escape from reality so I made it into a daily habit until I realized I couldn’t run from the truth any more. I tried to hold onto my pro-choice views, expressing them with a false sense of power, but they began to crumble away exposing the truth underneath. There was an innocent life in me that I took away before they even got the chance to open their eyes. My baby would never have a Christmas morning or know the warmth of a hug or a kiss. She’d never feel her face wrinkle with a smile or know true love. In her life, she lived in darkness and had her body ripped to shreds and disposed as trash. I mourned for her, crying every day.
I attempted to commit suicide some time later and almost succeeded. Much later months into my recovery, I realized I had to be here not for myself but to fight for the life of others. I knew, from a logical standpoint, that my experience with abortion was not the experience of most other women… That my trauma and loss wasn’t shared. But I began to see that like my baby, there were so many more like her whose lives are lost tragically everyday. Like her, these babies were not choices but innocent little humans. I began to change my views and immediately my heart filled with love and compassion for others. I want to show women that there are options and solutions beside abortion. I want to help give them more of those options if no one else is and help spread accurate information related to fetal development that so many others, like myself, do not receive. I want to help others see that abortion is never the answer and every single person, no matter how small or helpless, is worthy of life. I want others to come to the same understanding that I have in which life is meant for everyone and not only for the wanted, wealthy, and those in good health. It is important that we fight but that we show a great love and understanding for all, especially mothers who face stigma, shame, judgment and doubt surrounding pregnancy.
I believe we can all rise above this.
cultureshift:
We are better than using violence to destroy our own children as a way to avoid the consequences of our actions and the responsibility of parenthood.
We are better than abortion.
Dear Cultureshift,
The easiest way to heal oneself is by healing others.
Your account is really tragic. Youth is being manipulated in so many different ways in todays’ time. Its bewildering.
From sex to slander to body to mind; peer pressure has been overwhelming us with believing these false deities as our saviours.
May God protect us, and help us see things for what they truly are.