The Treasured Pearl

August 4th, 2016

by Nancy Belzile, Regional Coordinator for Northern New York

 

God is ever present, bringing us consolations at the most unexpected time. It wasn’t until a short time ago that I started thinking about my children lost from abortion. I mean actually pondering what they looked like, what their personalities were like–would they have been tall or what color would have been their hair or eyes?

 
Sometimes, it is uncomfortable talking and thinking about them so much and not my earthly children. I love them all equally, all five of them.  I am sure that God will place it on my heart to blog on each of them as time goes on.

 
It is reality that my children exist. It is reality that they are in heaven with Jesus. It is a reality that we love each other very much.

 
Considering my three earthly children, considering the genes brought forth from their father and myself, I can contemplate that my son Matthew would have been tall, dark, and handsome, probably have hazel/blue eyes. He would have been a loving and kind man. God only knows what could have been. The thought of meeting them one day brings me so much hope! So with that, these were the consolations given to me today, as I prepared for Mass in communion with all the saints, including my two children living with Jesus.

 
For you, Matthew Carmel ~ love you forever ~ mommy

For Where There Are Two

August 4th, 2016

by Nancy Belzile, Regional Coordinator for Northern New York

It was over 30 years before I was able to acknowledge and provide a visible memorial for my children lost from abortion. During my weekend   memorial-9-14-13retreat with Rachel’s Vineyard in Fall 2007, my children were named Matthew & Elizabeth. An important step in the process of healing is bringing humanity to the child and naming them.  It is always a challenge when people ask me, “How many children do you have?” I often respond, 3, but I really mean 5. Yes, Amen, I have 5 beautiful God-given children.

In 2013, Pro-life Action League along with Priests for Life co-sponsored the first annual National Day of Remembrance for Aborted Children. And, with that, God took me on a new journey to visually memorialize my children.natl-day-of-remembrance-2014

When Fall 2014 came, God placed it on my heart to have a sunrise service. Not many people came, and we didn’t have a priest to lead, but we did it anyway. The little tea lights glittered in the darkness as the sunrise peeked through the trees.

In 2015, my children were given their middle names: Matthew Carmel and Elizabeth Rose.  That September was extremely painful and difficult, emotionally and spiritually. I was ready to cancel the National Daynational-day-of-prayer-2015 of Prayerful Remembrance.  I reached out to many for prayer and support.

After receiving an outpouring of love it was placed on my heart that the only way I could make it to this day was to make a memorial for Matthew Carmel and Elizabeth Rose. And so I gathered some of the items collected from the past: the certificate of life provided from the Shrine of the Holy Innocents in Manhattan, where their names are written in the Book of Life, a pink and blue Rosary from the Divine Mercy Shrine given to me from my friend Margaret, the Baptism Candle and Lace Angel from the RV Retreat.  I added the butterflies, crosses, bouquets of flowers, and baby booties for a better symbolic treasure of the love I desire to express for them.

Broken Maternity, a Sisterhood of Sorrow

July 25th, 2016

by Kathryn Berkowitz, CLA,CCE,CPD

In the classic text, Childbirth Education: Practice Research and Theory, Elaine Zwelling writes: “In her classic work on the psychology of women, Deutsch discussed pregnancy as being the fulfillment of the deepest and most powerful wish of a woman, an expression of creation and self-realization. (Deutsch, 1945) Somewhat in contrast, pregnancy has also been identified as a developmental crisis, a critical life period in which psychic conflicts of previous developmental phases may be revived, often enabling new solutions to be found and psychological growth to occur. (Bibring, 1959; Caplan, 1957) Despite the fact that pregnancy is often viewed as a physical experience, in the literature it is most often defined as a psychological or emotional experience. There is a certain distinctive quality of inner experience during pregnancy that sets it apart from life at any other time.”

The power of emotions that we experience during pregnancy cannot be underestimated. Pregnancy is both a major physical and psychological experience in our lives. Our emotional state during pregnancy can effect the choices we make and how we relate to our partners and children, both for better and for worse. As a post abortive woman, a mother who has given birth to five children, and a childbirth educator and birth doula for sixteen years, I have long pondered how my choice to have an abortion in my first pregnancy has impacted my own mothering and that of many women I have known.

Pregnancy, birth, and postpartum experiences bring with them an increased awareness of our bodies, emotions, needs and desires, strengths and vulnerabilities. These experiences are also the ultimate culmination of our sexuality. We give birth with our total beings, our minds, bodies, and spirits.

Confidence in our bodies’ ability to grow, birth, and nurture our children is essential to our fulfillment in motherhood. In his groundbreaking book, Childbirth Without Fear, Grantley Dick Reid theorized that a mother’s emotional state can affect the ease of her work during labor and birth. He brought awareness to the fact that fear and other negative emotions produced a cycle of fear, tension and pain which inhibited blood flow to the uterus, thus slowing labor and creating excessive discomfort for the mother. Research has now shown that these emotions produce neurohormones which have a negative effect on the progress of labor and birth, resulting in a commonly given reason for many Cesarean births today, known as “failure to progress”.

In the book Pregnant Feelings, Midwife and Childbirth Educator Rahima Baldwin writes:

“If you have ever been pregnant before and that pregnancy ended in miscarriage, stillbirth, abortion, or a dissatisfying birth experience, your experience of grief and loss may still be impacting your present pregnancy.” When a pregnancy comes to an end we become tremendously vulnerable, both physically and emotionally. Having experienced the power of our role in creation, we become aware of the frailty of life.

The emotions surrounding the loss of a child through abortion are very complicated and the subject of much controversy. I would like to present some information and ask some probing questions about the complexity of these issues surrounding the implications for childbearing after a previous abortion.

Teresa Burke, a clinical psychologist and author of Forbidden Grief, The Unspoken Pain of Abortion observes : “In my clinical experience, I have seen that the emotional pain related to abortion is likely to be prolonged and likely to create negative distortions in a person’s life that are not readily understood or accepted by themselves or others. Grief from an abortion can be extremely complicated and can be experienced on all levels of the personality. For many women, the source of the distress my go unrecognized, unspoken, or unnamed.”

Emotions are very powerful forces whether we name them or not. They will persist in manifesting in ways such as self-sabotaging behaviors or physical symptoms. It is part of the healing process to identify these often hidden feelings and understand how unresolved emotions can impact the present. Healing hidden traumas is important so they won’t likely repeat. To the extent that past traumas carry unrecognized or trapped emotional energy, they can profoundly impact our present and future experiences. They tend to make us believe and react as if what is happening to us now is just like what happened to us then, especially since traumatic experiences are characterized by events which cause loss, anger, fear, and pain.

Julius Fogel, both a psychiatrist and an obstetrician who has performed over 20,000 abortions had this to say: “Every woman, whatever her age, background or sexuality has trauma at destroying a pregnancy. This is part of her own life. When she destroys a pregnancy, she is destroying herself. There is no way it can be innocuous. A psychological price is paid. It may be alienation, it may be pushing away from human warmth, perhaps a hardening of the maternal instinct. Something happens on the deeper levels of a woman’s consciousness when she destroys a pregnancy. I know this as a psychiatrist.” (Coleman, McCarthy “A Psychological View of Abortion” Washington Post, March 7, 1971)

In her introduction to the book Forbidden Grief, The Unspoken Pain of Abortion, Dr. Laura Schlessinger wrote “Eliminating a life within the womb diminishes the value of life for all humanity and impacts the life of a woman in ways she cannot anticipate.”

I tend to agree with all of the experts based on my personal experiences with abortion, and many stories related to me by women for whom I have provided support over the years. I elected to have one at the age of 19. It was my first pregnancy. When I found out that I had conceived I was, at first, filled with a sense of awe and wonder even though my circumstances were not at all favorable for parenting the child. I had the pregnancy confirmed by the largest OBGYN practice in town where I had been a patient for a number of years. When asked if I was happy about the pregnancy, I remember feeling confused by my feelings of attachment to the baby and the reality of my circumstances of being young and ill prepared for parenthood. And the biological father of the baby had made it clear that he wanted no part of parenting. He emphatically argued for an abortion.

So, I was referred to the “pregnancy termination clinic” where my consultation consisted of a very brief health history, being asked if I had considered placing the baby for adoption, and if I had any questions about the procedure. I told them that I didn’t know how I could bear the agony of carrying a baby for nine months and then giving it away. I had not allowed myself to admit how attached I was to the baby. I was painfully unaware that the abortion would feel like an amputation in the coming days.

I asked a few questions about the development of the baby, and whether or not it could feel pain. I was told that my 10 week old baby was very similar to a “popcorn shrimp” in structure and was not able to feel pain, both of which were horrendous misrepresentations of the truth. An appointment was made for three weeks later and, in spite of many temptations to cancel, I kept it.

When I arrived, I was asked to remove my clothes and given a hospital gown. I was led into a room with several other women who sat there with blank stares as we each waited our turn. I was beginning to feel nauseated and terrified. I have never felt so alone in my life. I could hear the loud vibration of the suction aspiration machine that would soon consume the baby in my womb. I remember thinking. “Why won’t someone come in here and stop me?” That fantasy was rudely interrupted by a nurse calling my name.

With my knees shaking, I entered the procedure room and was instructed to get on an exam table. The nurse placed my feet in stirrups, told me to slide my bottom down to the end of the table, draped me with sterile drapes, and proceeded to explain what would happen next. I was feeling faint and tuned her out. That is when the doctor walked in. I was shocked that it was my regular gynecologist. I later found out that he also co-owned the termination clinic. I didn’t expect that a respectable doctor would be involved in abortion. I found it odd that I was judging him, since I was the one asking for his services. Other than a brief injection of anesthetic in my cervix, I was unmedicated for the procedure.

I remember the doctor telling me that I had “pretty eyes” and to “Relax and everything will be fine”. And then it began, the most excruciating pain I have ever felt in my life, and the loud noise from the machine. So loud, that I could not hear what the doctor and the nurse were laughing about while I lay there, feeling like I was dying. It was surreal.

And then it was over. They brought me juice and let me lie there awhile. And then they brought me my clothes and let me rest in the recovery area with several other women, some of which were laughing and chatting while others cried, uncontrollably. I didn’t feel anything. It was like I had become a zombie.

On the ride home, the whole world looked different. Everything had changed. I hated myself for what I had done and there was no fixing it. Abortion is forever. Abortion is a death as painful and haunting as any other loss of a child. The sadness of a life unlived and broken dreams of what might have been can be paralyzing for a woman who feels complicit in her own child’s life cut short.

When I arrived at home, I went straight to bed and sobbed myself to sleep. The next morning, I resolved to put the experience behind me and to not shed another tear. I told myself I had to survive. And I did, but only barely.

About a year later I met and married my current husband and the father of my four living children. The next year, we became pregnant and were very happy. But feelings surrounding my first pregnancy began to emerge when people would comment on my obvious condition. “Is this your first baby?” they would innocently ask. “Yes,” I would reply, but deep in my heart, I know it was a lie. I was usually able to go back into survival mode when confronted with these feelings, but I was unprepared for what happened next. Twenty-four weeks into what had seemed to be a normal pregnancy our baby boy was born prematurely, after a four hour labor, and lived for only a few minutes after his birth.

For reasons that I cannot explain, I had chosen the same OBGYN practice for my care. I have read that women who have a history of feeling powerless around authority figures may be more likely to choose a doctor who is authoritative and are less likely to take responsibility for their own health. I suspect that was true in my own case. For example, some women who have had negative experiences with authority figures, such as feeling powerless while a doctor is performing an abortion on her, may react with behaviors which undermine her success in what she really wants and needs. She may manifest physical and emotional symptoms of severe distress and display a need to be rescued. This would seem to shift all of the responsibility to the person in authority. Or she may react in just the opposite fashion with fierce defensiveness and suspicion of the authority figure with a corresponding refusal to cooperate with them. Both represent an inability to relate in a healthy, productive manner with medical caregivers.

During my labor I was very distressed by the pain that I experienced. To me, it felt identical to the pain of the forceful dilation of my cervix during the abortion. So right before my son’s birth, the doctor must have given me a sedative because I have no memory whatsoever of his actual birth. I never saw him alive, although my mother and husband held him as he passed from this life. I was not aware that I had been separated from my baby and family after the birth and awoke in a strange room. A nurse came in and matter-of-factly informed me that my baby had not survived. In my emotional and physical haze, it took me a few hours to realize that my roommate had a living baby. I remember telling myself, “Well, what did you expect? Why would God ever bless you with a baby after what you have done?”

The nurse brought me a birth certificate to fill out, and we were given information on a funeral home to handle our son’s body. I was never able to look at my baby’s body after he had died. I now know that this can be very important to the grieving process, but I was unable to come to terms with feeling responsible for yet another dead baby. I vehemently refused to see him. The next week we buried our son and I slipped into an emotional abyss. For several years, I experienced severe depression, flashbacks of the abortion and the birth/death of my son, strange physical symptoms, substance abuse, self-destructive behavior, and suicidal thoughts. My husband suffered terribly from the loss of the wife he knew and the son he had lost.

Then, through a series of what I believe were miraculous events and divine appointments, some wonderful people came into our lives. They were able to give us some spiritual counsel and led us on a path of hope and healing through a relationship with Jesus Christ. My husband and I experienced the love of God and a caring faith community which nurtured us back to health and wholeness and gave us hope for the future that has radically transformed our lives.

Three years later, I had the courage to try to get pregnant again. I knew I had been forgiven and that God was for me, not against me. I had a very uneventful pregnancy until at 24 weeks, and I began to show signs of premature labor, once again. I was put on bed rest and then the assault on my emotions began.  I started to experience fear and panic, but I knew how to pray. And so by the grace of God, I carried my son for 36 weeks. And then late one evening, my water broke.

When it happened, I was lying on the sofa in my parents’ home, and I knew immediately what it was. I tried to fight the fear that started to overwhelm me. Almost immediately, the contractions began and they felt incredibly painful. Now I understand the reason why I experienced them that way. I believe it was because my body remembered them as sensations that led not to birth and life, but to death and loss. My childbirth education classes never prepared me for this reality. And I was completely unprepared for the terror that I experienced when it was time to push. I fought against my labor instead of surrendering to it, and trusting it. When my doctor (a new one this time) asked me to try and push, I had absolutely no urge to push and when I tried, pushing was indescribably painful. It was like asking a barefooted person to stomp on broken glass.

I was flat on my back with my feet in stirrups and draped, just like in the abortion. I was unmedicated, because I had read Spiritual Midwifery and wanted to believe that the kind of births described in that book could become a reality for me, but I knew I was failing. A part of me must have believed that if my baby left my body, he would most certainly die.

So I fought to keep him in. I remember screaming over and over again as my obstetrician finally cut a third degree episiotomy, which tore even further, and delivered my 5lb 5oz son with forceps. I remember moaning in agony and begging for drugs. So much for my joy-filled birth. But in spite of the pain, I was so thankful that my baby boy was alive and healthy.

For the next several days, I was still in excruciating pain from my perineal laceration and many stitches. It was all I could do to try and put my baby to the breast and just get comfortable in my bed. I experienced the most conflicting emotions during that time. I was euphoric one minute and despondent the next. As I examined every inch of my baby’s body, I was filled with awe. I loved how he looked, how he felt, and the velvety texture of his head against my lips. I was filled with gratitude for him but it was bittersweet because I wondered what it would have been like to hold and nurse my other babies.

I had a very supportive mother and family who helped me recover from his birth and start my journey as a new mother. I went on to give birth three more times, also to premature babies born at roughly 32 weeks each. I chose epidurals for their births because I had yet to be healed of my fear of the sensations of labor and the feelings of failure surrounding my births. There were no doulas in my area, as it was a very new profession in those days. I believe that the support of a knowledgeable childbirth educator and doula would have made a tremendous difference in my birth experiences. They could have helped me work through my feelings and helped me understand why I was having them in the first place.

In my work with post abortive women, I have observed some things that led me to believe that many of them have shared experiences with me which have affected their ability to give birth in a fulfilling way.

Many women have described abortion as “surgical rape”. In an abortion, the cervix is forcibly opened and the woman and her baby are violated in an intimate first encounter with death. Some of the parallels of abortion with obstetrical practices we commonly see in institutional birth settings today are women are prone for birth, their feet placed in stirrups, their legs spread wide and draped, and masked strangers are plunging instruments into their sexual organs. For many women, these things produce feelings that range from mild anxiety to terror and even flashbacks of a previous abortion or sexual assault. Other similar elements include feelings of depersonalization, brought on by separating us from loved ones, taking away our clothes and personal belongings, and feelings of powerlessness which may occur when a physician controls a medical event performed on the woman’s body. The grief and frustration that surrounds an experience where a woman felt mistreated and powerless will often have long lasting effects on her well-being as well as her future pregnancies, births, and experiences of mothering.

Noted author and doula, Penny Simkin has studied similar effects on the birthing process resulting from prior sexual abuse or assault. Women who have experienced feelings of victimization with regard to their sexuality may have a harder time surrendering the normal processes of childbirth. Simkin writes: “The fear of losing control makes some laboring women struggle against their contractions.” She adds, “It is possible that some women, in a conscious or unconscious need to avoid pain or injury to the vagina, have controlled their labor to the point that a cesarean for “failure to progress” became the only solution.

The experience of abortion can also result in what Teresa Burke has termed maternal confusion, elements of which may include:

  • The desperation to become pregnant again with a “replacement” baby, yet feeling unworthy of such a pregnancy
  • Extreme aversion or excessive interest in pregnant women or babies.
  • Jealousy or agitation in the presence of pregnant friends or family.
  • Arrests in maternal development resulting in deeply rooted ambivalence and doubt about one’s mothering abilities, including pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding.
  • Extreme sensitivity to any criticism of her mothering choices.

She writes: “If a woman’s first pregnancy ends in abortion, she may associate later pregnancies with the agitation and buried psychic trauma of the first pregnancy. As a result, the births of later, wanted children can be times of anxiety and depression.”

Another woman put it this way, “When I finally had a baby, I was afraid to touch him, like I might hurt him or something. After I finally dealt with my abortion and allowed myself to grieve the loss, I was able to reclaim my broken maternity. I realize now that I was afraid to get close to my children. I was cold and emotionally withdrawn.”

Another woman described her pregnancy as “horrible”. She continues, “I kept feeling like something bad was going to happen to my baby. After the birth, I suffered major depression. I was in deep grief over my previous abortion. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it made it very hard to bond with my baby. I was a total failure at breastfeeding and comforting her. That was the most painful time in my life. I felt so inadequate. I couldn’t protect her or love her.”

In one survey by the Elliot Institute, nearly one half of the women surveyed stated that their negative feelings of their past abortion became worse when they gave birth to their children. I believe that these unresolved feelings continue to plague many women today and rob them of the joyful confident birth experience that they deserve. I believe that some of the effects of these feelings prevent some women from making informed choices about pregnancy and birth which, tragically, may lead them down paths with destinations that will ultimately traumatize them once again.

As someone who cares passionately about women and the quality of their experiences as mothers, I hope I have given you food for thought. If you can personally relate to any of the things I have articulated, I hope you will seek a place of hope and healing through an abortion recovery program and the care of a perinatal worker who can empathize and support you compassionately.

Please feel free to contact me for more information on recovery opportunities, or to share your story.

Kathryn Berkowitz, CLA,CCE,CPD blueridgediva@gmail.com

Questions to Consider

After your abortion did you:

  1. Did you ever experience the loss of another baby through miscarriage, stillbirth or premature birth?
  2. Did you ever experience the interruption of normal labor, such as feelings of fear or terror with a corresponding inability to give birth normally?
  3. Did you ever have intense fear that your baby would die or have something wrong with them?
  4. Did you ever feel revulsion at the sight of your pregnant body?
  5. Did you have an intense fear of giving birth?
  6. Did you schedule a cesarean to avoid labor and birth?
  7. Do you have a difficult time asserting yourself or your needs during your birth experiences?
  8. Do you tend to take either a very passive OR overly controlling attitude about your care by your obstetrician or midwife?
  9. Did you ever feel that your baby was rejecting you when you had difficulty breastfeeding.
  10. Did you ever experience postpartum depression beyond the normal “baby blues”?
  11. Did you have flashbacks of the abortion during your pregnancy or birth?
  12. Did you suffer from intrusive thoughts or emotions during pregnancy or postpartum?

The Grief of Abortion

July 7th, 2016

As a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I have worked for many years supporting others through the grieving process.  I have viewed this as a ministry over time; one that speaks my language.  One that was launched from an upbringing that brought with it the death of many people I loved.   I was blessed with a wise father who also knew that language of loss.  He knew how to guide me through each chapter and season with an emphasis on my own ability to cope and my simultaneous need to empathize with others.  Nothing, however, prepared me for the complex and unspeakable grief I would experience following my abortion.  And how could it?  There was nothing that acknowledged my self-inflicted depth of anguish and subsequent years of internal heartbreak that followed.  30 years of what the Founder of Rachel’s Vineyard, Theresa Karminski Burke and co-author David Reardon, wrote about in a book titled Forbidden Grief.

Through the stumbling blocks of my traumatic grief and my journey toward healing, I have taken note of the complexities surrounding the individuality of my own grieving process.  I have likened it to an onion.  It seems to emerge in layers over time and through experiential and spiritual growth.  It has been wrought with moments of intense pain and intermittent moments of complete despair.  It has required me to develop a foundation of self-reflection and a belief that I am forgivable.  It has required faith and a depth of courage that is capable of truly reconciling my fear.  It has been nothing like the model of traditional grief as once defined by Kubler-Ross within her original five stages of grief–denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  It was dramatically different and this misunderstood disparity kept me paralyzed for decades.  My journey toward peace in my heart didn’t begin until the emergence of something different and that something was ignited by hope, and from hope; wisdom, and from wisdom; courage, and from courage; compassion, and from compassion; love for others with a burning desire to interrupt the destructive paralysis wherever it exists.  This path pointed in only one direction and that was to embrace God’s love for me and to believe in his mercy.   And so it began…..my healing and path to wholeness that I know will continue as a lifelong journey.

How can I adequately describe the grief that enveloped me?  It was a complicated grief that simmered from the tug of war burning in my soul.  It called out and reminded me that I caused this; that I took the life of my child.  It told me that I was lost and couldn’t be found.  I was stuck and I remained stuck in one isolated moment, constantly wanting to go back to only a few minutes before when the choice was still there.  When I could have walked away….and didn’t.   The tug of war presented itself in ways that confused me.  Initially, I experienced a detachment from any recognition of the gravity of my abortion.  I couldn’t face it and I wouldn’t face it.  I wouldn’t let it in and I ran.  This coincided with a multi-faceted emotional and behavioral reactiveness.  Need I say depression, despair, spiritual paralysis and denial, self-loathing, and an undignified lack of self-respect.  My heart and my soul were broken and I couldn’t bear the pain, but it was there and it didn’t go away no matter how hard I tried.  It took many twists and turns over the years and even looked different at different stages of my life.  It sometimes lay dormant, hidden in silence, only to manifest within my passive disappearance from any situation that scratched the surface.  Only I knew why I left the room or why I couldn’t listen to a conversation or why attending Mass was too painful.  So, I wasn’t there…

This changed one day following a simple prayer to our Blessed Mother.  She opened the floodgates to her son and relentlessly offered me opportunities that would result in a purging of my internal agony.  It was anything but easy, but I followed her.

I followed her guidance into Eucharistic Adoration, which further transformed my life and continues to do so.  I followed her into Rachel’s Vineyard one October evening.  The next three days would peel away even more layers of the onion.  I would tell my story to others who understood.  I would engage in an experiential enlightenment of God’s Holy Scripture.  I would support others who needed me to be there for them.  I cried from the depths of my soul for my child and I gave her a name.  I put my feelings into words and shared them with her and I asked her to forgive me.  I took a magnificent step in learning how to forgive myself and left the complex grief behind me.  I learned to look again, but in a dramatically different way.

Grief following an abortion can last for years, even decades.  It is different because of its devastating nature.  There is hope, forgiveness, mercy, and healing through a deeper understanding of the grieving process and through involvement in programs designed to support the unique grieving process that post-abortive men and women experience.  One of them is Rachel’s Vineyard; yet another is the RESTORE program through Carenet.

I pray this helps you to reach out and find the transformative peace and healing that awaits you.  It is only one prayer away and one phone call away…

My journey continues to lead me, which is why I am Silent No More…

Jennifer
Regional Coordinator for the Silent No More Awareness Campaign

My broken cup

July 6th, 2016

Posted by Béatrice Fedor

Today December 19th is the 13th anniversary of my second abortion. In January, it will be the 20th anniversary of my first abortion. This morning, my two year old son broke my “Mom” coffee cup. It reminds me that abortion broke my mother’s heart all those years ago. Two little shards broke off from the cup, just where I put my lips; a reminder of all the kisses I never gave my two children lost to abortion.

Rest in peace Alicia and Gabriel, you will never be forgotten. Mom loves you and fights the scourge of abortion in your memory now.

My cup has been broken but it is filled with blessings. I am reconciled with God and with myself, I have been married eight years to a wonderful man and last month, I gave birth to our fourth child (I’m nursing her while writing this post).

I don’t want to throw my Mom cup away. It is broken but it wasn’t shattered in a thousand pieces. It is possible to mend it, just like my broken heart was mended. I wish all women who had an abortion (even the hardest, rationalizing Pro-Choicer) could feel that hope, that as long as they are beating, our hearts can be mended and filled anew with the blessings of motherhood.

Abortion: What if We Started to Listen?

July 6th, 2016

By Beatrice Fedor

I came out of the abortion closet in 2008 and I sometimes deal with religious Pro-Lifers who consider that I have committed the unforgivable sin and who lecture me about the past (you were selfish, you should have kept your legs closed etc…).

I also deal with secular Pro-Choicers telling me I’m Pro-Life because I’m a “religious fanatic who wants to take away women’s rights and control their bodies.”

-Twitter conversation about reaching out to women who had an abortion:

Me: “Women need hope and healing after abortion #RachelsVineyardRetreat“.

Pro-Life user: “They need not to have abortions to begin with. Try abstinence“

Me: “I can’t go back in time and undo the past. I can learn from my mistakes and help others.”

Pro-Life user: “That’s not a mistake, that’s a choice. Sorry choices have consequences.”

-Secular Pro-Choicer about my support of a Pro-Life bill on Facebook: “You cannot force me to give a kidney to my living child and you cannot force me to bring one to term. I’m not a vessel for your religious commitments. Full stop. I have rights which you cannot take away.”

Same Pro-Choicer, commenting on my essay about the satanic aspects of abortion (in which I indicate that I experienced Satan’s presence as an atheist): “Oh you ARE a fundamentalist who believes in supernatural things… that helps clarify your position.”

Do these people actually listen to women’s stories? Maybe they don’t have time to read and listen because in this age, everything has to go fast and conform to one’s culture and preconceived ideas.

It’s too bad they don’t see the women among us who struggle, who are not “reproductive rights” activists but had an abortion and need to know that they are not alone and that help is available.

Not everybody was raised with Conservative values or high moral standards and no one can change the past. We can only meet people where they are at, both those considering abortion and those who had abortions. Focusing on a person’s sins with a lack of empathy can discourage post-abortive women from seeking help and move them to rationalize their abortion and live in denial.

Jesus forgives and heals. However, there are always dates, sounds, smells and places that may trigger memories and symptoms. Three years ago, I had a mental break down as the 10th anniversary of my second abortion was approaching. The 20th anniversary of my first abortion is coming in January. Honestly, I don’t know how I will feel at that time but I know I have friends who will pray for me.

Abortion doesn’t end when we leave the clinic, it stays with us always and healing is a long process. It’s hard but it’s liberating to not lie to ourselves anymore. Abortion recovery programs help us to remember our abortion with less pain (in the words of a counselor on my Rachel’s Vineyard Retreat), but we can never forget.

As an atheist, I knew that abortion is humiliating, traumatizing, that it benefits immature men who use it against us. I had a conversion to the Catholic faith in recent years, but in the past, I admitted that abortion was evil; only, I was repeating to myself, “it’s a necessary evil,” to justify my abortions and to not completely lose my mind. But now I’m not afraid to say that abortion is an unnecessary evil. I named my aborted children Alicia and Gabriel and I was able to say goodbye and grieve, but nothing could bring them back.

Despite the mean comments and straw man arguments, I will continue to be a Pro-Life advocate because what is important is the pregnant woman who needs information, support and alternatives to abortion. What is important is the post-abortive woman locked in her bathroom right now, crying and considering suicide. What these women need is not condemnation, not somebody defending a political “right to choose”. What they need is hope and love, not judgment and indifference.

Béatrice Fedor is a French woman who used to be Pro-Choice and is now writing a Pro-Life, Pro-Woman blog at http://400wordsforwomen.com/ 

The Supreme Court – Got it Wrong (Again)

June 27th, 2016

 

by Patti Smith – Regional Coordinator for San Diego, CA

The recent Supreme Court decision, Woman’s Whole Health v. Hellerstedt, struck down Texas’ ruling that would have protected women’s health at abortion facilities.

The court agreed with Planned Parenthood and other abortion providers that Texas law would limit access to abortion.  They argue “access” but let’s get real … they just don’t want to lower their profit margins.  Once again the almighty dollar is considered more important than life.  Not only can Planned Parenthood sell baby body parts, but also operate facilities without adhering to the same health codes as outpatient facilities and abortionists won’t have to deal with their “mistakes”.

When will people lift the blindfold and see the truth?  Yes, I am against abortion. I experienced the devastating after-effects.  BUT until Roe v Wade is overturned, there should be laws to protect the health and well-being of women seeking those services – to assure the procedure is safe and that the abortionist has hospital admitting privileges in emergencies.

The pro-choice community should be appalled at the Supreme Court’s decision …. after all, aren’t they the ones claiming to be the protectors of women’s rights?  Hmmmmm.

This is far from over, and I for one will never give up fighting for life…The life of the child and of the mother.

By the way ….

Planned Parenthood’s most popular slogan needs to be changed:

Planned Parenthood: Care, no matter what.  (Unless it is inconvenient or cuts into our profit margin)

 

For more of Patti’s writings, visit her blog.

Fathers Suffer Too

June 2nd, 2016

 

by Patti Smith, Regional Coordinator for San Diego, CA

“Why didn’t you say something? I would have married you, or helped in some way.”  I heard those words upon telling a man I was dating I had an abortion … The words and his tears (yes, he actually cried) still haunt me.

 
You see, in my “dark days” I was quite the partier and with one of my unexpected pregnancies, I had a choice of two fathers.  It’s not something I’m proud of, but sometimes the truth can be ugly.  Even uglier is my informing one of them several months after the procedure … A cruel way to get even for him not wanting to see me anymore.

 
The reason I’m sharing this part of my life, ugliness and all, is because the Silent No More Awareness Campaign dedicates the month of June to fathers who have lost children to abortion.  We have to remember, the aborted child is part of them as well.  The child they too wonder about … What would he/she look like?  What would he/she have become?  They also suffer the grief, and if an integral part of the abortion decision, the same guilt and remorse as the mother.

 
Contrary to who I was back then, the man I was dating had a conscience and a heart of gold … someone caught in the middle of my path of destruction.  Although I made amends to God and my children, I never did with him. I don’t know for a fact he struggled with the abortion for the past forty-plus years, but based on what I hear and read from other post-abortive fathers, he more than likely did.

 
If I were to see him today, I would apologize for the pain I intentionally inflicted out of spite and commend him for his willingness to accept responsibility, even though the child might not have been his (if only I had been so willing).  I pray he was able to find peace and healing and that he has a happy, fulfilling life.

 
If you lost a child through abortion, there is hope and healing.

 

For more of Patti’s writings, visit her blog.

Pain Revisited

May 23rd, 2016

 

By: Patti Smith, Regional Coordinator for San Diego

This weekend I was blessed with the opportunity to facilitate a Rachel’s Hope healing retreat for post-abortive women.

For two and a half days, I witnessed the excruciating emotional suffering abortion inflicts on vulnerable and frightened women.  Thanks to Planned Parenthood and other abortion facilities, these women had the procedure not knowing or being advised of the devastating psychological, spiritual and physical trauma waiting for them years afterwards.  Trauma waiting to attack every aspect of their lives … their self-esteem, self-worth, relationships, faith, employment, parenting, etc.

The process of healing is emotional and  painful but the result is worth it, but as these courageous and injured women started the process, they could not yet feel the love, forgiveness and hope to come from God’s infinite mercy.  While listening to their stories and watching the tears flow down their cheeks, my mind wandered back to the time I too fell victim to the misleading rhetoric.  My heart threatened to break into tiny little pieces but, praise God, through the healing I received, I had the tools to avert a complete melt-down.

As I reflected on the past few days, my commitment to pro-life and the Silent No More Awareness Campaign grew tenfold. (It was already at 100% so watch out!)  Planned Parenthood and their counterparts should  be more than willing to advise their clients of the potential side effects of abortion.  They claim to be the major defender and caring (?) provider of women’s healthcare, after all.  But then, if the truth were known, women would think twice about abortion and clinics would no longer rake in the millions of dollars, forcing them to close their doors (what a wonderful thought) thus saving the lives of our precious unborn and the hearts and souls of the mothers and others involved in the abortion decision.

Abortion providers not only profit from the death of an innocent life, but they also take advantage of the frightened, the poor, the coerced, the vulnerable and the misinformed.  They must be stopped.

“America, your very future as a nation depends on your
willingness to protect the Right to Life of the
 most of the most defenseless in your society.” –Pope John Paul II

For more of Patti’s writings, visit her blog.