Hiding inside myself

  Ynette
Virginia,  United States
 
 

If he were alive today, my son would be about four years old. 

On October 4th, 2006 I had an abortion.  I had an abortion because I got pregnant by this guy I didn’t even like while I was taking a semester off from college.  I decided that it would be much easier to have an abortion than to have a baby.  I thought I wouldn’t be able to finish school and I would be the embarrassment of my family.  I had always been a goodie two shoes, so worried about what others thought of me.  I couldn’t imagine telling my family that I was pregnant; I thought they would be so ashamed of me.  So, after thinking about it for a few days, I decided that I was going to be selfish and live my life for me.

 I still remember the day.  I was living in Maryland and I drove down to Baltimore by myself.  I went to a “women’s health clinic,” checked myself in, and waited for them to call my name.  I went to speak with a counselor, who asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this.  I told her yes.  Then she asked me if I had come by myself and if I had anybody there with me.  I broke down in tears.  I had no one.  After waiting for me to get myself together she took me to pay my bill, and of course my insurance paid for it.  They took me to a room and gave me two pills in my hand.  The doctor told me that the pills would induce a miscarriage and that once I started taking them I could not stop.  I took one in the office and the other I could take at home, a few hours from then.  After taking the first pill they released me.


I came out and it was like nothing had happened.  By the time I got home, waited, read my instructions, waited, and read the instructions a few more times, enough time had passed for me to take the next pill.  I took it and went to sleep.  I woke up in excruciating pain; it was like cramps, but the worst feeling I had ever had.  I laid there for a moment, so thrown off by the pain that I forgot what was even going on.  When I remembered what I had done, I ran to the bathroom and stayed there for the next three hours while I miscarried.  I sat there, crying and in pain, passing my baby, trying not to make too much noise because I didn’t want my aunt to get suspicious.  Once it was all over I wanted to die.  Blood and tissue were everywhere.  I looked in the toilet and all I could think is ‘those are pieces of my baby.’

I did make it back college, but I was haunted by everything I had done in Maryland.  I struggled to overcome the grief, shame, and condemnation I felt for years.  I felt could not trust anybody and I did not believe that anyone could really love me, especially if they knew what I had done.  So I didn’t talk about it.  My emotions were all over the place.  One minute I was happy, the next I was angry and then I would be a sobbing puddle of tears.  And no one really knew why.

I went even more inside of myself because I felt like no one understood me.  If they only knew what I struggled with everyday they would understand.  But if I told them the truth, I wouldn’t be able to live inside the lie I created for myself.  For a time, I would rather have them think I was crazy than know that I was a murderer.

I became even more an alcoholic, I smoked weed more than I had ever before.  I did all sorts of stupid things with stupid people, but God was still keeping my life.

As I came into a relationship with God, I still could not accept His forgiveness for my sins because I never forgave myself.  I was still haunted and tortured by my abortion, thinking about the little boy, the precious gift from God that I had thrown away.

As I grew more in my relationship with God, I began to see his heart on abortion and the bigger picture of what it was doing to babies and families all over this nation.  When I was going through my abortion, I felt like I was one person and that no one else was doing this.  But as God opened my eyes, I realized that over 50 million people have been killed and no one sees it because everyone is too busy sweeping it under the rug.

There is a pain so deep, so profound, that comes from losing a child-a pain that only intensifies when it is by your own hands.  My leadership has been there to pray for me and to help me through the grieving process.  I am still healing because God takes away more of the pain everyday.  As I have begun to share my testimony, I have found that God has been taking away some of heaviness from my heart.  Soon, I am planning to go through a post-abortive healing program so that I can be trained on how to help women and families that have been in my situation find healing.

I want to be a testimony to other women that, yes, abortions cause pain, but God can heal, forgive and restore us, and what the devil meant for evil to destroy our lives, God can use for His good.

   
   
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