I Know I Will See You Again

  Savannah
Wyoming,  United States
 
  I had just turned 14, and I was "dating" a guy who was 16.  We really liked each other and decided we would not see anyone else until we figured out if it was worth trying to be together. About a month after my 14th birthday, we decided to have sex.  He's a teenage boy, and I think my mom figured she had a few more years before she needed to give me the sex talk, so we never really talked about it; basically all I was told was, “Don't do it.” 

 So, about four months into dating and having sex I found out I was pregnant.  My mom took me to Planned Parenthood just to make sure, I guess. She and my sister waited in the waiting room while I went to take the test and talk with an elderly woman about my "choices.”     

When she returned with my results she sat down and just looked at me, I looked at her and said, "I'm pregnant, huh?" She said, “Yes, what are you planning to do now?"  I remember just sobbing and shaking.  I had no idea what a fourteen year old would do with a baby. I don't even remember any other options being talked about, only that Ft. Collins does abortions and with my small frame it was the best option, for "safety reasons..."  

The next day I called and made my own appointment.  I think my mom's guilt wouldn't let her be involved. I got all the info I needed and, a few days later, we were heading to Colorado. 

The second I arrived all I wanted to do was escape.  Everywhere I turned there was another woman, waiting to kill her baby too.  I was the only "child" in the entire clinic.  After the paper work was done I was given a muscle relaxer, and I remember feeling drunk.  My mom had to walk me up and down the stairs.  I met with a counselor who asked me if it was my idea to get the abortion and not my parent’s.  She asked if I needed excused from school and PE class.  She told me it was not a big procedure and I'd "just have some bleeding."

The next woman who I met was in her early 30's.  She had a sweet face and painted nails.  I decided I liked her and would use her as my focus.  She took me to the bathroom to pee before the ultrasound.  I lay on the bed and she took a couple pictures. She said I was two months and four days then threw the pictures into the garbage right next to me.  I wanted to jump off the bed and run but I didn't, I just laid there.
The next room we entered was a single bed in the middle of the room.  I saw for the first time those stupid stirrups (I wasn't even old enough for a pap smear yet) and knew this was the real deal.  I don't remember anything in that room but the pain, the nurse with painted nails who I chose to focus on, and the emptiness I felt. Why did I have an abortion? At that point, I had no idea.

I can't recall anything for the next few days, only blood and sadness.  I was on pain killers and wished they would last forever. That was about the time I experienced extreme anger, at everyone, all the time.  I was depressed--cutting and anorexia were how I dealt with that.  I drank, smoked pot often, listened to songs that reminded me to hate.  I was a mess.  I did not care if I lived or died.  My heart was numb.  This lasted for YEARS!

At 17 the baby's father and I broke up for good.  I decided it was too hard trying to love someone who reminded me of tragedy.  Later that year I started to date my now husband.

We dated for a couple years before we got married.  We dabbled in church but never really committed until I got pregnant at 20.  A pastor prayed over my unborn baby, and she went wild in the womb.  He prayed for me, and I asked Jesus to come into my heart that day.  He came in like a flood.  Giving me dreams and telling me things I could have never imagined. He opened my heart and let me feel loved again. 

I had a few hiccups along the way—trust issues, anxiety, addictions, longing to be loved in whatever way I saw fit.  It was unrealistic and I'm so very grateful for my wonderful husband who has stuck by me through all the ugliness.

Now I'm 26, a wife, a mother of two incredible kids, an over comer, a follower of Jesus Christ and am on my way to healing from a very tragic, destructive past.  Just recently I have been able to forgive myself for my abortion.  I write letters to my daughter, Jasmine, and know that I will see her again. After twelve years of shame, guilt and silence, (Thank you Jesus that you took shame to the cross with you.) I refuse to let my child's suffering be in vain, and THAT, is why I am silent no more.         
   
   
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