Working up from Ruins

  Mary
Florida,  United States
 
  It was fall of 1994.  I was the super star volleyball player for the Green Castle Blue Devils in Pennsylvania.  My boyfriend of four years was a sophomore at the University of Maryland.  I was loving life.  (I grew up without my father.  He abandoned his seven children when I was five, so I was a bit of a rebel.)  I was a strong-willed senior, and I thought I ruled the world.

At the beginning of volleyball season in August, I found out I was pregnant. I informed Jason the father, and he immediately said I needed to get rid of it.  He said his parents would make him quit school if he became a father.  He threatened to throw me down the stairs if I didn't get rid of the child.  So, I made an appointment.  He gave me the money, and I drove myself to the clinic.  He stayed in the downstairs apartment from me and partied with some friends.

I remember sitting outside the clinic saying to myself, ''This is wrong. What am I doing?  Don't do this!”  But I was too scared of Jason. I went to the back after they called me and lay on the table.  I remember the sound of the vacuum suction, and the nurse telling me I was doing great. I don't remember much else, except that afterwards I became very sick and threw up.  I lay in the back for a bit, and then they released me.  I drove home, and Jason was half-drunk, asking me if I was okay. “Yeah,” I said.  I died that day.  I didn't know it at the time, but that was the day my life spiraled out of control. I asked for some Chex cereal, and he went to the store for me.  I ate a bowl of Chex and went to bed.  I was so mad that he was in the apartment under me, partying and drinking.

After this, I became depressed and drank a lot. I started cheating on Jason and slept with a couple other guys.  I just didn't care anymore about anything.

I was playing volleyball for Hagerstown Jr. College in 1994 when I became pregnant again.  The second time around seemed a lot easier. Jason, of course, was not there again.  I made the appointment.  The same thing happened all over again. One of my teammates was pregnant at the same time.  She kept her baby; I killed mine. I was twelve weeks along.  I knew I was 12-13 weeks, but I told the doctor I was eight weeks.  The only thing I remember about this abortion is that during the procedure he said, "Oh, you are farther along." The suction was just as loud as before.  I don't remember what happened afterward.

I terminated these children so I could go to college and become something great.  This is what actually happened to me. In the spring of 1995, my grades majorly slipped, and all I wanted to do was drink. I quit volleyball, and I quit school.  I just wanted to drink.  Jason couldn't figure out what was wrong with me, and, at the time, I didn't know either.  I just wanted to die.

I broke up with Jason and moved to Florida to live with my aunt and uncle.  Although I found God, I was still a mess and drank a lot.  I partied every weekend and wanted to just forget the North, the cold weather, and Pennsylvania.

I drank so much I got two DUI's in year and a half. I tried to commit suicide, self-mutilated, had bad boyfriends, suffered anxiety, depression, eating disorders, OCD, ADHD, and my life was in ruins.

I moved to Panama City in 2001 because my life was going nowhere, and I needed a fresh start.  I found God and a great church and got married. My husband is wonderful, and I now have three beautiful children.  After my third child John Paul I just felt something was off. I ended up talking to a priest friend of mine and opened up about my abortions, which I NEVER forgot. He recommended I attend Rachel's Vineyard, which I did. It was life-changing.  I loved that weekend, and it brought me such peace.  That was five years ago.

My husband has recently taken a job in Virginia. All my memories are coming back to me.  Winter is a trigger for me.  Florida doesn't really have a winter.  I also recently attended a clinical training course with Dr. Theresa Burke.  WOW! I felt she was talking to me, and it brought EVERYTHING back up in my mind. I looked at my priest friend next to me and said, "I don't think I have fully healed yet." I had a panic attack the next day. Severe anxiety and all I thought about was the abortions.  Dr. Burke said this might happen, and it did.

I called a Christian therapist and said I think I need to do EMDR therapy. A friend did this and said it was powerful for her. I am set to go to therapy next week. I need to heal before moving to Virginia at the end of August. I hate the North and cold weather, because it reminds me of what I did.  

Please pray for me, friends.  I know God forgives me.  I forgive myself.  My children forgive me, but I have a long way to go. God bless you all for what you do.

In Christ,

Mary
   
   
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