God's Work

  Robin
Indiana,  United States
 
  Much of my life, prior to meeting our Lord, Jesus, was distortion.  Growing up in a non-Christian home, with very little parental supervision, caused me to have a lack moral understanding. I was rejected by my peers because of my physical appearance and lack of self-confidence. Taking the lead from my parents, I learned to escape to alcohol at a very young age. I distinguished my identity based on a distorted view of sexuality, rather than on who God created me to be.  Confusing unfiltered adult entertainment with reality, my self-esteem was crumbling. My destructive sexual lifestyle choices began at age 13 but, somehow, I avoided pregnancy until I was a sophomore in college.  Nevertheless, the 30 years that followed would include six pregnancies.

I chose to follow through with an abortion, being completely deceived by collegiate influences about the truth of human development. It was paid for by a beloved great aunt, who I later concluded had experienced a botched backstreet abortion that left her barren.  I believe she was trying to protect me from what she had experienced. This would be my first of three. The thought never crossed my mind that there was a tiny life growing inside me, and the clinic employees never referred to my child as a baby.  I have vague details of the actual procedure, but I remember being anxious to get back to life. Over the next couple years, I developed depression that was only exaggerated by my alcohol consumption. I would soon after become pregnant again and have a miscarriage.

About two years later, I became once pregnant again.  Even though I knew the father was unreliable and unfaithful and although I was feeling hurting and empty, I chose to keep my baby. My daughter was born after a very difficult pregnancy with life-threatening complications. Unfortunately, the hole remained unfilled and the depression got worse, so I went back to my accustomed lifestyle.  I unwittingly rejected innate motherly instincts, insisting that I had to work two jobs, and I left my daughter with my sisters most of the time. The prescribed antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications only made matters worse, which led me to attempt suicide multiple times.

Nights out after work resulted in many more short-lived, sexually driven relationships. Once again, I found myself pregnant. Remembering the medical complications of my first pregnancy, I questioned the doctor about the safety of having another child. She immediately referred me for an abortion. This time, my mother accompanied me into a dark clinic, tucked away in a hospital basement.  Purposefully numbing myself with extra anti-anxiety medication made the experience surreal, and I have little memory after pushing the “B” button in elevator. 

I became pregnant once again, my fifth pregnancy, with a man to whom I was engaged. He had become addicted to crack cocaine and it caused me to question if his drug use would physically affect the fetus.  Without informing him, I called the abortion clinic, and they advised that I come immediately. The nurse would not let me see the ultrasound screen, telling me that the child was “not going to be right” and that I needed to take care of this “problem” right away. I decided to wait and discuss it with my fiancé. Being extremely ill over the next several weeks (which I realize now was only morning sickness and anxiety) coupled with the clinic’s repeated follow-up calls caused me to become anxious about my physical well-being. They ultimately convinced me to abort my child well into the second trimester.  My fiancé accompanied me to the clinic, but while I was killing our child, he left me there to walk home alone. Cleaning out my bank account, he proceeded to get high with my money. I didn’t see him for days, ending our relationship.

Later, I met my future husband, getting married a couple weeks before the delivery of our beautiful, healthy son. I had absolutely no complications with this pregnancy, despite my doctor’s insistence that my pregnancy would be dangerous.  A few months later, my husband left me because of the amount of weight I had gained during my pregnancy.  Shortly after we filed for divorce, in February of 1999, I accepted Jesus as my Lord. 

God released me from my full-time job, where I was tempted by alcohol and placed in sexually enticing situations. Shortly after, I went to work for a local pregnancy center. This was completely ordained by God, because it put me in the position to receive the healing, facilitated by post-abortive Bible study and fellowship with other post-abortive women, that I so desperately needed. After appropriately morning the loss of my unborn children, I was then able to be the mother I was designed to be, to the children God had entrusted to me. I was almost immediately delivered from the prescription medication, alcohol, and sexual addictions.

Eventually, sidewalk and intervention center counseling became a part of my job and ignited my passion. I was blessed to see God’s work first hand; precious babies being snatched from the hands of the same abortionist that I had allowed to take the lives of two of my children. I also began leading post-abortive Bible studies and counseling post-abortive women, helping them receive forgiveness and healing as I had.  As I began to compare women’s stories with mine, by the power of the Holy Spirit, I started to understand the coercion of pro-abortion medical providers and the abortion industry.  I was blessed to hold the precious baby of a “healthy” woman who was sternly told, by this same abortion clinic, that if she didn’t abort she would not live through the pregnancy.  And all of this is why I cannot help but be…. Silent No More!
   
   
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