Good Afternoon. My name is Michelle. I became pregnant when I was 21 years old. I did not want to have an abortion. I was terrified and didn't have a clue how I could go through a pregnancy and have a baby. I was struggling financially. I worked several jobs with the elderly and also waitressed. My car had broken down.  The father of this child turned out not to be in life where I thought he was. I was so ashamed.

I only told my roommate who told me this was just a bunch of cells, to stop crying, and our condo was not going to be turned into a nursery.  She told me to call Planned Parenthood. Not knowing anything else, I called.  I called several times over the next several weeks. Every time I called, I hoped to get someone who could tell me somewhere to call to help me keep my baby.  They would just tell me I was on my own. I asked if I could have a sonogram because I felt I was pregnant for longer than what they said by the information I gave them.  They always said a sonogram was not possible and just to come in for my scheduled appointment. They'd always listen to my story, and then reassure me that my pregnancy was just a bunch of cells, that this just wasn't my time and I would be back to normal life after this was all over...  and to remember to bring cash.

I called an adoption agency. They didn't seem to be interested in helping me during my pregnancy or care how I felt about giving up my baby. They told me to call when I had the baby and they would come to pick up the baby. I saw the Hopeline ad on the side of a bus. The ad looked to me like an ashamed girl with her back turned.  "Hopeline" meant as much to me as "Planned Parenthood".  My parents were across the country and pro-choice.

The night before I was scheduled to have an abortion, the father came to me. I hadn't heard from him in weeks and I lashed out at him. I hope he has forgiven me.

My roommate brought me in that day. She buried my face in her shoulder to "protect" me from the pictures and the people crying out as we passed.  I wondered if someone in that crowd could help me.

Inside Planned Parenthood, I was guided through paperwork to sign off on that I knew what I was doing. I was in a state of shock as I numbly signed whatever paper they put in front of me. When I was brought in the room, they exposed my stomach and put gel on it. I asked what they were doing. The doctor said she needed to see.  Then I saw a little black and white figure moving on a screen across the room. Something went through me like a wave. I asked the doctor what that was and she said it was nothing. She saw my face and quickly moved between me and the screen. Then she stopped and said that I didn't have to do this. I desperately told my situation and that I didn't want to, but didn't know what else to do. I said I felt like I was on a roller coaster and I wanted off. She looked at me, shrugged her shoulders and said, "Fine.”  Next thing I knew, a mask was over my face and I was thinking I was trying to say that getting off the roller coaster didn't mean I wanted an abortion.  Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a room full of girls crying. The girl next to me tearfully reached out to hold my hand.  I was crying, too. I took her hand, but I hated her and I hated myself.

Life did pretty much return to normal except for the core of my heart that had died with along with my baby.  The full impact of what I'd done came when I became pregnant with my now almost 10-year-old.  When I saw her sonogram picture at eight weeks, I knew that the baby I'd aborted was much more developed than the eight-week-week old I was looking at.  I never forgot that split second image of my aborted baby bouncing around that black and white screen across the room. In those weeks I had heard the voice and felt the presence of my child. That was my baby... who had a soul and was formed by the hand of God in His image with plans and a future already designed by Him. It turns out my husband had had the notion that he would marry a woman with a child. That was God. He already had it all worked out. We would have been a family with five children; one older and four younger.

I am so grateful to Jesus for bringing me on this Holy Spirit journey of love and forgiveness, especially during this past year and a half since He has called me to speak.  It is because of Him pouring His Everlasting Life into the part of my heart that died that day that I am able to be Silent No More. I pray my testimony will be a witness to choosing Life and the truth that the Lord loves and knows the born and the unborn and that He cares for each. 

Thank you.