Twenty-seven years ago, I had an abortion.  I was nineteen at the time.  I realized that whatever choice I made, to bear and rear a child or to undergo an abortion it would impact my entire life.  By choosing the latter at least I felt I would remain free and independent.

I think my age had a lot to do with opting for abortion.  I wasn’t sure of what to expect as a young adult; I didn’t know where the appropriate boundaries were and in trying to find my way, I experienced lots of difficulties.  I had no sense of personal responsibility and little self esteem. My idea of living was to be promiscuous; I saw myself as a sexual revolutionary.  Sex was a tool by which I could control men and it gave me a sense of superiority over them.  I noticed that the connection between equality and sexuality is seldom mentioned and I think that remains a problem between the sexes. Abortion is a woman’s fate and the man, he often doesn’t even know that it’s taken place.

When I was nineteen, I fell in love with a young man.  We were both very young and when I became pregnant I decided on an abortion.  My friend‘s mother who disapproved of our relationship had no problem in accepting this decision. Initially, I thought that I might be able to keep the child if I had his support.  However, he was only seventeen and his mother was the one who actually determined the outcome.

It is true that my parents offered to take care of the child but I refused.  Psychologically I wanted to take some sort of revenge.  Even though, I loved my parents and still do, I felt they had betrayed God. Both were Catholics, but no longer practicing their faith.  They raised me and my brother in a very permissive environment.

As for doctors, who should have explained the health risks of abortion, I received no help at all. I couldn’t expect anything from those who supported abortion.  Anyway, I was critical of the hypocrisy of socialism and wouldn’t have taken advice from doctor.  Maybe, if I had met someone whom I respected there might have been a different outcome.  As it was, I saw my own attitude towards sex mirrored in the hypocrisy of society around me.

I suffered with terrible anxiety and loneliness after the abortion, although I didn’t attribute the cause to the abortion.  I wanted to see my friend, but his mother refused to allow it.  I felt miserable, down in the dumps. I wanted to put my life in order but nothing seemed to come of it. Because I was unhappy I began to question God’s existence.  Rationally, I started to justify God’s existence.  I would give God a chance to convince me of his omnipotence.  I didn’t actually believe anything would come of it.  However, a decade later, during my first holy confession when I admitted that I’d terminated the life of my child and asked for his forgiveness I felt the genuine and loving arms of God embrace me.  Thus began my healing.

I understand that abortion is a terrible, fatal mistake, an evil perpetrated by man. God eventually gave me self-esteem and understanding sufficient to turn my sin into a blessing. The blessing lies in the fact that I now have compassion for women who are faced with the choice of abortion as I was and my deep concern rests as well with the life of the unborn child. I see my mission as one that attempts to rectify the damage done to the innocent and defenseless child in the name of “freedom” and to help those women who must bear the burden of murdering their own child.  It would be appropriate to say as I learned after many years, that my friend also bore the brunt of blame as I did and eventually he was baptized and accepted into the Catholic faith.