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Testimonies
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Reaching out to Women like Me
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Susan
Kentucky,
United States
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My name is Susan. I am married, and I have two children, one boy and one girl from a previous relationship, and one step-daughter. I am also a twice-post-abortive woman. I have prayed that God will help use my testimony to help someone.
I grew up in a Christian home. I went to a private, Christian school. The stories of God and Jesus were all around me my whole life, but as a child, even though we know what church is, who God is, we somehow don't quite "get it" until later. At age 10, one Sunday I was sitting in one of the last pews in the back of my church by myself. My mother had been sick recently, and my parents had stopped going to church on Sunday mornings to our usual church in J-town, and instead had me ride with our neighbors to their church. Their kids went to the same Christian school that I did, and this was the church connected with that school. So, even though I was there alone, I still knew some people. This one particular Sunday, while the benediction played, that "tug on your heart" that they tell you about when Jesus is calling you, happened to me. And it terrified me. I had this overwhelming feeling that I needed to walk to the front of the church and tell the pastor that I wanted to give my life to Christ. It's funny that this feeling came over me because I distinctly remember not really paying attention in church that day. I tend to be a people watcher, so I was just looking around, thinking to myself, etc. But at the time of the benediction, this feeling was so strong, and I heard that still, small voice, (which wasn't so small or quiet) say to me, "C'mon, kid. You're going to need me." Plain as day. THAT terrified me. I was too nervous to walk to the front, so right there in the pew, I prayed the sinner’s prayer and gave my life to God.
The next Sunday my mom was well enough to come to church, so she and my dad were able to see me walk to the front and make my profession of faith in front of the church. So I was saved and didn't know what to do with that. A few months later, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. A year and half later, four days before my 12th birthday, my mother passed away. Six months after that, my father passed away from a stroke. And, in my head, I went back to that voice, "C'mon kid. You're going to need me." And I did need Him.
I went to live with my aunt and uncle (my mom's sister and her husband). She was to look after me, and raise me until the age of 18, when I would receive my inheritance from my parents and move out on my own for the rest of my life. During this time, my aunt and uncle divorced, and I was this all over the place adolescent, not a terrible kid, but not perfect either. I had regular friends like any teen, I had a boyfriend, I went to church and was involved heavily in my youth group. At 15 I became sexually active. I mention this because I want people to understand that 18 years ago I was a youth involved in church on Sundays, and me, like several of my friends in youth group, were sexually active during the week, so it's out there. Churched teens can be sexually active and need to hear what can happen if abortion is chosen. That was 18 years ago. Imagine how much more prevalent that is now in our society.
I made it to 17 and graduated, hopelessly in love with my current boyfriend. At 18, I bought a house, a car, paid for my schooling--I was set. Perfect life, no worries. I became engaged to this boyfriend, moved him in, and began a life. That was in September of '97. In December of '97 I discovered I was pregnant. At this time I was about 10 weeks along in my pregnancy. I remember being so excited. Since my parents died when I was little, I wanted nothing more than to grow up, get married, have children, and finally feel like I belonged somewhere again, with my own family. And I had the means, the money to take care of a child at the time.
While I was happy, my boyfriend looked like a deer in headlights. He freaked out. We lived in Shepherdsville, KY at the time, and his parents lived 10 minutes down the road. It was late at night when I told him, and we talked a bit, but he insisted we drive to his parents’ house and tell them that same night.
I was a little worried that they may say something to us about having a child without being married first, but I knew they would be happy and be good grandparents. I sat on their couch, and they asked, "Why did you want to come over so late?" I opened my mouth to give them the good news, and, before I could speak, I heard my fiancé' burst out in tears, SOBBING, "Susan's pregnant!" He had his hand over his face as he slumped down into their armchair, inconsolable, like he was preparing for the worst. And then I thought to myself, "Oh my goodness! Why is he acting this way?" I never stopped to think that he would be terrified. I never stopped to think that he didn't want children at all. (Another good point for teaching our teens or anyone while selecting a life mate. You should know where they stand on having a family. Know your spouse.) His parents were calm and gracious, and said, "Whatever happens, we will support you."
Back at our home that night and the next night, there was an awful, lingering heaviness, tension in the air. We sat down to talk about the situation, just he and I, and it was politely suggested that I have an abortion. I was raised that abortion was wrong, and I was quick to state that I would never do such a thing! He left to go somewhere, I forget, and while he was gone, I packed a bag and decided to flee to my cousin's house for support. It's funny how you can go back in your mind and think about something like this, and remember all these little details. I remember driving the windy country backroads between Shepherdsville and Brandenburg area where my cousin lived, frantic, crying, praying, holding my belly, telling my unborn child, "Don't worry, baby, Mommy will protect you." That statement haunts me, even today. It was just me and my baby in my car, and I was lying to my child, and didn't even know it yet.
Later that evening, my fiancé' knew exactly where to find me. He drove to my cousin's home, talked with me, and convinced me to come home. That night seemed promising. The next night we ended up in conversation about how having an abortion would "help our future marriage." We would be "happier,” have "less stress and responsibility"--after all we were teenagers, and we would "have children later on, get married first.” So my thought process began to change. Here I was, 18 years old, whole life ahead of me. I was ready for kids, mentally, emotionally; it's all I wanted since I was little. To be established in life. Belong. Have my own family. Have children young in my life, so that they could grow up with their mom, and not have a childhood like I did." But I thought, "Here's my fiancé'. He is young. We got pregnant the first time we were ever intimate with each other- his FIRST time." I thought, "This is the man I want to marry. The man I will spend the rest of my life with. Maybe I need to take his thoughts and feelings into consideration." So I told him that if this abortion is to happen, that I want nothing to do with scheduling it. He would have to be the one. So he did. And I guess I thought or hoped that he would change his mind before then. But he didn't. And I was a coward. I let someone else influence me, alter my opinions and beliefs that I held so dear, and fell victim to fear, fear that I would miss out on my marriage, fear that I would lose this man. Oh, how stupid I was. So I went.
I went to a place in Downtown Louisville, and it was this really old medical office building. There were several girls and what looked to be their boyfriends in this waiting room. I remember the waiting room being silent. Very deafening silence. I remember sitting across from this blond girl--obviously a high school student. She was wearing some cheerleading jacket, and her boyfriend with her had his varsity football coat on. They looked like they would have been the Barbie and Ken of their school. I remembered being in high school the year before and how I was in the average crowd, and she looked to be in the popular crowd, and that I would never have been friends with someone like her. I don't know why this couple stood out so much to me, but I found myself in an odd situation later on with her.
I remember my name being called, and I was taken to a room and two ladies came in. I was told to put on the hospital gown and lay down on the table. There was an ultrasound machine in the room. They were going to determine how far along I was. They did the ultrasound, and then the ladies got into some discussion about work-related things that I wasn't listening to. But while their attention was off of me and I was lying there, they forgot to turn the screen around, and I looked over, and I saw the baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound monitor. I watched it for a few seconds before the lady realized her mistake and quickly turned the screen around. I was asked by the so-called counselor, "Are you sure you want to do this?" What is any nervous girl who is unsure about everything in her life at the moment going to say? And I nodded my head yes. I didn't really want to be there. I knew it was wrong. I was terrified. I wondered, "What is God thinking of me right now? Can He see this?"
They had me walk to a room which was wall-to-wall hospital stretchers and had me lay down. They gave me something to calm me, but I don't remember what. I remember looking to my right, and there was the cheerleader from the waiting room. We talked for a minute. Her boyfriend wanted her to have the abortion, same as mine. Across from us were a row of procedure chairs, all lined up across the room wall-to-wall like the stretchers, facing us, and that was where the actual abortion procedure took place. No curtains that I remember, it just looked like they were turning them out by the hundreds, like a well-oiled machine.
A nurse walked me over to the table, and they started an IV. I had payed extra to be knocked out with anesthesia. There was no way I wanted to remember this. But unfortunately I would always remember. They started the IV and the doctor took his place at the end of the table and had me scoot down towards him. I started panicking, saying "Wait! I want to be put under! I thought I was going to be put under!" The nurse assured me that I would. The doctor nodded at her to push the medicine. The IV was in my right hand, and I remember this burning sensation traveling up my arm fast. I started to scream out, gasped, and then I was out. No more chances to back out. No more time to change my mind. It was too late. I woke myself up out of anesthesia saying, "God forgive me, God forgive me. God forgive me." The nurse shook me, and I came around slowly. They gave me a pad to wear and walked me to a post-procedure room where they sat me down and gave me juice and cookies. A lot of women feel nauseated right after and lose blood, so they try to bring up the blood sugar. Next to me sat the cheerleader again. And she was crying. The nurses left the room, and it was just me and her. She got sick and ran to the bathroom behind where we were sitting. She fell to her knees at the commode, and I held her hair back for her. And we were both crying. It was an odd moment where it was like we were each other’s only friend in the world. She held my hand for a minute while she tried to compose herself. I often wonder if in her own story if she remembers me like I remember her.
My boyfriend was there to pick me up, and as we walked to the elevator to leave, I became sick and ran to the nearest garbage can. After this experience, I fell into a deep, dark depression.
We got married about 10 months later. But our marriage was awful from the beginning. During this time, I cried all the time. I was miserable. I made him miserable. He was miserable anyway in our relationship. We fought all the time. Then deeper, emotional problems started with me. My husband didn’t want to spend any time with me, he would rarely hug me, rarely kiss me. I began wondering what was so wrong with me? Why didn’t he love me? He would rather spend time with his friends and was hardly home after work.
After some time, we decided we needed a change. Maybe that was the problem. Even though we had everything we could ever need, still something was missing. So we moved to Louisville. I sold my condo, packed it all up and moved closer to his job, closer to mine, closer to my family.
Things were better for a while, but then they went back to the way things were before. He was hardly home and didn’t want to spend any time with me, would rather be with friends. So I made friends at work. One man befriended me, seemed really interested in me, and wanted to see me happy. It didn’t take long, and didn’t take much before I was having an affair with him. This man is now my husband, "K". Our affair lasted for about nine months. He wanted me to leave my marriage, could see how miserable I was, wanted me to tell my husband everything, and move on. During the time of the affair, my husband really didn’t seem to notice, didn’t seem to care.
On Valentine’s Day that year, I discovered I was pregnant. I knew there was absolutely no way this could be my husband’s child. Prior to this, I had broken things off with "K", telling him that what we were doing was wrong and that I wanted to fix my marriage. So out of fear of being caught, to cover my own butt, thinking of myself instead of my child, "K"’s child, I went to my husband, crying, telling him I was pregnant and that I wasn’t ready to be a mom, that I didn’t want this child. I was lying. I did want this child. I just didn’t want to be caught or exposed for having an affair. Given my husband’s previous reaction to pregnancy, I didn’t think he would fight me on the subject. See, I was going to just sweep it all under the rug, ignore what I had done, but I couldn’t ignore this. "K" begged me to have the baby, saying that if I couldn’t raise the child, that he would raise the baby alone. My husband found out about the affair, realized that the baby was not his, and demanded I have the abortion. My family staged an intervention and offered my husband money to leave me so that I wouldn’t have the abortion. I was given a large sum of money after my parent’s passing, and my family believed that my husband was only in our relationship for money, so they tried to come to the aid of the baby, regardless of my stupidity. This is what haunts me the most about this abortion. Because this time, it was MY idea. MY sin, MY mistakes that lead me into this jumbled mess. “For the wages of sin is death”. The death of my own children. By my own hand. Shameful. How could I even THINK of this after how the first abortion tore me up!? I distanced myself even more from God because I didn’t want him to even LOOK upon me. I was a wreck. What a mess I had made.
I made the arrangements for the abortion. All the while, "K" begged me not to. My cousin took me this time, because my husband couldn’t bear to really look at me. He couldn’t raise another man’s child, he couldn’t bear to see me carry the child, but he didn’t want to divorce.
At the clinic, there were both Pro-Life and Pro-Choice protestors blocking the entrance to the building. I remember driving around the block numerous times before finding a place to park. People taunted me. One man said to me, “Hey, I’ve got a coffin for that baby!” Others: “Mommy, please don’t kill me!” I went in, and it was done. I remember how numb I felt. I felt…empty. Those were the worst days of my life.
Eventually, my husband and I divorced. He said he couldn’t take it anymore. I never understood what he meant by that. He was never specific, he never elaborated on what he meant, but he really didn’t have to. I guess I knew. We were miserable. I was miserable. Sometime later, my ex-husband divulged to me that a lot of our problems in our marriage weren’t really me at all—that he was now living a lifestyle where his partner was not a female. I have often wondered what my life would have been like had I known that about him sooner.
After a while, "K" and I tried dating again. I couldn’t handle dating him. I loved him, but he was so ready to be serious, and, after coming out of all THAT, that relationship with my ex-husband, there was just no way. I was terrified of being with "K". He was a good man and made me feel wonderful about myself , but I realize now that that was WHY I couldn’t be with him then—because I didn’t feel wonderful about who I was. After all that I had done—I felt I didn’t deserve happiness. I was messed up emotionally, spiritually.
Soon after, I lost my house—couldn’t keep up financially, started dating a man who was bad for me, had no ambition, and was not a good provider. And I guess I thought I deserved that. I was scared and alone, but at least with him there. I guess I just needed someone to go through it all with me. That was my thought process anyhow. And I became pregnant again—with my son, "B". His father saw me as a ticket out of his poverty, dragging me down with him. I began to have medical complications with the pregnancy and was put on bed-rest. I had quit my job to pursue another one which turned out to be a sales scam but didn’t find out until too late. Now I couldn’t work and "B"’s father wouldn’t hold a job. So my house was gone, we moved to an apartment in the projects where I was absolutely terrified all the time, got evicted twice, and, ultimately, I ended up living in a homeless shelter by myself, pregnant, while he went to stay with family. I was too ashamed to go to mine.
I was able to move out of the shelter after a while, got an apartment, gave birth to my little "B", but was dirt poor. I was pregnant again by "B"'s father before I returned to my doctor for my post-op appointment after giving birth. I couldn’t handle the bills, even with working nights, and had a second child. Their father still couldn’t hold a job. He was not mature enough for a family—his priorities were music, friends, and doing drugs. I couldn’t handle this. I was miserable. How did I get here? We got evicted again, and back to the homeless shelter- again—just me, my son and my daughter. Their father couldn’t “handle” staying with us there. He abandoned us.
In the midst of all this, I was able to arrange child care through government help and go to school. I eventually and FINALLY got away from this man, and lived with my dear cousin for a while outside of Louisville. I got back on my feet, got involved in a wonderful little country church in Perryville, KY, where I worked with children and, after a while, started a single-mom devotional group, sang in the choir, and let God rake me through the mud until He re-worked my life. It was like He had to break me to get me to the point where I would seek Him again. I had to surrender everything I was, everything I had to Him. Because I had nothing else. I had no one else. It was me and my kids. But God started placing encouraging people in my life again to help me see my worth, and see that I was forgiven.
We know that God forgives, but in the midst of our darkest times, we don’t see ourselves as being worthy of forgiveness. We forget John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” That includes all of us. It was so hard for me to see that. It was so hard to acknowledge that God’s love and mercy for us is so strong. That I was worthy, even after all I had done. I kept asking God, “How can You, The Creator of life—love and forgive ME, after I’ve taken life…twice?” We need to remember, that God is always watching us, He is always there, in the midst of our sin, HE doesn’t disappear, WE walk away from Him. In my case, the moment I turned away from God after he had carried me all those years after my parent’s died, that was the time in my life when I walked away from HIM.
When I was in Perryville, KY at my old church, I worked with the single moms—that’s where my passion was. Those women were my confidants, my support system. Still are. Friendships for life were made then. But something was missing. I kept feeling God pushing me toward something more, but I was TERRIFIED. A lady from a pregnancy center came one Sunday to the church to speak about abortion. She was a post-abortive woman, and I knew the whole time that sermon was for ME. But I hid from God on that mission. He called me then for this, and I put him off. However, I knew that one day I wanted to reach out to women like myself and help them find healing from their misery. To help them know that forgiveness and mercy are right there for the taking. That God is WITH THEM. That he STILL LOVES HIS CHILD. We are all CHILDREN OF GOD. He loves us with an unconditional love that never ends, and I want to share that with other women—that’s why I'm silent no more!
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