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Testimonies
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Working up from Ruins
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Mary
Florida,
United States
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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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