It was 1973 it was spring of my senior in college. I was getting ready to graduate as a teacher in Deaf Education. Suddenly, I found myself pregnant with a young man I had been going with on and off for about two years. I knew I could not tell my parents as my father had said” if you ever get pregnant do not come home!.”

I loved my family and did not want to bring shame to them. I grew up Catholic with an Italian father and my Irish mother that I truly loved. I knew my father would kick me out of the house if he found out I was pregnant. So, I looked for solutions on campus. I spoke to the priest who was young and inexperienced and really had no solutions for me. The only other option was Planned Parenthood. Since I was in Illinois, abortion was still illegal, so I flew to New York to have my abortion by myself. I was picked up by an elderly man at the airport and driven to a dark, dismal building. Inside women were lined up along the wall on gurneys. I waited my turn. I honestly don’t remember much of anything about the procedure or the people. Other than, no one seemed very pleasant. I was taken to the hallway after the procedure. When I was ready, I was driven back to the airport, and I flew home by myself back to Illinois. I was immediately filled with regret and shame. This would be pregnancy would bring so much shame to my family, but an abortion would be unthinkable. Shame. I buried that shame. deep in my soul for many, many years. I promised our Lord I would never do that again.

Yet, two years later, I found myself pregnant again. This time it was an acquaintance. He wanted nothing to do with me when he found out I was pregnant. Still, I could not tell my family as it would bring too much shame and possibly isolation.… So, I thought! I was living in Illinois but wanted to go out of town for the procedure so I went to Madison, Wisconsin. Again, I drove myself 90 minutes away. I remember it as a clinic. It was a bit more professional. I was escorted in, put on the table. And I remember gasping for my breath and sitting up during the procedure. And the doctor just yelling “push her down.” There is no concern for my well-being or emotional state. I truly believe I was having a panic attack on the table, but they just continued with the procedure. I was escorted into another room and when I was ready, I drove myself home. I don’t know how I did it, but I did. Again, I told no one with the exception of two friends. For the next 40 years, I pretty much buried it. I acted as though Nothing happened. 

Two years later, I met my husband and was married within a year and we had two beautiful daughters. I was always fearful that our Lord would take those daughters away from me as a punishment for my two abortions. Instead, he blessed me abundantly. We now have four beautiful grandchildren.

In 1989 I became very sick with mono and incapacitated for many months. Immediately after that, I fractured a bone in my foot and went through three different cast for three months. It still would not heal, and the doctor mentioned surgery is the next option. I didn’t think I could handle that after being down for almost a year. It was during that time I read about our Lady of Medjugorje appearing to 4 children in Yugoslavia. Her message was to pray the rosary, join a prayer group and go to mass. I did all of those things and hopes that my foot would be healed. Through my prayer group I heard about a healing mass that was being held in a nearby town. Even though I had never gone to one before, I was ready to try anything to be healed. That night after mass, a prayer team prayed over me. I was laying in the spirit. I felt tingling go all through my body and my feet were on fire. When I sat up, I realized I had no pain but more importantly I thought “oh dear Lord, you truly do love me.” I could not love myself, but our Lord could love me through my shameful behavior. That was the start of a long journey of healing. 

Two weeks later I was awakened in my sleep by a voice in my soul that said, “tell them of my mercy. “I knew that voice was from our Lord. And I knew that was not just for me, but for other women. It still took me many years to speak about my abortions to anyone. The shame was just so great. My fear was people would no longer want me as a friend. 

I finally was able to confess one abortion 17 years after the fact. It would take another 35 years to confess the fact that I had had two abortions.

Finally, I made a Rachels Vineyard Retreat two years ago at the age of 71… 49 years after the abortion! What a gift Rachels Vineyard is! I truly felt the healing love and acceptance of our Lord. I felt the forgiveness from my children, and the companionship of other women who understood the pain of abortion.

Children are victims in abortion, but women and men are also victims.

I have been volunteering for the past seven years at a pro-life crisis pregnancy center. The director asked me to tell my story at the National Day of Remembrance for Aborted Children. I thought about it for a while and knew it was time. Our Lord had said, “Tell them of my mercy” and I needed to do that. Not only was I going to tell my story to many strangers, but I also had to tell my husband and two daughters about the abortions. My husband was wonderful and so understanding. My daughters who are now 45 and 43 weren’t quite sure what to think of me. I had told them that I had an abortion when they were teenagers. I was hoping it would prevent them from having that happen to them. They said they didn’t remember me telling them, so I think they were shocked. They did come and hear me speak and were supportive in that sense. My husband was there also and many friends who I have been able to tell over the years. But no one had known that I had had two abortions.

It was very free to be able to tell the truth, but most of all to tell people of the mercy of God and his forgiveness. I am so grateful to the priest, Rachels Vineyard and my friends that have supported me through this time. Since then, I’ve been asked to speak at another National Day of Remembrance and the opening ceremony of 40 Days for Life. I felt so blessed, one woman from one of my talks came to Rachels Vineyard  after hearing my story. She had never heard of Rachel Vineyard or nor did she know anyone who had had two abortions. 

God is so good. My prayer is to tell woman of God‘s mercy for them through my story. It is so strange after 50 years of hiding my story and not wanting to tell anybody. Now I want to tell my story to let women know of the healing power of our Lord.

Thank you for providing this platform for women. I pray you can use my story to help others.

Thank you, and God bless

Mary