I was fourteen when I was forced to have an abortion. Childhood molestation made me an easy target for a 25 year old pedophile. Away from home lost and confused, he took me in.
It wasn’t long before I was pregnant. I remember feelings of joy when I read the pregnancy test. My joy was crushed however when he delivered the piercing blow to my heart that there was no way I was going to keep the baby. Killing my baby was never a part of my thought process, or an option to my inner soul. I thought about running to my parents. It just wasn’t an option, or so I thought.
Next thing I knew, we were driving to the clinic it was the longest and loneliest drive of my life. I knew what was about to happen. The fear that overcame me was paralyzing. Walking into the waiting room was like hitting a brick wall . The fear, sadness and hopelessness filled every inch of the room through the eyes of the other girls. It was utterly gut wrenching. I didn’t want to be there I didn’t want an abortion. As I sat down the fierce spiritual battle within me, intensified. Voices, one after another, bombarding my very soul. One voice was saying, "Elvia don’t do this please! There going to kill your baby." And another, “What choice do you have, you can’t go home!"
This battle went on and on. And at its climax I felt my heart was about to pound right out of my chest. I couldn’t take it any longer and ran out of that clinic only to have this man run me down slam against a store window and beat me. It was a valiant attempt to save my baby, but to no avail this man managed to drag me back to the clinic two days later. I didn’t dare run again.
This time I sat in the waiting room trying to convince myself of all the typical propaganda like it was just a clump of cells and I have the right to choose, trying so hard to convince myself that this was what I wanted. I certainly didn’t want to be beaten again and left on the streets.
They called me into a room to talk to the nurse. There was no one there to protect me. Never did she ask how old the father was or if this is what I wanted to do. I remember thinking, what’s wrong with this lady can’t she see I need help! She tried to assure me that it was a simple procedure and that it wouldn’t take long. I was then escorted to the killing room.
Given a gown and placed on a cold steel table. The doctor walked in and went right to work. I felt worthless to him. He treated me like a piece of meat! Just one of many in the slaughter line. I tried my best to hold it together; however it just wasn’t going to work. So I pulled myself out of my body and convinced myself this isn’t happening to me. I watched from outside of myself. It wasn’t the physical pain I was afraid of, it was killing my baby.
Nothing could help numb the painful emptiness I felt when they finished. I was instantly filled with shame, worthlessness and self-hate. I felt I was torn away from God, I wasn’t worthy of anything let alone his forgiving love. That was the beginning of the end for me. I turned to a life of drugs alcohol and men. Desperately trying to fill the hole of despair in my heart. I went from pot to crack from rehab to rubber rooms and electric shock treatments. And with many lives hurt along my path of self-destruction I tried to kill myself several times.
It took me years to overcome all of the demons created on that day. After two failed marriages and the loss of two beautiful girls due to divorce. I finally met my husband, John. He stood by me through some really tough times, but we made it through. I have experienced healing by coming back to God and His Church, and forgiving my abusers. I have been active in the pro-life mission through my involvement in the Gabriel Project. And have attended a Rachel’s Vineyard retreat where I experienced an even greater sense of peace and healing.
And with the hope that I may help someone chose morning sickness and not the sickness of mourning I will continue to be SILENT NO MORE!