I Can Help You!

My parents were divorced when I was nine months old and my sister was almost two.  Both my dad and my mom got remarried.  Mom was always moving. Of course we had to go with her.  I would never say I had a horrible life, but it wasn't always the most comfortable.  Mom did what she could, and even though we wound up 3,000 miles away, dad did too.  They made sure we knew that both of them loved us, and that none of it was our faults.  Grandma made sure we went to church when we visited. 

Both of my parents divorced a second time.  Mom when I was 4 and dad when I was 11.  I got saved the summer after I turned 13 when we were visiting my grandma.  Nobody showed me how to lead a Christian life, so it didn't take me long to backslide.  My freshman year in H.S., my sister and I both moved back to live with our dad. It was a year later he remarried (again).  My sister left for college, my mom was 3,000 miles away, all I had was my friends and my step mom.  She and I grew very close.  I had even started calling her "mom". 

Valentine's day, just before my 15th birthday, I was raped.  I went out with some friends, drank to much, and passed out.  The rest is a blur but I remember waking up the next morning screaming "NO!" and extremely sore.  I went home to find my step-mom in my room.  She had snooped through some of my stuff and found a letter I had written to my boyfriend.  Through reading this letter, she found out why I had named my dog what I had and commanded me to change it.  Needless to say, in the condition I was already in, I blew up at her.  She still doesn't know the reason why.  I think that was the defining moment of when I began "hating" her.  I lived with them until I graduated, not for lack of threatening to leave, and then moved in with my cousin's ex-wife.

I had plenty of no good boyfriends, of course sex, drugs and alcohol were always involved.  I even planned to marry a few.  I ran into an old friend and we started dating.  A month later, I was pregnant.  He, of course, said it wasn't his because I had sex with someone else the week before we started dating.  So I told my mom, and together, we decided that I would be better off near her.

My grandmother was concerned about how I had shamed her.  My dad and step-mom wanted to take me in and help, but with all of the broken bridges, I couldn't.  So, I packed my bags.  Just before I left, my boyfriend decided that he wanted to stick by me.  Me, being the love sick hopeless romantic that I am I agreed to buy him a ticket so he could go with me.  His flight was a month after mine, so I had plenty of time to spend with my mom, planning the arrival of a baby (I had always vowed I would never murder my own child), and anticipating my boyfriends arrival so we could get a place of our own.

He had been there a week, when we got a place of our own, and everything changed.  He started to degrade me, telling me he could never love MY child. He refused to hold a job and had me beg my family for money so he wouldn't have to work. Along with selling drugs came the verbal abuse (not that degrading me was bad enough). Every now and then he would shove or smack me, or throw me over a couch or into a door.  But every time, he was sorry.

My pre-natal pap-smear came back.  The doctor told me I had a form of cancer.  I was going to loose the baby if I tried to go full term, and the cancer would have spread, by that point, so bad that I would probably need a hysterectomy.  My boyfriend threatened to leave if I chose "another man's child" over him, my mom tried to convince me that it was for the best (she didn't know at this time what I was going through at home).  After all I was only 18, unmarried, uneducated, I had my whole life ahead of me.  I searched my heart and soul for two weeks or so. "I can't!" "It is wrong!" "Is the baby even his?" "What if they loose both of us?" All these thoughts went through my head.

I decided after MUCH persuasion that the fact that they KNEW the baby wouldn't make it, and that I may never be able to have kids again, and I didn't want to leave my parents childless and grandchildless, that there was only one thing to do.  I went ahead and had the abortion.

They used the vacuum aspiration procedure(I don't care if it is suppose to be capitalized, anything that had to do with what happen to my child that day does not deserve to be glorified).  In short, they sucked my baby out of my womb into a jar, piece by piece.  Then they looked at it to make sure everything was accounted for.  I don't remember pain.  All I remember is a joke my mother told to keep my mind off of the horrid event, and the terrible agonizing emptiness in my heart.  I cried for two weeks, straight.  Not boo-hooing every once in a while, but a solid flow of tears, constantly. 

My boyfriend decided to move back home, and me being the idiot that I am, went with him.  The abuse got more violent, more regular.  He forbade me from seeing my family and despised it when I talked with my mom.  I drew the line when I went to visit my sister at college (whom I hadn't even been able to talk to in 3 or 4 months because of him) and he sold my fathers stereo system (worth $800-$1000 or so) for an ounce of shake (the leftovers of really bad pot). 

I moved in with my grandma.  I wound up back with him, and back with grandma, then with other boyfriends, more drugs, alcohol, sex, etc. I never could be happy.  I had too much baggage, too much pain, too much guilt. 
My roommate's friend introduced me to a guy (he was a backslidden Christian as well).  We knew that we were meant for each other.  After two weeks, we knew we were going to get married.  How could I have found this man?  He was into drugs, alcohol, and sex, but we were so good together. 

It came time to plan the wedding and he started talking about the groom's men.  He wanted his old friend's, who were like brother's to him, to stand up for him.  Only problem was, they all still went to church--they still lead the Christian life. His guilt started to work on him.  We talked about the possibility of going back to church, but the partying was much more important.

I ran into one of his old friend's at the mall and they invited us out for a barbecue.  Of course we went, he wanted to talk to them about the wedding.  As we were getting ready to leave, they invited us to stay and go to a Bible study with them.  It was already late and we had to work in the morning, so of course we left.  We stopped at Wal-Mart on our way home.  It was there, in the check out line that I heard a voice "I will never give up on you, but if you don't hop on the train right now, it's taking off without you.  This is your last chance before you give up on me".  Needless to say, I was a little freaked out.  However in the midst of my hysteria, I convinced my boyfriend that we needed to join his friends at Bible study that night.  We both rededicated our lives to Jesus that night.

All day Saturday, I couldn't get the abortion out of my mind.  How could God forgive me of that?  I know he is merciful, but give me a break!  Sunday morning, my boyfriend talked me into going out to his friend's church.  Please keep in mind that I was raised a Baptist.  This was a Church Of God also "labeled" as a Pentecostal church.  The thought of walking through the doors of that place scared me to death.  When I did, I felt so much love just emanating from that place.  I had never experienced a church like that.  They always seemed to feel cold in the past.  During praise and worship, a lady came over to me.  I had never met her before.  She told me that God had sent her to me with a message.  You can imagine how loony I thought she was.  She said "God says that there is nothing he can't forgive you for, and that you just need to give it over to him".  I fell to my knees and raised my hands toward heaven and praised my Heavenly Father with everything I had in my heart.  I knew at that moment that even when I couldn't forgive myself, he could.  I finally knew what it was I was looking for.  It wasn't the high I got from drugs, alcohol, and sex.  It was forgiveness.  It was unconditional love.  It was a chance to start over.  It was a friend who would always be there.  It was something that so many people had tried to tell me I could have, but I never thought that it was worth giving up so much in return.  I realize now that I gave up nothing.  I gained the whole world, and it cost me no more that trusting in the ability to be forgiven.

I will never be the same.  I searched my whole life for a reason for being.  God gave it to me.  After many months of praying for him to tell me, last month he gave me my calling.  I know he was talking to me just as I know he sent that woman to me not too many Sunday's ago.  I heard a voice saying "You are going to open a support group, and you are going to call it 'Mother's Of Aborted Children'".  Trust me, I could never imagine myself having enough strength to accomplish this on my own.

Now, I married that man that God put in my life.  I am going to school to learn the skills I need to be professional about where God wants me.  Finally, I am using this email site in the mean time to talk, help, answer questions, gather information, and collect names of prospective employees/clients.  If you would like further information about any of these, please email me at this address.  Please try to give me some idea of the content of your email in the subject line.

If you are considering an abortion or have had one and need emotional support contact me at:

mothersofabortedchildren@hotmail.com

May God bless you and keep you.

"For it is by grace that you are saved through faith, and not that of yourselves; it is the gift of God." Ephesians 2:8