I was a junior at Michigan State University in when I visited the “WomanCare” Planned Parenthood clinic in 1987. The stunning confirmation of my crisis pregnancy was delivered to me while I stood in a hallway surrounded by strangers. Life as I knew it, had just changed for the worse. Through hot, angry tears, I sobbed that I could NOT be pregnant. I would have no part of a baby-limited future. I was in a disconnected panic. Confused, alone and unsupported I wondered aloud how I would deliver this news to my parents, family, friends, and floormates where I was a Resident Assistant. I believed that I was out of options and running out of time. I reached for the only conclusion that could deaden the pain. Abortion was not the ideal, but it was a solution…an easy way out that could be kept secret. A choice.
A very attractive clinic employee clad in business attire reassured me that I need not feel afraid or guilty for choosing abortion. She herself had multiple abortions and was grateful for having the power to be able to control the size and spacing of her family. This was my final edification. Even though my boyfriend agreed to marry me, I would make the final, fatal decision for our baby. I chose my body, my plan and my convenience over his life.
Numbed by twilight sedation, my conscience in self-inflicted exile, I allowed my accomplices – the abortionist and his nurse-witness – to rip from my uterus, my tiny, 10 week old son. His small frame captured on ultrasound only a week earlier was now in pieces in a plastic container.
They tell us that Abortion is good for women; that it is necessary. That it prevents us from being punished with unwanted children. Let me tell you that this is a bold-faced lie. The sights, sounds and smells of that day in January still haunt me. The images are as fresh today as they were 25 years ago. There was no one around me to advocate for the life of my son. No one to speak for him; to break into his mother’s crisis of the moment. The choice didn’t really feel like a choice at all. I wasn’t choosing between Cheerios or Frosted Flakes. I was in a desperate place and I did what many, young, unsupported, college women do when faced with a desperate situation—I made an irrational, illogical and fatal decision for my child and I regret everything about that decision today.
The years following my abortion included inexplicable depression, anxiety, alcoholism and addiction; and divorce from the baby’s father in 1990. I am a living statistic. But thanks be to God and His grace working through people just like you, my story does not end there.
I found miraculous grace, healing and recovery from our Great Physician, Jesus Christ and the Sacraments of His church. Telling my story, first in the confessional and later to others whom I trusted thrust my secret out of the dark cavity of numbness where I had placed it and into God’s marvelous light where I could find forgiveness and healing. The dirty little secret of abortion must be exposed for what it is – it is a failure of Love. A failure with fatal consequences.
We all deserve better than the lie that is abortion. Women are not in a position to make decisions about anything when they are isolated in a desperate crisis. What we do need is support and love. I stand before you today to offer my personal experience as a woman who still mourns the loss of her firstborn child. Out of my love for Michael, my child in heaven, and my obligation to you; the real truth must be told about abortion and its countless victims. Abortion is not a choice, it is a weapon that causes death and multiple casualties. We are our brothers’ keepers. We are all responsible for creating a just society where the most fundamental rights of our unborn brothers and sisters are protected. Let us continue to work together to end the killing. It is my hope that I can be a light and witness to others so that the horror of abortion will exist only as a sad and futile relic of a bygone era in our nation’s history. And this is why I am Silent No More.
January 2012 March for Life
(If you or someone you know is suffering the wound of abortion please email me directly: firstname.lastname@example.org. Hope and healing are available to you.)