This true story was submitted to us by Leslie G. via social media. 

As I read the other testimonies of post-abortive women, mine is much the same. Those of you who have been through it know the pain. Mine was over 13 years ago. The pain fades a bit over time, though only through the Blood of Jesus and his mercy on our memories.

I got pregnant when I was 24 years old. I had moved up to Philadelphia after graduating college. I went there to follow a boy, a man, I guess. I was in love with him and had dated and lived with him for 3 years. I thought he was ideal. But he did not love me the same way. He tried to tell me many times, but I was needy and clingy. I did not have a relationship with God or even know Him at the time. 

I followed him like a clinging vine to Philly. I got a job there at a big investment banking firm and thought everything would be alright. Later that year, I found out I was pregnant. His first thought was abortion. I was dumbstruck. I was in disbelief. Part of me really wanted to get married and have the baby.

But, because of my upbringing and lies I believed from biology class, I honestly believed it was “my body, my choice,” and that the fetus was a clump of cells and a “blob.” So this was my background thought-wise. It was this “perfect storm” that led to me choose abortion.

Yes, I suffered, due to my ignorance. But it was having an abortion that woke me up to the truth about Jesus and other truths about what life really is.

It was the moment when I experienced life being torn from my body that my eyes were truly opened. But it was too late for my baby. The doctor did the procedure fast, probably because he could not stand the continuous sounds of my screaming.

The day I went into that clinic, I thought I would just ask some questions and find out more about abortion. When I walked in that clinic, my mind was not made up. But once I was inside there was no escape for me.

The people who worked there talked to me and coerced me, along with my boyfriend, into having the abortion. It was sort of like they describe a car accident. Things seemed unreal, as though they were happening in slow motion.

Things that happened should have made me run out of there, but I suppose a feeling of powerlessness came over me.  

I heard the sound of the suction machine, which they use to suction out the unborn babies, yet I stayed. I got an ultrasound so they could see the position of the baby. I asked what the sex of the baby was. The staff person told me they were not allowed to tell me that.

That was probably one of the worst parts. I was denied the knowledge of knowing whether my child was a boy or a girl. In retrospect, I believe that if they had told me the sex of the baby, I would not have been able to go through with it.

And when I was finally allowed out of the recovery room, I ran out of there as fast as I could. When I got to the stairwell, I was screaming at the top of my lungs.

My boyfriend’s reaction to all this? He was laughing. I guess his mind could not comprehend what was happening with me. Only a woman who has gone through the same thing could ever fully understand what it is like. After the abortion, I had PTSD or PAS. I literally cried for three years solid. I also got severe pelvic pain and spotting.

Only Jesus was able, over time, to heal me of my wounds – mental, spiritual, physical, and emotional. The only way back from it was through Jesus. I don’t know how a woman can cope with that decision without the redemptive power of Jesus.

I hope my story illustrates the reality of abortion. This is real hell on earth for women and death for their unborn babies. One cannot understand if one has no reference point, so I hope my story will give you a reference point.

I’ve read many testimonies from women who say they were stupid. If you are one of these women, I can understand. But you need to also realize you were a victim, you were deceived, at least in part. Even if you say you “knew” what you were getting into and did it anyhow. Until that horrible violation happens – you truly don’t and cannot know what abortion is.

Though I truly regret my abortion, I don’t regret that my Savior used that wretchedness to save a wretch like me. Praise Jesus!