This true story was submitted to us by Elisha C.
Fear is an emotion we learn at an early age, some sooner than others. Kind of like my two-year-old, Mason. He will excitedly climb all the way to the tip-top of a ladder with a huge smile. With each step, while reaching for the next place to put his hand, his eyes never leave the ceiling. Then as soon as his hands have no place to hold onto, he looks down realizing how high he really is, and he becomes overwhelmed with fear.
This kind of fear comes in short intervals. It’s there and then it’s gone. With one loud holler for his mommy, he knows he will be rescued. We all know what it feels like to be scared. Once we feel our feet touch the ground–Poof! The fear is gone.
Then there are the big fears. Big fears like being alone and unloved. Or the fear of battling terminal illness and leaving family behind. Or maybe it’s the kind of fear that silences you. Just the thought of others knowing what you did is terrifying.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I mean, what will they think of me?”
“Will they think the same things I think about myself?”
“How could I do that to an innocent person?”
The fear of carrying shame and guilt after making the ultimate wrong choice. That fear was mine. For me, this was the worst kind of fear.
Satan uses our fears as a weapon to move our minds away from our faith in Jesus. He does this because faith teaches us to be still and to let God lead us in all of our life decisions. Whether it be a huge financial purchase, a big move across country, or, whether or not we choose life for our unborn baby.
Christians and non-Christians are both struggling with this every day.
The choice is usually made in secret. On average, there are 3,000 women struggling with this choice in the U.S. every day. That is 4 out of every 10 unwanted pregnancies. We all know someone.
Well, there they were, two pink lines.
But this time was different. I already had two toddler boys and a baby girl. What was I going to do with another baby? Our relationship was very rocky. We were barely hanging on. We recently went through a very hard pregnancy with our little girl that left us both feeling inadequate, unworthy of one another’s trust, and still holding grudges.
We were not ready. He wasn’t ready. How could we afford another baby? How are we going to do this? Do we even really love each other? Don’t you remember the last pregnancy?
We didn’t know.
Fear will make you crazy and selfish. Did you hear that? How are “we?” Where would “I?” How can “I” keep him? Never once did I consider my baby. Fear will lead you to do things you never thought you would ever do. I always said I would never get an abortion. Oh no. Not me. Never.
But after making phone calls to a couple people–Yep, abortion it is.
The day came. I hardly remember the drive there or the name of the facility. But I do remember the fear. I remember pulling into the parking lot. I remember the slow walk into the building. No one shouting “Stop!” No one asking, “Are you sure this is what you want?” Nothing but fear.
Fear led me to believe abortion was my only option–“I have no job. Three kids. And how do I know he really wants to be with me now? What if he leaves me again with nothing?”
I remember the smell sometimes. I remember the dead still air. I remember everything moving in what seemed like slow motion. I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying because the voice inside my own head was so loud trying to convince me why this was the right thing to do.
I remember the pulling back and forth, the wrestling with God and Satan. I remember knowing what was right, but choosing what was wrong. But, there was no one there on the outside supporting me, encouraging me, offering me a helping hand… Why?
The nurse stepped out and called me to the back. I walked into a room that looked similar to an OBGYN office. But there weren’t any smiling posters of moms with their babies. The walls were empty.
I wasn’t ever asked if I wanted to see my baby or hear its heartbeat. I was told my baby was just a “yolk sac”–not even a baby yet. Only recently did I find out that my baby actually had a heartbeat and they lied to me. I have questioned myself as to why I didn’t ask to see it on the monitor. But I know why…fear.
There were so many of us in the room that there were chairs lined out the doorway. The lady handed each of us a pill (RU- 486), a small cup of water, and a little baggy with health information, directions, and the four dissolvable pills to take home with us.
I was so scared and my heart was beating so loud–I couldn’t even hear what the lady was saying.
Her mouth was moving in slow motion, and as I saw all the other girls lift up their cups of water and place the pill on their tongue, I mimicked them, silently like a mime. There it went. Done.
I don’t remember the ride home. I do remember pulling into our driveway and slowly drifting back off into my mind. I couldn’t hear anything around me. I changed my mind. I thought I did. I wanted to. It was too late. I remember climbing onto the couch with the four little pills and fighting back the tears.
He couldn’t take it. He headed for the door to find something to do outside. Something to keep his mind occupied. I was left alone in the house with the pills. The four pills to finish this. I was alone.
He ran. I had no place to run. I couldn’t hide from it. I had to finish this. I already took the first pill. I could risk my own health. I have three babies to take care of.
I placed them in my mouth one by one while tears began to slowly slide down my cheeks. My mind was broken. My heart was broken. I was broken. My tears eventually turned into a loud sobbing. I grabbed a small pillow, pulled my knees to my chest, held onto it tightly, and I waited. I waited alone.
Y’all, we are never alone. Jesus is always with us. I know now, that we are allowed mistakes, and through these mistakes I have learned to pray before, during, and after making any decisions. God is faithful through all of our choices, our terrible decisions, and the consequences that follow them. He holds us up even when it’s our own stinking fault.
Abortion has caused me lots of pain and brokenness. I have suffered through guilt, depression, anger, and hate. I have even had thoughts of taking my own life. Through those feelings, I wasn’t able to physically or emotionally be a good mother or a good wife.
It is so amazing to know that God can see the good in us when we can’t. He continues to love us even when we feel unlovable.
After my abortion, I blamed the baby’s father a lot. I blamed others I spoke with too. But I blamed myself even more. I was told many times, “You just have to forgive yourself.” Yeah, okay, no problem. Let me get right on that.
“Forgive yourself!” Huh? How can I do that? Me, the mother, who already has 3 kids, has chosen to take control of the life and death of an innocent baby. The result of my very own, very wrong decision.
How do we forgive ourselves? Oh yeah, you don’t have to. It’s already done.
“What do you mean it’s already done?” you ask. Guess what? There isn’t one scripture that says you have to forgive yourself. None. Not One. 1 John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”
I didn’t know this until I was saved. I was full of so much shame and guilt that I put myself in a place of judgement. When you ask God for forgiveness, He reconciles you to Himself by the death of His son Jesus! There is not one reason for us to hang onto all of our past mistakes.
You do not have to live in shame. God forgives you. He loves you. So, as mamas, we have to stick together. Empower one another. Help carry one another’s burdens. Pray for one another. Grieve the losses of our babies together.
There is a saying in North Korea, “Women are weak, but mothers are strong!” Wow! I love this. As humans, we make bad decisions, but God spares us despite it all. So, stand firm in your faith and do not move away from the hope held out in the gospel.