Here is a compilation of the Being Real posts where I tell the story of my abortion and repentance:
Being Real
Being Real 2
Being Real 3
Being Real 4
Being Real 5
Being Real 6
It is my hope that others are more equipped to discern the lies and see the truth about abortion.
Showing posts with label Being Real - Abortion Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Being Real - Abortion Story. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Being Real 6
I have 3 "friends" that have had abortions. Let me clarify the word friend. Two of them I haven't seen for years and one no longer talks to me. They are in denial, only they don't know it. They said things to me like, "it has just never bothered me the way it has bothered you." or "it doesn't affect me anymore." or "it was a tough decision but a good one for me." I have some questions for you. Why do you drink like a fish? Why do you smoke like a chimney? Why do you swear like a sailor? Why do you under or over eat? Why the medication for depression? Where is the peace? If your decision was so right, shouldn't you be at peace with it? Why are you so angry? You are running girls. Running. The only way to healing is through the pain.
I have had amazing resources to face into the pain. Forgiven and Set Free by Linda Cochrane is a book that I couldn't have done it without. I'll Hold You in Heaven by Jack Hayford is another one. I have spoken at our church and I have led a bible study. I have talked on the phone for 3 hours to a girl who eventually did have one. I submitted my experience as a sworn affidavit in a court case.
The rest of my story remains to be written. My children will someday ask me what an abortion is. They will get an earfull. Ya think? I will be speaking at the state capitol in January, holding my sign that says I Regret My Abortion. Someday I want to stand outside Meadowbrook with only love written on my face or volunteer at a pregnancy center. The truth will penetrate all of the lies. I have no doubt.
I never even typed what I thought about the father of my child. He doesn't know I was pregnant or that I aborted his child. I denied him fatherhood. I grieve for him as well.
Husbands have taken their wives, boyfriends have taken their girlfriends to get abortions and they are hurting too. There are millions of hurting men and women. Millions of dead babies.
Abortion hurts us all.
And just what would my 16 year old child be like today???
Letter to my daughter
UPDATE There are 5 babies that I know of that are alive today because I have told my abortion story. One was born on my birthday. I speak the truth of my story at Marches for Life and rallies and prolife banquets. I tell others that abortion brought death to my daughter and destruction to my life. Until He came. I get to lead other women to the healing and forgiveness in Christ that I have found!! Last year-2018 I was awarded the Champions for Life award from Options for Women. Presented to me by the roommate who drove me to my abortion! Who now is the Director of the Lakes Life Care Center. Saving babies and their mommies from abortion every single day. I stand on the sidewalk outside of the nation's 3rd largest abortion mill. I get to offer to women what I wanted for myself 29 years ago. Help and hope and support. I started the FCC Prolife Coalition to help others became educated and engaged. Thank you Lord for ALL that You have done to rescue and redeem and restore!!
All of what I do is here http://outcrywisconsin.blogspot.com
I have had amazing resources to face into the pain. Forgiven and Set Free by Linda Cochrane is a book that I couldn't have done it without. I'll Hold You in Heaven by Jack Hayford is another one. I have spoken at our church and I have led a bible study. I have talked on the phone for 3 hours to a girl who eventually did have one. I submitted my experience as a sworn affidavit in a court case.
The rest of my story remains to be written. My children will someday ask me what an abortion is. They will get an earfull. Ya think? I will be speaking at the state capitol in January, holding my sign that says I Regret My Abortion. Someday I want to stand outside Meadowbrook with only love written on my face or volunteer at a pregnancy center. The truth will penetrate all of the lies. I have no doubt.
I never even typed what I thought about the father of my child. He doesn't know I was pregnant or that I aborted his child. I denied him fatherhood. I grieve for him as well.
Husbands have taken their wives, boyfriends have taken their girlfriends to get abortions and they are hurting too. There are millions of hurting men and women. Millions of dead babies.
Abortion hurts us all.
And just what would my 16 year old child be like today???
Letter to my daughter
UPDATE There are 5 babies that I know of that are alive today because I have told my abortion story. One was born on my birthday. I speak the truth of my story at Marches for Life and rallies and prolife banquets. I tell others that abortion brought death to my daughter and destruction to my life. Until He came. I get to lead other women to the healing and forgiveness in Christ that I have found!! Last year-2018 I was awarded the Champions for Life award from Options for Women. Presented to me by the roommate who drove me to my abortion! Who now is the Director of the Lakes Life Care Center. Saving babies and their mommies from abortion every single day. I stand on the sidewalk outside of the nation's 3rd largest abortion mill. I get to offer to women what I wanted for myself 29 years ago. Help and hope and support. I started the FCC Prolife Coalition to help others became educated and engaged. Thank you Lord for ALL that You have done to rescue and redeem and restore!!
All of what I do is here http://outcrywisconsin.blogspot.com
Friday, July 27, 2007
Being Real 5
I want to thank you for all of your comments. They mean so much to me.
Pressing on....
Pat and I told everyone that we were pregnant. We were more than happy. We were walking on sunshine. When I was about 10 weeks along I started to bleed and had an ultrasound. There was no heartbeat. The Dr. I was seeing must have gotten straight A's in her How To Be Heartless classes. She was simply not concerned in the least. I was wasting her time. She asked me what I was going to do. What?! She asked me if I wanted a D & C. If that was a drug, give me some. As she walked out of the room she flippantly stated, "Oh, you'll pass a plumsized clot." HHHMMMMM That is so not what happened. I went into labor. I had contractions and was simply not prepared to deliver our baby in my hand. I remember screaming, "My baby! My baby! My baby!" Pat wanted to help his wife, but didn't know how. Who kept screaming?! I looked hard at my child wanting to memorize everything, take a photo with my brain. Tiny feet with tiny toes, hands, fingers, arms and legs, a tiny rump and a sweet little face. And then it hit me. Oh, dear Lord! I was this far along before my abortion! I had killed one, such as this?! A tiny unborn baby?! There was absolutely no denying the humanity of this precious child! Nothing like truth slapping you upside the head. I finally understood. I got it.
Weeks later I received a call from the hospital to set up my next OB/GYN appointment. I screamed, "MY BABY DIED!!!!!" And I SLAMMED the receiver down as hard as I could.
This was the first in a series of events that led me down a path of repentance. My pastor mentioned abortion now and again. I thought I might throw up when he did. How could I reconcile what I thought was "my choice" and the faith that I claimed I now had? I could not. I made an appointment with my pastor because he seemed like someone that might know the truth. I was believe lies. The lie that God would never forgive me. And the lie that my miscarriage was punishment for my abortion. I repented and asked Him to forgive me for what I had done. I repented for ALL of my self destructive sinful behavior that led up to to my abortion. I curled up in a ball in His lap and cried. I whispered, "Help me, please. I don't know what to do." He heard me. I finally found The One. The only One who could remove my wet blanket of shame and bring me out into the light. His name is Jesus.
Being Real 6
Pressing on....
Pat and I told everyone that we were pregnant. We were more than happy. We were walking on sunshine. When I was about 10 weeks along I started to bleed and had an ultrasound. There was no heartbeat. The Dr. I was seeing must have gotten straight A's in her How To Be Heartless classes. She was simply not concerned in the least. I was wasting her time. She asked me what I was going to do. What?! She asked me if I wanted a D & C. If that was a drug, give me some. As she walked out of the room she flippantly stated, "Oh, you'll pass a plumsized clot." HHHMMMMM That is so not what happened. I went into labor. I had contractions and was simply not prepared to deliver our baby in my hand. I remember screaming, "My baby! My baby! My baby!" Pat wanted to help his wife, but didn't know how. Who kept screaming?! I looked hard at my child wanting to memorize everything, take a photo with my brain. Tiny feet with tiny toes, hands, fingers, arms and legs, a tiny rump and a sweet little face. And then it hit me. Oh, dear Lord! I was this far along before my abortion! I had killed one, such as this?! A tiny unborn baby?! There was absolutely no denying the humanity of this precious child! Nothing like truth slapping you upside the head. I finally understood. I got it.
Weeks later I received a call from the hospital to set up my next OB/GYN appointment. I screamed, "MY BABY DIED!!!!!" And I SLAMMED the receiver down as hard as I could.
This was the first in a series of events that led me down a path of repentance. My pastor mentioned abortion now and again. I thought I might throw up when he did. How could I reconcile what I thought was "my choice" and the faith that I claimed I now had? I could not. I made an appointment with my pastor because he seemed like someone that might know the truth. I was believe lies. The lie that God would never forgive me. And the lie that my miscarriage was punishment for my abortion. I repented and asked Him to forgive me for what I had done. I repented for ALL of my self destructive sinful behavior that led up to to my abortion. I curled up in a ball in His lap and cried. I whispered, "Help me, please. I don't know what to do." He heard me. I finally found The One. The only One who could remove my wet blanket of shame and bring me out into the light. His name is Jesus.
Being Real 6
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Being Real 4
I assumed that all of those crying girls were just not as mature as I. After all, I was relieved and ready to get back to my life. That is what I was told would happen. I believe the relief came from leaving that Shop of Horrors without a "thank you," "you're welcome," or a "please, come again." Actually I was supposed to come back for a check up. Yeah, right. I went home to my apartment, took my pain pills and slept the day away. I headed up to see Pat at college that weekend. I clung to him for dear life. I made him promise me that I would have more babies. Promise me. Say it out loud. He did with a very confused look on his face. Poor guy.
One would think that there might be classes offered after an abortion. Getting On With Your Life 101. Make The Nightmares Stop for Beginners. I could not shake the uneasiness I was feeling. An anxiety that drove me to be constantly on the move. I was a substitute teacher from 8-3pm and then worked at a group home from 3:30-10:30pm. EVERYDAY! If I sat still long enough I might start thinking and that would not be good. I drank, I ate too much or too little and exercised obsessively. I began to hate myself, hate my body. A self-loathing that drove me to desperate thoughts of suicide and one suicide attempt. I became depressed and oh, so angry. I was one angry, hurting woman. I wore shame like a wet blanket. I declared myself to be pro-choice. I had one, so that made it right, right?! I would see those billboards for Prolife MN with cute babies and I would swear and flip it off and seethe. There is a name for all of that behavior. It's called denial. A woman who has an abortion will stay in denial for 7-9 years. By then, careers have changed, a husband found, a family is started, a baby is wanted. The bricks that you have used in the wall to protect yourself start to crumble. The lies you believed unravel when replaced with truth.
Patrick Stream and I were married. We started trying to have a baby. We were thrilled to our toes when the pregnancy test revealed that we were indeed pregnant!
Being Real 5
One would think that there might be classes offered after an abortion. Getting On With Your Life 101. Make The Nightmares Stop for Beginners. I could not shake the uneasiness I was feeling. An anxiety that drove me to be constantly on the move. I was a substitute teacher from 8-3pm and then worked at a group home from 3:30-10:30pm. EVERYDAY! If I sat still long enough I might start thinking and that would not be good. I drank, I ate too much or too little and exercised obsessively. I began to hate myself, hate my body. A self-loathing that drove me to desperate thoughts of suicide and one suicide attempt. I became depressed and oh, so angry. I was one angry, hurting woman. I wore shame like a wet blanket. I declared myself to be pro-choice. I had one, so that made it right, right?! I would see those billboards for Prolife MN with cute babies and I would swear and flip it off and seethe. There is a name for all of that behavior. It's called denial. A woman who has an abortion will stay in denial for 7-9 years. By then, careers have changed, a husband found, a family is started, a baby is wanted. The bricks that you have used in the wall to protect yourself start to crumble. The lies you believed unravel when replaced with truth.
Patrick Stream and I were married. We started trying to have a baby. We were thrilled to our toes when the pregnancy test revealed that we were indeed pregnant!
Being Real 5
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Being Real 3
The appointment was made for an abortion. I was a tormented soul. I went through great mental anguish. On one hand, I thought I could have a baby. I could do it. On the other hand, how in the world could I? On the outside I appeared to have my ducks in a row. On the inside I was a mess. What I really wanted more than anything was to curl up in a ball on someone's lap and cry. Cry until I couldn't cry anymore and in a tiny voice whisper,"Help me, please. I don't know what to do." The day came. I had a ride and didn't have any idea what I was in for. Those that support abortion will say that it is like getting a cavity filled or a tooth pulled. No big deal. Another lie.
I wanted to see the "Crazies" that stood outside and tried to talk women out of going in. I wanted to know why they were so against it. But no one was out on the sidewalk that day.
Bear with me, I do not remember everything. There are parts of my time in the killing fields that I cannot account for. I know I was there from like 8am to 1pm. I just don't know the exact order of events anymore. My brain is trying to protect me, I guess. Thank you brain. I do remember the smell of death and fear. It was oppressive really. Nobody smiled. Nobody looked at anyone else. Nobody made small talk. There were so many people! Like herd after herd of cattle. Boyfriends with girlfriends, mothers with daughters. We all knew why we were there even if it wasn't discussed. I think I read some papers. I remember some kind of video. Looked like a cartoon drawing of "a clump of cells." A bunch of red circles. Another lie. I was taken to "counseling." I was asked all sorts of questions about my life and then my answers were turned into "You don't have a husband or boyfriend, you don't have a good job, a nice place, a nice car. What kind of mother would you be??" The counselor said,"Will that be Visa or Mastercard today?" She commented on how self-assured I seemed and that I should be proud of myself for having a plan. Lies. I waited. I remember a girl wandering around and crying. She was about 6 months along. Totally showing, feeling the kicks I am sure. She was begging all of the "nurses" to help her. With all of their compassion, they avoided her. She was a nuisance. I was so grateful to not be her. I didn't have an ultrasound. I did not get to hear that little heartbeat. I don't even remember having a pregnancy test. They told me I was 10 weeks along. How would they know? But then couldn't they have just lied?!
I was brought into a little room. The nurse babbled on about nothing. She told what was happening AS IT WAS HAPPENING. The "doctor" came in. Did not even look at me or talk to me. In fact he seemed angry with me. He was rough, mean, and cruel.(Could he have been anything else?) All business and with such a look of disgust. When abortion supporters say that abortion is "between a woman and her doctor" are they talking about him?!
I don't remember a lot of the procedure. Only parts. The word horrific comes to mind. A loud vacuum sound that I will never forget and pain like I have never felt. My insides torn out.
I sat in a recliner when it was over, with a heated blanket on me and eating peanut butter and jelly toast. I was simply relieved to have it over so I could go home. I could move on. Another lie. I distinctly remember looking around to catch someone's eye and maybe smile with relief. Every single girl that sat in a recliner was crying. The girl across from me was holding her stomach and rocking back and forth holding and saying, "My baby! My baby! My baby!"
Being Real 4
I wanted to see the "Crazies" that stood outside and tried to talk women out of going in. I wanted to know why they were so against it. But no one was out on the sidewalk that day.
Bear with me, I do not remember everything. There are parts of my time in the killing fields that I cannot account for. I know I was there from like 8am to 1pm. I just don't know the exact order of events anymore. My brain is trying to protect me, I guess. Thank you brain. I do remember the smell of death and fear. It was oppressive really. Nobody smiled. Nobody looked at anyone else. Nobody made small talk. There were so many people! Like herd after herd of cattle. Boyfriends with girlfriends, mothers with daughters. We all knew why we were there even if it wasn't discussed. I think I read some papers. I remember some kind of video. Looked like a cartoon drawing of "a clump of cells." A bunch of red circles. Another lie. I was taken to "counseling." I was asked all sorts of questions about my life and then my answers were turned into "You don't have a husband or boyfriend, you don't have a good job, a nice place, a nice car. What kind of mother would you be??" The counselor said,"Will that be Visa or Mastercard today?" She commented on how self-assured I seemed and that I should be proud of myself for having a plan. Lies. I waited. I remember a girl wandering around and crying. She was about 6 months along. Totally showing, feeling the kicks I am sure. She was begging all of the "nurses" to help her. With all of their compassion, they avoided her. She was a nuisance. I was so grateful to not be her. I didn't have an ultrasound. I did not get to hear that little heartbeat. I don't even remember having a pregnancy test. They told me I was 10 weeks along. How would they know? But then couldn't they have just lied?!
I was brought into a little room. The nurse babbled on about nothing. She told what was happening AS IT WAS HAPPENING. The "doctor" came in. Did not even look at me or talk to me. In fact he seemed angry with me. He was rough, mean, and cruel.(Could he have been anything else?) All business and with such a look of disgust. When abortion supporters say that abortion is "between a woman and her doctor" are they talking about him?!
I don't remember a lot of the procedure. Only parts. The word horrific comes to mind. A loud vacuum sound that I will never forget and pain like I have never felt. My insides torn out.
I sat in a recliner when it was over, with a heated blanket on me and eating peanut butter and jelly toast. I was simply relieved to have it over so I could go home. I could move on. Another lie. I distinctly remember looking around to catch someone's eye and maybe smile with relief. Every single girl that sat in a recliner was crying. The girl across from me was holding her stomach and rocking back and forth holding and saying, "My baby! My baby! My baby!"
Being Real 4
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Being Real 2
I couldn't believe it. The pregnancy test was positive. My mind kept repeating no no no no no but the truth does rise to the surface. Yes. I was pregnant. I was 24, lived in a dump, my family wasn't speaking to me, I drove a 1980 Chevy Chevette and worked parttime at a daycare center and Lerner clothing store. I was working on getting my teaching license so I could hopefully land a teaching job. I wasn't about to tell the father. I told Pat and my roomate. 2 people. My roomate said she would drive me. She had driven lots of girlfriends to get theirs. She was talking about abortion. Pat didn't say anything. We were just friends, he was heading back to school and I was alone. I wish I would have sought out others to be informed or simply to listen and be there for me. I was terrified. Out of my mind. Terrified. What would I do? What kind of life would I have? I rushed headlong into a decision before I could even let my thoughts settle. I sorta fantasized about having it.(no, not an it! A baby! My baby!)I could almost let myself feel excited to be a mom but those thoughts were immediately shut down. No. My mother paid for my sister's abortion. Her own grandchild. My example. I went to the phone book and looked in A's. Right there. Right in front was a long list of places. I picked one. I dialed the phone and made an appointment at Meadowbrook. My problem would be over, finished, solved in one week. I could get on with my life. OR so they told me. So I thought.
Being Real 3
Being Real 3
Monday, July 23, 2007
Being Real
If I don't jump in with both feet this post will never be written. Here goes.
I grew up in a family where talking about feelings or emotions was discouraged. There was zero meaningful communication about anything. My mother's weapon of choice was the silent treatment. My parents checked out of their parenting gig when I was probably 10. They followed other more worthwhile pursuits. I was cast adrift on a sea of self-doubt and loneliness with a shoreline of despair in my sights. A girl searching for love. A recipe for disaster. What other people said I was-I became. I started drinking at age 14 to escape the pain of losing my grandmother. She was the only one who showed me unconditional love. I miss her still. Along with the drinking came the suicidal thoughts and the desperate plans of a desperate girl. Hey, wait a minute there are boys out there! Boys who will be nice to you for only one reason. Since I had no moral compass to speak of I was quickly drawn into behaviors that I should have turned from. I was used by many. I believed I deserved no better. On this path of self-destruction I met an extremely abusive man. He kept that under wraps until we were engaged. He beat me and one night tried to rape and kill me. I ran. I ran to Connecticut to be a nanny for a loving family. I was healing. I left Connecticut after my contract was up. I came home to a very icy reception. My family wasn't even at the airport to meet me. I had to beg my sister to come after promising that I would pay her for gas. WELCOME HOME, CARLA! I found an apartment with a co-worker and started partying.
There he was. The man I would marry. I saw him and felt like I had known him all of my life. Patrick Stream. I fell in like. Wanted to do this right for once. Just be friends and have fun and get back on track. I wouldn't even kiss him on our first date.
The world came crashing in when the pregnancy test came back positive. Stay tuned.
Being Real 2
I grew up in a family where talking about feelings or emotions was discouraged. There was zero meaningful communication about anything. My mother's weapon of choice was the silent treatment. My parents checked out of their parenting gig when I was probably 10. They followed other more worthwhile pursuits. I was cast adrift on a sea of self-doubt and loneliness with a shoreline of despair in my sights. A girl searching for love. A recipe for disaster. What other people said I was-I became. I started drinking at age 14 to escape the pain of losing my grandmother. She was the only one who showed me unconditional love. I miss her still. Along with the drinking came the suicidal thoughts and the desperate plans of a desperate girl. Hey, wait a minute there are boys out there! Boys who will be nice to you for only one reason. Since I had no moral compass to speak of I was quickly drawn into behaviors that I should have turned from. I was used by many. I believed I deserved no better. On this path of self-destruction I met an extremely abusive man. He kept that under wraps until we were engaged. He beat me and one night tried to rape and kill me. I ran. I ran to Connecticut to be a nanny for a loving family. I was healing. I left Connecticut after my contract was up. I came home to a very icy reception. My family wasn't even at the airport to meet me. I had to beg my sister to come after promising that I would pay her for gas. WELCOME HOME, CARLA! I found an apartment with a co-worker and started partying.
There he was. The man I would marry. I saw him and felt like I had known him all of my life. Patrick Stream. I fell in like. Wanted to do this right for once. Just be friends and have fun and get back on track. I wouldn't even kiss him on our first date.
The world came crashing in when the pregnancy test came back positive. Stay tuned.
Being Real 2
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