The abortion clinic she is describing belongs to Curtis and Glenna Boyd. They do late-term abortions. Babies like the one below (and ones quite a bit older) are dismembered at this “bright and airy” clinic.
A reporter at an abortion clinic wrote about a young patient who came in:
DeNeese…has never heard of Roe v. Wade. She’s not even in high school yet. At age 14, five months after losing her virginity, she’s now almost 14 weeks pregnant – the maximum length of pregnancy that this clinic will handle.
“I didn’t realize I was this far along,” says DeNeese, a petite girl with large brown eyes and close-cropped hair….
The father of her baby is her steady boyfriend, and when she got pregnant, there was no discussion of keeping the baby. “I just told him I’m having an abortion,” she says. “I don’t think I ever wanna have kids.
DeNeese has full parental support. With her stepmother at her side, DeNeese listens to counselor Jessica Huertas like a schoolgirl who’s been sent to the principal’s office. DeNeese leans over the table, her chin resting on her hand, her eyes rolling as Ms. Huertas delivers a mini-tutorial on how she must continue to use condoms even after she gets a Depo-Provera shot that will keep her from getting pregnant for three months.
No one suggests that DeNeese might want to try sexual abstinence. “We have to be realistic,” says Ms. Monastersky, the clinic director, later in the day. “This girl is going back to her boyfriend and he’s going to say, ‘Oh baby, I love you….’ and well, you know.”
In the clinic, a lab sits between the two procedure rooms. After a first-trimester abortion, the physician’s assistant passes the instruments into the lab through a small door, along with a jar with a narrow cloth bag inside that holds the removed tissue. For early pregnancies, the lab technician rinses the bag in a shallow bowl of water to make sure the feathery tissue of the early fetus was fully removed. Everything is then collected in small vats that are sent out as medical waste. The vats for the second-term abortions are filled with tissue, as well, though at that stage, the fetus is no longer a feathery half-inch of tissue. Small limbs are clearly visible. “It’s a medical procedure,” said Britta, who explained that the clinic staff view their work and examine tissue scientifically, just as other medical professionals do.
The article “Inside the abortion clinic” on why late term abortions are done
Most [patients] awaited first-trimester abortions (a simple suction procedure performed in the first three months of pregnancy). But every week, the clinic serves at least a few women who are deep into their second trimesters, which necessitates a more-complex procedure performed up to the end of the sixth month—California’s legal limit of 24 weeks.
According to clinic staff, women who wait past the first three
months of pregnancy do so for countless reasons, some of them tragic, such as when a wanted pregnancy develops some fatal abnormality. Other women can’t decide whether to risk parenthood as teenagers; have partners who discourage abortion; didn’t know they were pregnant (extreme athleticism can disrupt normal menstruation); have partners who die or leave; have a condition in which pregnancy dangerously affects their health; can’t handle the financial burden; are in denial; or postpone their decisions because of drug addiction. Sometimes, women seek abortions because they only want boys, and they’re pregnant with girls.
“It’s different every day,” said [clnic worker] Britta.
In a year, the clinic handles between 2,000 and 3,000 first-trimester abortions, estimated Britta, and anywhere from 500 to 800 second-trimester abortions.
A woman named Hope was hired by Planned Parenthood to interpret the worker’s words into sign language for deaf patients. She describes what she experienced when she was asked to interpret during an abortion. The baby was aborted at eighteen weeks:
“At 10:30 sharp, we entered the operating room. That’s when my stomach started to turn. Previously, when I’d read “medical procedure,” it had been for ultrasounds. But this was different – we were in an OR. The lights were too bright for the size of the room. There were cold-looking metal objects on a table. I was in an abortion.
I tried to remain calm. I interpreted back and forth, but when the murder began, I lost it. As I watched the doctor pull this life out, limb by limb, I couldn’t help but let the tears start to fall. What I had thought would be just lumps of blood clots were body parts. Arms, a torso, legs, and a head. I felt as if I was suffocating. As soon as it was over, I ran from the room. I collapsed in the hallway and sobbed uncontrollably. To this day, I haven’t cried like that since. A security guard rushed me into his office. I realize now that it was probably not to console me, but because I was scaring the patients.
I quit my job that afternoon. I went into the manager’s office and signed my papers. Abortion was not a strong enough word for what I had witnessed. Murder wasn’t even good enough a word. To me, murder implied that the person might have been capable of fighting back. No, this was a slaughter.”
A woman who chose to have an abortion because her baby had down syndrome saw the body of her baby afterwards and describes the baby is looking like a “doll”. Here are her words:
“I never decided, when he took the baby out, I immediately said, “Can I see it?” And he was a little doll, 7, 8 inches long, perfectly formed, a little tiny baby doll. He was beet red, and I couldn’t see anything wrong but the nurse knew, she came forward, she showed me where the signs of down syndrome were. And then the doctor stepped in and he showed me too. And I think they did it, well, so I could be at peace with the little doll of the baby, so I would never think that just because he looks so well formed, I’d never think there had been a mistake.”
Rayna Rapp Testing Women, Testing the Fetus: the Social Impact of Amniocentesis in America (New York: Routledge, 1999) 240
The baby, of course, was not a doll, but a dead human being. Like the one below, who was aborted at about the same time as the woman’s:
These abortions, at this stage, are performed every day. Not all of them are on handicapped children, many are on children that are perfectly healthy. They are not dolls – they are babies. Most of the time, however, babies at this age are taken out in pieces. The chart below shows how.
Here is the foot and leg of a baby who was taken apart in this manner.
You can count each individual toe. The baby most likely felt pain as she was being ripped apart.
The excuse James Scott Pendergraft IV gave in court, defending his practice of having abortion patients deliver their dead or dying babies into the toilet at his abortion facility. The court case was about a baby that survived the abortion. It came out in the trial that other babies had also survived the initial abortion procedure and been born alive but died at the clinic.
The jury found that Pendergraft was liable for the child’s medical care. Pendergraft has been in legal trouble numerous times, and has had his license suspended at least 4 times. He is still performing abortions.
I’m a registered nurse, have always been pro-life, but one of the most concerning things I heard was from a student nurse telling me about her experience in an abortion clinic. She described in detail the remains of the 10 week old child and how “interesting” it was. She was so delighted and excited, that she didnt even seem to realize that louding [sic] proclaiming this in the break room in front of seasoned nurses wasn’t really the done thing.
In an article about abortionist Dr. William Harrison, the author describes an abortion:
An 18-year-old with braces on her teeth is on the operating table, her head on a plaid pillow, her feet up in stirrups, her arms strapped down at her sides. A pink blanket is draped over her stomach. She’s 13 weeks pregnant, at the very end of the first trimester. She hasn’t told her parents.
A nurse has already given her a local anesthetic, Valium and a drug to dilate her cervix; Harrison prepares to inject Versed, a sedative, in her intravenous line. The drug will wipe out her memory of everything that happens during the 20 minutes she’s in the operating room. It’s so effective that patients who return for a follow-up exam often don’t recognize Harrison.
The doctor is wearing a black turtleneck, brown slacks and tennis shoes. He snaps his gum as he checks the monitors displaying the patient’s pulse rate and oxygen count.
“This is not going to be nearly as hard as you anticipate,” he tells her.
She smiles wanly. Keeping up a constant patter – he asks about her brothers, her future birth control plans, whether she’s good at tongue twisters – Harrison pulls on sterile gloves.
“How’re you doing up there?” he asks.
Harrison glances at an ultrasound screen frozen with an image of the fetus taken moments before. Against the fuzzy black-and-white screen, he sees the curve of a head, the bend of an elbow, the ball of a fist.
“You may feel some cramping while we suction everything out,” Harrison tells the patient.
A moment later, he says: “You’re going to hear a sucking sound.”
The abortion takes two minutes. The patient lies still and quiet, her eyes closed, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. The friend who has accompanied her stands at her side, mutely stroking her arm.
When he’s done, Harrison performs another ultrasound. The screen this time is blank but for the contours of the uterus. “We’ve gotten everything out of there,” he says
Father Frank Pavone of Priests for Life, whose has spoken to many former clinic workers, said:
“Former workers in the abortion industry have told us stories about playing games of toss with aborted babies in the hallway. Your mind has to invert what is going on: to make it a game, a joke, something positive. It’s the only way to keep from going crazy — and some of them do.”
“The one thing that sticks out in my mind the most, that really upset me the most, was that he had done an abortion, he had a fetus wrapped inside of a blue paper. He stuck it inside of a surgical glove and put another glove over it. He was standing in the hall, speaking with myself and two of his assistants. He was tossing the fetus up in the air and catching it. Like it was a rubber ball. I just looked at him and it’s like doctor, please. And he laughed. He says, “Nobody knows what this is.”
Rachel M. Macnair, Perpetration-Induced Traumatic Stress: The Psychological Consequences of Killing. (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2002)