Category: Women’s Stories

From a woman who had an abortion at 18:

“So, I called them [the clinic], and they told me what to do to prepare myself. I didn’t even know what abortion really was. So I went up there the next day – it all happened really fast – and the woman at the reception desk asked me the reason for terminating the baby. I said that “I would like to keep it, but I can’t.” She said, “Well then, you don’t want to, do you?” I said, “No, I want it; but I can’t keep it.” I had no support from anybody at that time. She wrote down anyway that I didn’t want the fetus. That hurt me really bad at the time, because I did want my baby.

She didn’t mention any alternatives whatsoever. In fact, everybody I talked to was very rude to me. It seemed like they were all angry. I went to this other room for counseling, or what they called counseling, but it wasn’t really. Their counseling was to tell us about what they were going to do. Then they showed us pictures of ways to prevent birth next time. They wanted me to get an IUD; they said that was the best thing to get. So they sold me an IUD, and they put it in me after the abortion.

The doctor told me I was almost 4 months along. I asked the doctor, “Is the baby alive?” He said “No.” I never had prior instruction in school as to the development of a baby, so I didn’t know any better. All I had to go on was what he told me; and that’s all he said.”

David C Reardon Aborted Women: Silent No More (Westchester, Illinois: Crossway books, 1987) 147 – 148

See pictures of a 4 month baby after he or she has been aborted

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My early 1980’s abortion left me sterile, traumatized and heartbroken.  Allow me to elaborate…. WARNING: free of euphemisms and candy-coating.  So much  flowery rhetoric to describe the most sinister of acts…  So I will go there, penetrate the 10 feet thick wall of lies and denial that I lived in, and go to the truth.  George Orwell said : “Speaking truth in times of universal deceit is a revolutionary act.”

As a young woman, I got pregnant after sleeping around two times. I came to believe my virginity made me a pollyanna or uncool. Most of my college-aged peers were having sex, including my roommates. You were considered a prude if you weren’t “sexually active.” You were mocked at this school if you weren’t.

I estimated when I would be ovulating… Alcohol was involved. I actually sought out to lose my virginity like it was a bad disease or something to be ashamed of.  Turns out you can get pregnant at anytime in your cycle. Public education taught us that abortion was part of the reproductive option package.

In a short time, I discovered I was pregnant.  I panicked because I was consumed by fear.  I did not want to burden my parents with my problem and wanted to hide the fact that I had had premarital sex. Turned to a family member and a friend and headed to get family planning counseling, like they taught us in sex ed. Everyone told me abortion was the most humane option for someone who was young and unmarried and that it was no big deal.  Like getting a tooth pulled. They told me to hurry and decide as I was almost in my second trimester.  I was 11 weeks pregnant at the time and had misgivings. I asked if this was a baby, and was told: “No, it’s just a formless blob of tissue.”  [note: go here to see what an 11 week old baby looks liken before and after abortion] I did not understand abortion or fetal development–not even close. The only time the word baby was used was when I used it.

The abortion was painful. But the worst was yet to come…  My nightmare was just beginning.

The following month was both grisly and  horrifying. What in the world was coming out of me? I languished alone in severe pain, for weeks, like labor pains, continually bleeding and passing large and small blood clots and torn pieces of what I now grimly realized (like a hard, cold slap in the face) was once my baby’s body, placenta, umbilical cord and amniotic sac. Skin, muscle, organ, brain matter, flesh…   A pink slurry of unidentifiable debris (some looked like cartilage, tiny fish bones and bone fragments)  where I could even see where there had been knife cuts made–what the abortion industry calls “retained products of conception”.  Over and over, I got to witness more abortion industry euphemisms, such as “pregnancy debris” or “decidua”.

Aghast, these images were and are forever imprinted-seared into my brain and HURT LIKE HELL.  This was my precious baby and there are no words to describe the intensity and ferocity of my regret, raw pain and suffocating guilt.  I had no one who would help me. No one. The clinic would not help me and I was too ashamed to tell anyone. About 2 weeks after the procedure, my parents were very disturbed to see, as I stood before them in a robe right after a shower, a bright red river of blood streaming down my leg at a fast rate, following a very large piece of “uterine contents” that hit the floor hard.

They looked at each other with this sick panic I’ll never forget and wanted to take me to the ER. I lied to make sure they wouldn’t take me and find out the truth. To this day, I especially think my Mom didn’t believe me.

I believe that my uterine wall was cut. I would later in life be told by doctors, after ultrasound analysis, that I had a tipped uterus-“a severely retroverted uterus”–their words.  This means that it was in a folded position. In 1981, ultrasound was not widely used.   So a new and inexperienced doctor (I know from my research) went into my uterus, which was soft from pregnancy, essentially blind, with a curette, a razor sharp spoon tipped instrument.   (Turns out the pregnant uterus was not designed to be forcibly held open and then entered with a razor sharp instrument, or in my case, a folded pregnant uterus.)  I never met the doctor until I was on the table. There was no relationship. What I would later see at home alone made me cry so hard I could barely breathe and made me sick over the choice I had made, with absolutely no way of coping, but to stuff it.  For an entire decade, I couldn’t even say the word “abortion” without tears flowing. In fact, that’s how my parents found out a few years later. A news report came on the TV about abortion at their house, and I became so upset, I ran outside, unable to conceal my pain–I confessed what happened. The saddest thing of all is that they would have helped me. I also hurt them deeply by this choice.

Thinking God, the Jesus Christ of my childhood, no longer wanted me, denial  became a high art and a way of life.  I detested prolife people and without ever talking to one, I considered them all angry and judgmental of the post-abortive (I was wrong). So I built a protective wall around myself, afraid to tell anyone my secret, lest they dissaprove of me as a person.  I already hated myself enough.  After the “procedure”,  my life  has never been the same. It ended badly for me and the crying has never stopped.  What bothered(s) me most was the idea of my baby’s body all ripped apart and I was and still am, and will always be, this little one’s mom. That I actually paid someone to do this.  There was no mention of them having to reassemble the body parts after the “procedure” in the brochure I was handed.  On that busy August Saturday morning, with my folded uterus, parts of my eviserated, mutilated and very dead baby still remained in me as I left and reality set in too late.  Anyone in favor of abortion needs to watch abortionNo.org and not on a full stomach, to fully understand why euphemistic terms such as “pro-choice”, “reproductive justice”, “abortion care”, “war on women,” and “women’s health” DON’T jive with the insane, sick, evil and brutal reality that is abortion.

In the years after that,  I became inconsolable, with severe depression and  suicide attempts. I developed adenomyosis, a form of endometriosis. I would mark the many days on my calendar lost to pain.

This is a medical condition where scar tissue forms over wounds in the uterine wall. Starting in my twenties, much of my month was spent in cramping pain, as endometrial tissue was trapped and the uterus continually contracted. I later married and could not have children. By my forties, because of my now advanced form of adenomyosis, 2 surgeons advised the immediate removal of my uterus-a full hysterectomy-forever ending any chances of conceiving another child.

I have been to many counselors over this abortion, and now know exactly what an 11 week baby looks like in the womb, and what an abortion did to my only child.  Ultrasound technology shows us today what was previously hidden. I know the truth about abortion and that has been the hardest reality I’ve ever faced.  I have been diagnosed with PTSD, complete with nightmares and flashbacks.  Like what happens in war, only I paid someone to put my innocent baby’s fragile body on a landmine, and  they didn’t collect all his human remains. That was for my eyes only to witness. This little one already had all organs in place, was a tiny human being, MY BABY, who just needed time to grow.  Because of my choice, he instead became medical waste. Where the remains ended up is deeply disturbing to me and also, a source of sickening repetitive scenarios that NEVER leave my mind. If I see a Stericycle truck on the road (a bio-hazard collector of aborted baby remains), I want to vomit and scream at  the thought of the gruesome cargo inside. I have flashbacks of this baby I love so much struggling against the curette, safe one moment, about to be cut to pieces the next. “Mom help me!” “Mom, make them stop!” And I can’t. I would if I could.  I cannot reverse time. My precious one, I would crawl over broken glass to get you back. I would stand in front of a moving train if it would bring you back.

I live in a debilitating straitjacket of guilt, regret and shame, which I can’t seem to overcome and am trying to heal.  Some days are better than others. Christmas and Mother’s Day are especially hard.  I can only imagine the joy of my beloved child opening his presents or giving me a handmade card that says “I love you, Mommy.” Or knowing the joys of watching my child grow up and become a parent.  The sound of a baby cooing is music to my ears. I am writing this to tell you how my choice in 1981 has adversely impacted my life.  I love babies, children and my fellow human beings. I wouldn’t wish this kind of pain on anyone. This “simple and common procedure” turned out to be the biggest wound/source of unending hurt of my lifetime, millions and trillions of times wishing I could take back this “choice.”  Little one, I would give my life if I could have you back. It stings so much just thinking of you and how much I love you.

This summer, while doing ancestry work on Ancestry.com, I added my little one to my family tree. Not only did abortion kill my baby, but his entire family tree. When I die, his name is going on my grave stone. I LOVE this baby immeasurably, who I can never hold, with all my heart.  The loss of this precious child gives me unspeakable sorrow THAT WON’T GO AWAY–will not heal, despite my prayers. His name is at the National Memorial for the Unborn. Abortion is not some wonderful choice, it destroys lives.  There is nothing more evil on the face of this earth than abortion.

K’s precious only child:  1981-1981 forever loved in this life and eternally

 

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Testimony from a woman who regretted her abortion (She had an abortion at Bill Baird’s clinic):

“They kept me in the crowded facility for almost 8 hours, although the suction abortion took only about 5 min. It seemed like the only thing to do at the time, but now as I look back, I realize how much Baird’s disinformation system and advertising contributed to my fall down this escape hatch – and how much they exploited me from start to finish… They misled and insulted me when they “counseled” me in individual and group settings.…

One “counselor” told me the abortion was just a matter of “starting my period” for me. How natural that sounded – as if the delay of a mere bodily process were all that were involved, and Baird and Company would get it back on track for me!

They also showed me a uterine model. This didn’t show the inhabitant of the womb, the unseen victim whose agony I’d learn about later through the educational efforts of pro-lifers.

Nor did they tell me that the loud and violent suction aspirator is 29 times more powerful than your home vacuum cleaner, or that the death date of my baby would be etched on my mind permanently. April would become, quite literally, the cruelest month for me.…

They kept me confused and distracted during the abortion, presumably to keep me from thinking about what I was taking part in. They had a mobile of silver birds right over me. A “counselor” held my hand and asked endless questions about college. The abortionist spoke in a monotone at the same time, giving a routine sounding distortion of what he was doing. Another woman stood next to him, watching his every move. I remember her peering between my legs with a disgusted look on her face. ”

…

Looking back at the impact of Bill Baird’s abortion profiteering on my life, it’s ironic that this herald of “compassion” and the “right to privacy” for all women should violate mine so grievously after my abortion. Baird threatened to make public my medical charts, called me a “secondary virgin” in a mocking manner, and added that my “problem” is that I “don’t get any sex.” (I later submitted an affidavit describing this incident, signed by myself and witnesses, to the local district attorney.)”

Kathleen Kelly “Victim of an Abortion Profiteer” Human Life International pamphlet (no date)

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A woman who had a baby on welfare describes her social worker’s attitude when she became pregnant a second time:

“After having our baby in May, a caseworker at the Department of Social Services made us feel like we’d been irresponsible for having a second child. She lectured Jim [her husband], telling him, “You can’t keep your wife barefoot and pregnant the rest of your life. You’d better do something about it.”

She wanted to stop us having children and insisted on making an appointment for us to go to Planned Parenthood for counseling and birth-control supplies – conveniently located right next door.

At the clinic, I was examined and told that I had a bacterial infection.… They decided that I couldn’t have any kind of birth control, so my husband became the target. The counselor told us that Jim had to have a vasectomy. They really put the pressure on him, making him feel like he was under an obligation to be sterilized. Of course, Medicaid would pay for it. (They were willing to do anything to keep “welfare folk” from reproducing.) We didn’t want to do it, but they told us there was a 50-50 chance the vasectomy could be reversed later when wanted more kids and had more money. Afraid we would have our finances cut off of we had another child, we went along with it…”

She then found out she was pregnant

“I was happy immediately. “All right!, I just knew it!”… When our caseworker found out that I was pregnant with our third child, she was just disgusted with us. She couldn’t believe that we had been so “irresponsible.” She urged us to have an abortion, saying, “You just can’t go around having babies the rest of your life.” After making us feel like dirt, she reassured us that Medicaid would pay for the abortion, and that we could always have children later.…

On August 18, 1975 I had an abortion. The doctor told me he would slowly dilate my cervix with a series of metal rods and suction out the “blob of jelly called fetal tissue.”

I wasn’t given anything for pain, the nurse had to hold me down. The nurse kept saying to me “it will be over in a minute, honey… Oh come on now, it doesn’t hurt that bad. Quit being such a baby!”

…

Afterwards, our caseworker didn’t ask about the abortion, or how I felt, she just wanted to know that I had it done.”

The woman had many problems with guilt after her abortion. She turned to drugs, and became abusive towards her other children. She dealt with extreme guilt, and eventually joined an organization dedicated to helping postabortion women.

David C Reardon Aborted Women: Silent No More (Westchester, Illinois: Crossway books, 1987) 273 – 276 

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A pro-choice book had the following story:

“Personally, I have had three abortions, all of which at the time seemed the only viable alternative. I didn’t have the courage to go through a pregnancy and have a baby without any support. For many years I have suffered severe anxiety, varying depths of depression and other effects. It is only since I recognized that I killed three of my children, actually giving them the dignity of human status that I have begun to find some peace.

When society insists that what you are doing is the “best” solution and refuses human status to your baby, you can’t identify the grief and guilt inside because you’re not “supposed” to be feeling them. “It was only a little bit of tissue after all.” May I assure you that the guilt can be overwhelming and the grief is as great, if not greater, than that of any woman who has lost a child at whatever stage of life.”

Rebecca M Albury Beyond the Slogans: the Politics of Reproduction (St. Leonard’s, NSW Australia: Allen & Unwin, 1999) 22

 

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One woman who regretted her abortion talked about how no one was there to help her when she became pregnant. What she really needed was a friend, someone to encourage her.

“It was weird. I didn’t want abortion. I didn’t want all that guilt again. But all the people at the abortion clinic were real helpful and friendly and tried to make you feel like you were doing the right thing. Nobody else in my life had tried to help me. Everybody else would just look down their noses at me for being pregnant. It seemed like the abortion clinic was the only place to find help.”

David C Reardon Aborted Women: Silent No More (Westchester, Illinois: Crossway books, 1987) 33

This woman’s story illustrates how important it is to just be a friend to women facing an unplanned pregnancy. It also speaks to how important crisis pregnancy centers are, these organizations that provide free counseling and help to women considering abortion. It’s also important that a single woman who is pregnant is not responded to with judgment and condemnation. Shame can push a woman into abortion.

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Dr. Alveda King, pro-life activist, describes how she was tricked into having an abortion she didn’t want.

“My involuntary abortion was performed just prior to the passage of Roe versus Wade by my private pro-abortion physician without my consent. I had gone to the doctor to ask why my cycle had not resumed after the birth of my son. I did not ask for, nor did I want an abortion.

The doctor said, “You don’t need to be pregnant, let’s see.” Without asking for my permission, he proceeded to perform a painful examination, which resulted in a gush of blood and tissue emanating from my womb. Afterwards, the doctor explained that he performed an abortion that he referred to as a simple procedure, “local D&C.”

She went on to have a legal abortion a number of years later:

“Soon after the Roe V Wade decision, I was again pregnant. There was adverse pressure and beyond this, a threat of violence from the baby’s father. The ease and convenience afforded through Roe versus Wade made it all too easy for me to make the fateful and fatal decision to abort our child. I went to a Planned Parenthood sanctioned doctor and was advised that the procedure would hurt no more than “having a tooth removed.”

The next day, I was admitted to the hospital, and our baby was aborted. My medical insurance paid for the procedure. As soon as I woke up, I knew that something was very wrong. I felt very ill, and very empty. I asked the doctors and nurses about the way I was feeling, but they reassured me, “it will go away in a few days. You will be fine.”

They lied.

Over the next few years, I experienced medical problems. I had trouble bonding with my son and his five siblings who were born after the abortions. I suffered from eating disorders, depression, nightmares, sexual dysfunctions, and a host of other issues related to the abortion that I chose to have.… I experienced uncontrollable waves of guilt over the abortion, I chose to have. The guilt made me very ill…

My children have all suffered from knowing that they have a brother or sister that their mother chose to abort. “You killed our baby.” Often they asked if I had ever thought about aborting them…

This has been and still is very painful for all of us. My mother and grandparents were very sad to learn about the loss of the baby. The aborted child’s father also regrets the abortions. If only I knew…

Had it not been for Roe versus Wade, I would never have had that second abortion.”

“How Can the Dream Survive If We Murder Our Children?” Dr. Alveda King in Doctor Alveda King and Dr.La Verne Tolbert Life at All Costs: an Anthology of Voices from 21^st-Century Black Pro-Life Leaders (Xlibris Corporation, 2012) 111, 131-132

 

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From one woman who had an abortion and regretted it.

“The more I thought about being pregnant, I realized there was a life in me, and I wanted to give birth to it. But my husband told me, “Either you have an abortion, or leave you. You can raise it by yourself, because I don’t want any more children.” Not being strong enough to do what was right, and to afraid to go it alone, I gave in.”

David C Reardon Aborted Women: Silent No More (Westchester, Illinois: Crossway books, 1987) 31

A survey of women who had abortions done by Reardon showed that well over half felt pressured into having an abortion by someone else, most commonly the baby’s father.

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“I remember the first time I heard someone say, “Having an abortion didn’t make me any less pregnant; it just made me a murderer, too.”

Oh how that ripped at my soul, and still does as it makes me come to the understanding that I am the mother of a dead child.”

Chaplain Ayesha Kreutz, post abortion woman

Doctor Alveda King and Dr.La Verne Tolbert Life at All Costs: an Anthology of Voices from 21^st-Century Black Pro-Life Leaders (Xlibris Corporation, 2012) 89

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From an African-American woman who got pregnant at 19 and decided to go to Planned Parenthood:

“We walked into the clinic and the lobby was empty. I approached the receptionist window and woman handed me paperwork to complete. A little while later, a black woman called my name and she escorted me into her office. She looked over my paperwork and told me I was still young, in school and I could worry about kids later.

This was the only advice and counsel I was given. She certainly did not try and persuade me into waiting a day or two to think about my decision. It was clear in her mind that what was about to take place was not a big deal, and she wanted to make sure I grabbed hold of that same mindset. She then moved me into another room and performed an ultrasound.

I asked her if I could see the screen, and she said, “No.” I asked, “Why not?” She said, “It’s against our policy.” Then she told me, “There’s nothing to see, it’s just tissue.” In that moment I should’ve put my clothes back on and walked out. She never talked with me about fetal development, the baby’s heartbeat, or adoption.

Before I knew it I was quickly swept into a sterile bright white room, greeted by a Filipino woman who asked me to climb onto the table. When the doctor came in, he had a mask on and I could only see his eyes. He told me to relax, I would receive a sedative, and I wouldn’t feel anything, and the procedure would not take long. It did seem as if the entire procedure was less than an hour.

I remember walking into the locker room and seeing at least 10 women sitting next to one another on a long bench. We all looked like zombies… Someone came in the room and offered us juice and cookies. I remember thanking the person and in my comatose state, I said, “You guys are really nice in here, you are treating us so well.”

I was deceived, delusional and out of my mind. I was in the lion’s den, and didn’t even know it.”

….

“I was 34 when I had my first molar/ectopic pregnancy. My OB/GYN told me I also had a lot of scar tissue in my fallopian tubes. Two years later at 36, I had a miscarriage, followed by another molar pregnancy at 37. At 38, I had a partial hysterectomy…

The woman from Planned Parenthood was right about one thing when she said, “You could worry about kids later.” Worry was now the operative word.”

Tegra Little “Worry about Children Later” in Doctor Alveda King and Dr.La Verne Tolbert Life at All Costs: an Anthology of Voices from 21^st-Century Black Pro-Life Leaders (Xlibris Corporation, 2012) 126 to 128

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