A postabortion woman wrote the following letter to her aborted baby, who she named Grace:
“Everyone close to me was affected by that awful day – none more so than you and I though. We were in this sad nightmare together, weren’t we? I felt very depressed after I let you go – many days were hard to face, some I didn’t. I told myself it was hormones. I was told to expect this by the terribly cold staff at the clinic – the ones that sent me into a tiny cubicle with a pad, a paper gown and said, “Wait till we come and get you.” They don’t even look at you in the eye. They don’t seem to know your pain, and I hope they really don’t understand what they are doing.
They put my legs in stirrups and got out their vacuum but forgot to tell me how much I would miss you. How this day would never go away. How I would dream about you eight years after that day. They forgot to tell me how I would get to the day when even making a cup of tea would make me cry because the memories refused to go away. But I don’t really blame them Grace – it was me.
After a few months I went into denial… I can’t tell you what I thought in the many years in between – the truth is that I tried to forget. I tried very hard not to think about you at all. You crept up on me at times and sent me into a spin, but only temporarily – I would shut down and move. In my heart I knew you were always there though.
So why now Grace?… Was it because I had a little girl? Is it because my family on this earth is complete? Or was my time up? I don’t know the answer for sure, maybe it was all these things…
I didn’t want to give you an identity for fear it would undo me. Grace seemed a natural name for you.… I hope you like it.”
Anne R Lastman Redeeming Grief: Abortion and Its Pain (Balwyn, Vic: Australia: Gracewing, 2013) 43 – 44
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