As a teenager, I assumed legalized abortion was necessary for women to attain their educational and career goals. So it's not surprising that when I became pregnant at 18, I thought about having an abortion. The abortion would allow me to continue teaching ballroom dance and training for competition.

The idea of adoption did cross my mind. I knew I wasn't ready to parent, but I thought perhaps I could delay my career for the nine months or so that it would take me to carry the baby to term.

My 28-year-old live-in boyfriend was furious when he discovered I was pregnant. He immediately demanded that I have an abortion. When I brought up the possibility of adoption, he yelled at me.

He said he wasn’t going to let his colleagues see him with a pregnant girlfriend. He threatened to kick me out. I sobbed uncontrollably—I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

In an instant, I realized how stupid I’d been.

Even though I'd met him just a few months earlier while he was visiting our mutual friend, I believed him when he said he loved me. I was so flattered when he urged me to move in with him. Without any more thought, I sought a job at a dance studio near his house, packed my belongings, and moved to another state.

I couldn't go back to my parents now! I knew they would support me if I carried the baby to term, but I was desperate to make it on my own. The thought of returning home was utterly humiliating. On the other hand, my naiveté concerning this guy was equally humiliating.

I didn't have any other friends or contacts in the area, so I decided to seek advice from the studio manager. After I told her about my situation, she recommended abortion. She said it was the only logical option and offered to arrange one for me. I numbly nodded my head, and she made some calls. I left her office with the date and time of the appointment and an arranged ride from my supervisor.

My experience at the abortion clinic was painful and humiliating—nothing like I’d imagined. Although the young women awaiting their abortions were anxious and tearful, the clinic staff was cold and aloof.

As I lay alone in the procedure room, I could hear footsteps move down the hall and turn in to a room. This was repeated several times, each time the footsteps were louder and closer. My anxiety steadily built and then peaked when the abortion provider and her assistant entered my room. It was not an empowering experience.

I was completely unprepared for the emotional fallout after the abortion. I thought the abortion would erase the pregnancy. I thought I could move on with my life. I was wrong.

Although I didn’t feel this way before the procedure, it was now clear to me that the abortion ended the life of my child. I felt guilty and desired punishment. I deserved to suffer. The mere presence of my boyfriend caused deep hurt and pain. I found it difficult to work. In between student lessons, I’d retreat to the staff room and cry.

I soon found myself in a cycle of self-destructive behavior that included an eating disorder. Desperate for a fresh start, I broke up with my boyfriend, quit my job, and moved from the Midwest to Hawaii. Although Hawaii was breathtakingly beautiful and bursting with life, I felt dead inside. It didn’t take long for me to realize I couldn’t escape from myself.

My experience brought me to church, but I wasn’t sure that Jesus could forgive me or that he should forgive me. I often found myself thinking that if people in church knew what I had done, they wouldn’t shake my hand—and certainly wouldn't sit next to me. Sometimes my guilt over the abortion increased because I wasn't able to experience Jesus' forgiveness.

About two years after the abortion, I was living in Southern California when I began experiencing periods of intense anger followed by periods of profound sadness. For weeks and sometimes months at a time, I was too fatigued to do more than eat a meal and shower during the day. I lost interest in food, and my weight fell dangerously low. There were also periods when I seemed able to pull myself together and lead a normal life—at least outwardly.

I saw a number of doctors for the fatigue and weight loss. They tested me for everything from lupus to cancer to AIDS. I didn’t tell them about the feelings I was having as a result of the abortion. I didn't see a connection between the abortion and my current physical symptoms.

This downward spiral continued until suicidal thoughts began to scare me. That's when I finally attended an after abortion healing weekend workshop recommended by my church that was offered by a local pregnancy center. I also went to see a therapist.

Experiencing the support and encouragement from those who now knew my secret helped tremendously. Realizing that I wasn't the only one having difficulty after an abortion significantly reduced the anxiety I felt. This helped me not only to grieve the loss of my child, but also to identify my unhealthy behaviors. It took me several more years to finish my journey to wholeness, but things progressively improved, as I learned to act on the truth of God's mercy and redemptive grace.

As I grieved the loss of my child, I slowly became aware of how my choice to abort had impacted my family. A choice they only learned about when I decided to go public with my experience. I was surprised and saddened that my parents, my sister, and even my living children struggled to deal with the loss of a family member through abortion.

In addition to coping with the fallout that the abortion has caused in my family, there are still times that are painful for me. After all, healing doesn't mean forgetting. Attending Mother's Day service at church is particularly difficult.

The year my child would have graduated from high school was also filled with pain. My best friend's daughter graduated that year. Each time she talked about senior class activities, I was reminded that my child would not be participating.

If my child had gone to college, she would have graduated this year. This child would now be a young woman with gifts and abilities, hopes and dreams… her whole life ahead of her. There will always be a hole in my heart—a hole in the fabric of our family and our community.

The miracle of redemption is that in spite of all that, God loves me and forgives me and He even lets me partner with him to reach others with His message of hope and healing.

© 2008 by Perspectives

More articles in this series

Changed
Over the years I’ve heard many heartrending stories about abortion. Although each story is unique, a common thread moves through them all – abortion changes you.

Abortion Changes You
Sharing the real experiences of real people can be a starting place for those seeking healing and for those wishing to assist others through the grieving process.

Can We Talk About It?
How do you reach out to someone you love without causing more pain?

My Child Would Have Been 22 This Year
I was completely unprepared for the emotional fallout after the abortion. I thought the abortion would erase the pregnancy. I thought I could move on with my life. I was wrong.

Excerpted from "Changed: Making Sense of Your Own or A Loved One's Abortion Experience." Whether you have personally experienced abortion, someone close to you has, or you are seeking to sensitively and compassionately communicate with others about abortion – this book is a safe place to begin. "Changed" provides a place that is set apart from politics, from labels, from debate. It conveys the real experiences of real people. It is also a starting place for those seeking healing and for those wishing to assist others through the grieving process. Learn more at www.abortionchangesyou.com.

Related Resources

A Time to Speak
A Healing Journal for Post-Abortive Women
Yvonne Florczak-Seeman
Twelve true stories expose 12 myths of abortion in this compassionate guide into healing. Each chapter begins with one woman's story, then moves through questions for reflection, a thought for "going deeper," a love letter from God, and open space called "Your Time to Speak."

Hear My Voice: Holly's Story
A Journey to Freedom and Hope
DVD
Feel with Holly the depression, remorse and alienation from her friends she endures after she aborts her baby. Savor, too, the acceptance, forgiveness and hope she finds at a crisis pregnancy center.

A Solitary Sorrow
Finding Healing & Wholeness After Abortion
Teri Reisser
More than 1 million women in America have abortions each year. Unfortunately, rarely do these women have the chance to face and work through the deep emotional wounds that remain. In A Solitary Sorrow, the authors address women's intensely personal struggles and help them find reconciliation, hope and healing after an abortion. The paperback is also complete with personal stories and a list of other helpful resources.

Men and Abortion
A Path to Healing
Dr. C.T. Coyle
Abortion's aftermath upon American men has been largely ignored, depriving them of much-needed help to forgive everyone involved in their abortion experience, including themselves. This guidance will help men express their grief, exchange it for hope and healing, and be in a position to help others.