Is there a price for love? I paid a price when, during my late teens and early twenties, I abandoned my faith in God for life in the fast lane. I worked two jobs and partied at night. During this time, I met a man named “John” at work. I was instantly charmed.

We dated and became sexually intimate and although I felt shame, I still believed it was true love. Two years later, when my menstrual cycle was late, I panicked. Could I be pregnant? I’m not that late. Maybe I need more sleep. Maybe I’m working too much. I waited another week—still nothing. So I drove, scared and alone, to Planned Parenthood.

The clinic nurse tested my urine sample and announced: “You’re pregnant.” This can’t be! I’m on the pill. I’m too young. I’m not ready to be a mother.

After the shock, I told my parents, friends and coworkers the news. I began to daydream about my future little one, a marriage to John and a new life, but my “happily ever after” crumbled when John told me how he felt. “I love you and would love to have children with you,” he said. “But, now is not the right time.” I was stunned when he offered to pay for an abortion. Abortion! That’s killing our baby! You said you loved me! I loved John and couldn’t imagine losing him. A host of questions followed: Would John leave me if I keep the baby? If he leaves me, will another man ever love me? Will I become a single mom? Will John want to be a part of the baby’s life at all? What will my parents think?

I secretly hoped my boyfriend would change his mind, but a week later, he was still unmoved. In desperate need of his love and approval, I called several abortion clinics. Each counselor said it was an “easy procedure” and explained the fees. Against my deepest convictions, I made an appointment.

While John drove to me the abortion clinic, I sat silent and numb while grieving. John waited for me and a nurse led me into a sterile room, gave me two Motrin, a cup of lukewarm water and questioned me about my decision. Unable to speak, I answered with “yes” and “no” and tried to hide my pain. We moved to the procedure room and I was given a cotton gown and feminine pad for bleeding. I put on the gown and waited for the doctor, frozen with fear. I wanted to run but it was too late.

The procedure was not “easy” as promised. I tried to block out the suction noises and intense pressure I felt inside my body, but couldn’t. My mind went blank. The abortion was over in only ten minutes, yet it felt like a lifetime. I held in an ocean of sorrow and allowed only a few tears to fall.

During the procedure, two nurses and the doctor chatted as if it was just another sunny day. I felt as if I was trapped and naked in the world’s worst ice storm. Then, the doctor glibly said, “You’re all done. I got everything.” There was no mention of a life or a baby. Within a few minutes, I was released to go home. John greeted me with a gentle smile, but I immediately felt less love for him. You did this to me! This was your brilliant idea. I can’t believe I did this for YOU! So this is love, huh? This is what loves does; it kills a precious unborn baby?

I tried to bury the experience and move on with life, but it was impossible. I felt alone, evil and ashamed. I knew abortion was wrong, but I did it anyway, all in the name of “love!” The following Monday, I lied to my coworkers. “I lost the baby because of stress.” My thoughts careened out of control. I chose to take the life of my baby. I’m a murderer. Who can I tell? What will they think of me?

I told the truth to my two closest friends and my parents. They listened and loved me through my grief. However, the guilt and shame remained. Two months later, I still resented John for the abortion, so I let him go. I still felt a sick love for him and I knew I needed time for my heart to heal. I didn’t take that much-needed time. Instead, I quickly married my husband, Derek. Derek knew about my abortion, but didn’t understand how much it affected my behavior.

My heavy bags of guilt and shame created a weekly crisis. A year later, divorced loomed so we moved out of state and hoped for a fresh start. From then on, I buried my abortion experience as a dark secret. Although I recommitted myself to God, attended church regularly, prayed, did Bible studies, and served as a greeter, I still felt shame and guilt.

Fifteen years have passed and only recently have I experienced emotional and spiritual freedom. I share my story, not to exalt my pain, but to exalt God, who heals. I want to encourage women with similar pasts because many post-abortive women feel they’re the “only one.” And, I want to share keys to open the door to God’s healing and hope.

Key 1:  Believe God’s Word and Receive Forgiveness

As I believed God’s Word, my heart was transformed. I recognized a lie that enslaved me: Tiffany, you’ve committed an unforgivable sin. Because I believed this lie, I wore self-hatred like a turtleneck that choked God’s truth from penetrating my broken heart. I also thought I was a forgiving person until the Lord asked me to forgive myself. Colossians 3:13 ministered to me, “Forgive as the Lord forgives you." That includes forgiving myself. 1 John 1:9 was also healing. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” The apostle John didn’t say that God might forgive, but He will forgive. Will you believe and receive His forgiveness?

Key 2: Accept God’s Unconditional Love

I bought the lie that God couldn’t love me after my abortion. God also helped me to combat this lie with His truth. Romans 8:38 says: “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present, nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.” Nothing separates us from God’s unconditional love—not even abortion.

Key 3: Confess Your Sin

Part of the healing means sharing your abortion with at least one person you trust. You can pray and ask God to give bring you someone. Confession releases us from the bondage of secrecy. I knew God wanted me to share my abortion secret with those closest to me, but I was afraid. Years passed and I couldn’t ignore my burning desire to tell the truth. When I finally found the courage to share with closest friends, I experienced compassion, love and acceptance. Some of them even cried with me. The condemnation and rejection I dreaded never came. James 5:16 says, “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.”

Key 4:  Remember God is not a Punishing God

I’ve often thought there should be a lifelong consequence for my sin. When I had a miscarriage nine years ago and also last year when I had two abnormal pap tests, I thought, I deserve this. This happened because of my abortion. On one occasion, a close friend heard my unspoken thoughts, “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking? Remember, God is not a punishing God. He forgave you.” My fears were silenced by her comforting words.

Key 5: Focus on the Price Christ Paid

So, is there a price for love? Yes, and Christ paid the price when he died on the cross. Because of His sacrifice, no sin is too great to keep me from the deepest love I can know. He doesn’t keep a record of my wrongs. His love never ends. He loves me as I am. He loves you as you are.

Tiffany Stuart is a freelance writer who has a passion to minister to women. She lives in Colorado.