America knows the collective pain of abortion is a heavy burden no free and prosperous nation can carry forever
– Rep. Marsha Blackburn
Someone you know, who always posts great articles, videos and pictures, puts up another link on their page. You open it and it stays as a tab on your browser for a few days, then a week and maybe even two weeks (or more). You never close it though and it pops up each day as you open up your computer because you just know it’s going to be worth reading. Eventually, you get around to reading it. This evening, I got around to reading an article which Robert Colquhoun, who runs 40 Days For Life in the UK, posted on Facebook. It knocked me for six. I read a lot of pro-life blog posts and articles, but this one struck a cord with me because it hit home how damaged we are, as a country and as a society, because of abortion. 1 in 3 women in the UK have aborted their baby. Sometimes, when I’m in a room with three or more other women of child-bearing age, I think about this. Obviously, I don’t say anything, but I try to put myself in their shoes. Do they think about their abortion? What is their life like now? How do they feel about abortion? Are they secretly pro-life or have they convinced themselves that it was all for the best? Do you ever forget?
I find it strange that I walk around, going about my life, with women who have had their babies killed for them (I know I put this bluntly, but this is the reality of the situation). I’ve known about abortion ever since I could possibly understand the concept and I still can’t get over this. How do you ever recover? I find it so unfair that those who identify as ‘pro-choice’ (I hate this term with a passion, by the way. You are not pro-choice. You are not pro every choice in life, you are pro-abortion) tout abortion as part of women’s ‘liberation’. I don’t see a liberated society. There are a lot of angry and extremely sad women out there who have convinced themselves that killing their unborn children means they have finally been set free. I believe that many of them are being driven mad by their past abortion(s). That is the only logical conclusion for me, because this behaviour, shown in the video below (a pro-abortion ‘Feminist’ march in Argentina, attacking the defenders of the Catholic cathedral who stood guarding it in anticipation of the march), is not normal. Their behaviour makes me angry, but when you consider the lie that they are trying to believe, should we be surprised when their feelings are expressed like this?
(LifeSiteNews article with video here)
Of course, not all women express their feelings about their abortions in this way. Our society is not quite that terrifying…yet (though come along to any given 40 Days For Life vigil and you will see similar behaviour when the pro-abortion protestors arrive). The post that I read was written by a woman who, like many other post-abortive women, sometimes feels consumed by her guilt and sadness, even though she tried block out the memory of her abortion.
How The Nine Days Of Prayers Comforted Me While I Fought Demons…January 19, 2013 By The Crescat
… With the upcoming March For Life, the topic of abortion seems to be every where at the moment. Because of this it’s been on my mind daily. Perhaps these daily reminders is what triggered the event that happened this morning.
My first waking thought hit me like a sledge hammer and I was instantly transported back ten years. I was standing alone in a sterile room wearing a hospital gown. In my hand was the sheet that I had pulled back off the portable suction machine that sat in the corner. Memories I thought I had drown bubbled up despite mentally wrestling with myself for years to un-see them.
What I am about to write next is horrifically graphic. I’d been debating with myself all day whether or not I should share this memory or just stuff it back down in the murky recesses of my addled brain but then I was reminded of something Elizabeth Scalia wrote.
And somehow, I can’t imagine that any of our elite female voices — the ones who, in every election year, can be counted on to take up the fake “war on women” mantras and tape PSA’s about “keeping abortion legal” because it “empowers women” — have any sense of the realities of these under-inspected, under-reported hell-holes, where the only ones being empowered are the profiteers.
And a hell hole it was. There is no way to advocate what I am about to describe. None. There is no reason, no exception, no situation in which what I saw could possibly be rationalized away as a “reproductive right” or an acceptable choice.
**** If you’re post-abortive what you are about to read might be too graphic and upsetting.****
I encourage you only to proceed with great caution. Please know I don’t write this to cause you any pain. I write this post so that people who advocate abortion can read what it is exactly they are advocating.
I remember thinking it looked like a regular vacuum cleaner with a glass canister which allowed me to see the contents. I clutched the sheet that covered the vacuum in my hand and stood staring at it for quite some time trying to decide if what I as seeing was real. I just couldn’t comprehend it. Why would any one leave that there, like that, for a patient to see? I kept thinking, surely this was a mistake and any minute an apologetic staff member would come in and take it away. Someone was careless and just forgot to clean up after themselves. Yeah, that was it. Why else would I have been left alone in the room with that thing?
The glass container was half full and splattered with blood. Even the tube that fed into the container was crusted with blood. What I saw inside the collection container defies belief, little baby parts swimming in a bloody muck. All those graphic photos you’ve ever seen of tiny dismembered arms and legs are accurate. Only this wasn’t just one set of tiny arms and legs… this was more than I could count. This wasn’t just one baby that was aborted and some careless worker forget to remove from the room. This looked like all the babies that had been aborted that day. All together in one glass container, swimming in a gruesome soup of blood and bits. They hadn’t even bothered to clean the equipment between patients and I suddenly realized they had every intention of using the same filthy equipment on me.
What happened next was sheer panic. I never wanted to have an abortion, I was just stupid and believed there was no other choice. No other way. And it was just a clot. A big menstrual clot. That’s what they told me. Yet that glass container told me otherwise. And I suddenly felt every urge to run from the room screaming, but I was frozen in place. When a staff member came back into the room she found me still standing there clutching that sheet and staring at the vacuum.
Something inside me clicked off and I mentally shut down. I allowed her to guide me to the table and the procedure was started. When the abortionist [I will never call them doctors] came into the room he didn’t even acknowledge me but when he wheeled that vacuum over toward the table and switched it on I sat upright and tried to jump off the table. No hell no, I thought. But it was too late.
And this is what I remembered this morning. My first waking thought that greeted me at dawn. The memory of the “nurse” growing impatient with me and the abortionists barking at me to lay still. And then my ears where filled with the wet suctioning sound of that hideous vacuum aspiration machine.
I had completely forgotten, until this morning, that when it was all over I made myself look at that thing again. As the staff member held my arm and steadied me out of the room I reached over and yanked the sheet off again. I made myself look at that blood filled glass canister. Somewhere in their was my child and he/she deserved to have me be haunted with the memory of what I had done and where I had left him/her. I remembered thinking to myself, “Don’t you ever forget what you’ve done. You don’t deserve to forget”.
But I did forget. Not right away. I was suicidal for months after, drinking and consuming every pill I could find. I took the entire contents of mine and my roommate’s medicine cabinet one night. All I did was sleep for two days straight and no one checked on me. I think it was during that time that I eventually managed to bury those memories.
For whatever reason they chose today to pop back up. But instead of feeling hopelessly lost in that old dark abyss something different overcame me. Not a peace. No. I don’t think that I will ever know true peace. It was a comforting feeling. Like a hundred people praying for me right at that exact moment. Then I checked my email and I realized that they were. Today marks the beginning of the 9 Days of Prayer, Penance and Pilgrimage sponsored by USCCB.
“For the mother who awakens each morning with the memory of abortion fresh in her mind: that the Lord may still the terror in her heart and lead her gently to the well-spring of his love and mercy in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.”
I don’t know what God means to do with me and my horrible memories but whatever it is at least He timed it perfectly so that I have prayers to help me cope. I swear, if it had not been for that email I might have been swallowed whole by despair. If you are currently participating in the nine days of prayer and happened to pray today for post-abortive women to find healing I want to extend my thanks to you. Your prayers were felt and very much needed.
Dear Catholic Church, her members and leaders, thank you. Thank you for caring. Thank you for not giving up on us. And if you are post-abortive and can feel the tides of despair rising please please please seek out the folks at Project Rachel. Right now.And lastly, please let us never stop praying for each other.
Now, some people will point me to http://www.imnotsorry.net/ and they’ll tell me that not every woman regrets having her unborn baby killed (no doubt I will also get angry comments from pro-lifers who will tell me that I don’t know what I’m talking about, I’m doing so much damage to the cause etc etc & repeat). I don’t believe that. I think it will come out sooner or later and that many women will suffer in silence for years because they don’t believe that they have the right or that they even want to grieve for the child that they asked to abort. I believe that, though women are often unbelievably emotionally strong and resilient, we are not robots and an abortion does not take place without painful repercussions.
A couple of weeks ago, I was sat watching the Channel 4 news with my sister. My sister told me that the newsreader had written an article in the Telegraph, talking about how she had aborted her disabled unborn child. As I watched the screen, I found it so strange that I was looking into the face of a woman who had asked a doctor to kill her child. That sounds odd because I must look at post-abortive women most days, but I kept thinking how strange it was that I knew with her. We walk past these women, but we have no idea how they have been changed or what they are going through. If you have ever taken part in a vigil outside an abortion clinic, I think you will be struck, as I am, by how normal everyone looks. Women walk in pregnant, and walk out the mothers of dead babies. All the while, the damage is hidden* and it may never be expressed or even acknowledged. I think that, along with a huge boost in material support for women in crisis pregnancies, many many more of us need to take part in peaceful, prayerful vigils, always reaching out in love to those considering abortion, as well as post-abortive women. As the brave post above demonstrated, we can never know the pain they are in.
To learn more about stories of men and women hurt by abortion, visit http://mariecopes.wordpress.com/
*There are, of course, many cases of women physically damaged by legal abortion.