There's a perpetual child within me. She cries. Not all the time. But she's crying now. Why is there a child in me? Why is she crying? I want to let her out. Yet, I want to keep her within me.
It's been three years since my breakdown of January 2014. I am not sure where to start. As the breadown did not just happen at once out of the blue. But rather gradually, until it just blew.
While I do try to avoid mentioning identifiers about myself. I think I need to mention that I used to do seamstress work from out of my home. I think that may be a good place to start.
I had left my full time job to do sewing and alterations work from home. I had been doing that during my off time from work. Business had been picking up, before quitting the regular job. There were a few lulls and pick ups.
Sometimes the lulls would be quite long. Being short on money and not knowing where my next meal was coming from could cause little breakdowns themselves. When I had the good pick ups and would be paid well it would be a balancing act between purchasing quality supplies for future projects and food.
My specialty was alterations on bridal and formal. Though I did work on most any type of sewing; from lightweight simple repairs to heavy-duty heavyweight fabrics.
The formal work was the best. I thoroughly enjoyed working with the clients, their friends and mothers.
Yet, I think the connections with the clients may have been the lead in to my break down. Ever since the abortions, in certain ways, I was perpetually young. On a subconscious way I didn't see myself aging into someone old enough to have a teen child.
Yet it was while I would be having conversations with the mothers. We would talking about basic news, local issues, politics, music from when we were younger, how things were different when we were kids and teens. Then it hit me, I was older than I felt.
It still took a while to make the connection that not only was I old enough to have children who were teenagers. I was supposed to have teenage children! I can pinpoint the moment it dawned on me that I should have teenage girls. There I was standing at the kitchen sink. Washing dishes.
All of a sudden I found myself saying something to the effect of "my child is going to college." Where did that come from? Can't remember if I said it aloud, mumbled under my breath, moved my lips without vocalization, or just a strong thought. But there it was. Not only was I talking to myself, I was talking nonsense that wasn't even relevant to my life! Then I said, "my daughter is getting ready for prom." Still didn't click yet, in regards to my past.
This would have been about January of 2014. I ended up catching a cold or the flu. Or something. Decided to rest up on the sofa. Even after coming over the sickness, I still just couldn't do anything. If I got the snow shoveled, I was good for the day. Didn't even have the desire to do any sewing.
Fortunately I didn't have any customer projects that needed done. Oddly, before this time I would be all excited to take a call for a new project. Not anymore. When the phone would ring I would avoid answering and letting it go straight to voicemail. Figuring I would listen to the message later. Couldn't feel up to that. I did not want to deal with people.
There was this feeling I couldn't explain. I felt as though I were trapped within myself. I wanted to jump out of my body and run far away from myself. Yet, I wanted to hide farther within myself. I felt as though I was crying within myself. While no physical tears were released. It was as if there was a small child within me crying.
Then, it was while laying on the sofa, for some reason I decided to Google D&C abortions. Not sure what compelled me to do that. That, that, that is the moment EVERYTHING finally clicked! No, this was not a happy moment. Not at all. D&C was the type of procedure for the second abortion.
All the memories kept flooding back. It all came full circle. I remembered the abortions. It still did not feel like a memory of something that happened to me. More in the vein of being outside of myself. Remembering that it happened to a young twenty something woman I once knew.
I began to search for as much information about abortion as I could. Still can't say why. I knew I needed help and healing. But where to look? I knew about pro-life organizations that want to end abortion. Was using all kinds of search words. In my searching I did find a few sites for healing. Some were of words of encouragement. Some gave words of help to healing. There were even a few organizations that helped directly, such as Rachel's Vineyard. Some where one could write and/or call to talk with someone.
I was not ready to take that step. What would I say? How would I even begin?
This is not the end...
Showing posts with label Regrets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Regrets. Show all posts
Sunday, January 15, 2017
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Sewing the Seams of Healing
Way back in April of this year I wrote about my teddy bear with the seam rip in the neck. He's been fixed! Probably about a couple weeks ago. I hand stitched the seams together. It was rather bittersweet while I was sewing. There was a feeling of happiness that he would be all fixed up and better. Yet, I couldn't help but feel a bit of sadness. I couldn't pinpoint the cause or why.
Perhaps my bittersweet feelings are due to my own broken seams. My broken and busted seams. Yes, after 20 years I have finally pinpointed the hurt and despair caused by the abortions. And really, knowing the cause is not only the first step in healing, but it is also three quarters or more of the healing. Once the cause of deep seated old hurt is located, the healing can be begin.
Not saying it is sunshine, lollipops, rainbows, roses, and pink unicorns flying out my butt. In fact more like a Generation X kid scraping their knee and grandpa putting Mercurochrome on it. All the while telling you "it won't hurt. I used this as a kid, fought in World War II and I'm still alive. You'll survive." Yeah, no. It stings. It stings like hell.
Back to the healing. That first moment of realizing what has been "wrong with you" for all those years is a definite sting. You could be in the middle of the most mundane household chore or running errands and bam! out of nowhere the memory hits. Smacks you up like you have been smacked in the face by an anvil. Or at least that's how it happened for me.
As you can see from the photo above of the teddy bear (still no name for him). He still has a few places that need some more repairs. Those are his scars. Those scars give him character. They show the many years of love. I too have scars. Perhaps my scars give me character too. But those scars sure as hell ain't from love. Lust, maybe, but most definitely not love.
I have more thoughts on my healing process, but I can't really bring them to focus and arrange in a cohesive manner. Plus it might run off to be a bit off topic from this post. I will add a part two or three or four or more to this. Let the healing begin!
Teddy bear all fixed and better!
Perhaps my bittersweet feelings are due to my own broken seams. My broken and busted seams. Yes, after 20 years I have finally pinpointed the hurt and despair caused by the abortions. And really, knowing the cause is not only the first step in healing, but it is also three quarters or more of the healing. Once the cause of deep seated old hurt is located, the healing can be begin.
Not saying it is sunshine, lollipops, rainbows, roses, and pink unicorns flying out my butt. In fact more like a Generation X kid scraping their knee and grandpa putting Mercurochrome on it. All the while telling you "it won't hurt. I used this as a kid, fought in World War II and I'm still alive. You'll survive." Yeah, no. It stings. It stings like hell.
Back to the healing. That first moment of realizing what has been "wrong with you" for all those years is a definite sting. You could be in the middle of the most mundane household chore or running errands and bam! out of nowhere the memory hits. Smacks you up like you have been smacked in the face by an anvil. Or at least that's how it happened for me.
As you can see from the photo above of the teddy bear (still no name for him). He still has a few places that need some more repairs. Those are his scars. Those scars give him character. They show the many years of love. I too have scars. Perhaps my scars give me character too. But those scars sure as hell ain't from love. Lust, maybe, but most definitely not love.
I have more thoughts on my healing process, but I can't really bring them to focus and arrange in a cohesive manner. Plus it might run off to be a bit off topic from this post. I will add a part two or three or four or more to this. Let the healing begin!
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
My Name is Kathy, I Live in Michigan
In May I was considering coming out of the closet, the abortion closet that is. I was contemplating letting friends and family know I have had two abortions. With much fear, I came out. Is it freeing? Perhaps. But maybe not. What made me finally decide to do it? Issues with my mother.
How did I do it? Due to issues with my mother I was texting with an out of state friend. I was feeling stressed. I decided right then and there the truth needed to be told. I wanted to shout it out on Facebook. I needed to shout it out somewhere. I felt like I was going to burst! Problem was, my internet access was down at the time. After much prayerful thought I gave my friend the go ahead to post to my wall. It was scary. I did not know if I was doing the right thing or not. All I could do was trust in God. Many of my friends are pro-life. I even have a few family members on Facebook. I was afraid they may think of me as a bad person - not for having the abortion - but for letting out the secret. Even though they did not know at the time. I was afraid they would tell my mother. And my mother would get upset at me, for revealing thesecret sin. I did receive support in comments. The friend who posted was kind enough to share said comments.
Why am I not so sure if it is freeing? As I said above, there is that fear of what people would think. I was afraid of loosing friends on Facebook. But at the same time if they are going to stop being friends because of a past abortion sin then they were probably never friends. In some ways I do want to lose friends. I feel I don't deserve friends. I feel I deserve to be left alone.
Why did I do it? It needs to be done. The pro-abortion side is going into overdrive with their agenda. Using TV and popular culture to make abortion look cool and normal. Attacking pro-life movements outright. Also, I felt stifled in my talking about pro-life issues. I would start to talk about something and then feel like I would need to hold back. I was afraid of others wondering how I would know anything about what it is really like for a post abortive woman. I was afraid of them knowing I was post abortive. When reading comments to posts from pro-life pages on social media I would see nasty judgmental comments. I would want to respond. I would overthink on how to reply and try to sound as impersonal as possible. One of the many specifics I have wanted to talk about is how I think the "doctor" from the second abortion is somewhat a Kermit Gosnell of Michigan. I want to be able to share the pro-life books I have read, here on this blog and on Facebook, without anyone getting suspicious. If everyone knows who I am, there is no reason to fear. And not having fear is how I can tackle the pro-abortion side.
How did I do it? Due to issues with my mother I was texting with an out of state friend. I was feeling stressed. I decided right then and there the truth needed to be told. I wanted to shout it out on Facebook. I needed to shout it out somewhere. I felt like I was going to burst! Problem was, my internet access was down at the time. After much prayerful thought I gave my friend the go ahead to post to my wall. It was scary. I did not know if I was doing the right thing or not. All I could do was trust in God. Many of my friends are pro-life. I even have a few family members on Facebook. I was afraid they may think of me as a bad person - not for having the abortion - but for letting out the secret. Even though they did not know at the time. I was afraid they would tell my mother. And my mother would get upset at me, for revealing the
Why am I not so sure if it is freeing? As I said above, there is that fear of what people would think. I was afraid of loosing friends on Facebook. But at the same time if they are going to stop being friends because of a past abortion sin then they were probably never friends. In some ways I do want to lose friends. I feel I don't deserve friends. I feel I deserve to be left alone.
Why did I do it? It needs to be done. The pro-abortion side is going into overdrive with their agenda. Using TV and popular culture to make abortion look cool and normal. Attacking pro-life movements outright. Also, I felt stifled in my talking about pro-life issues. I would start to talk about something and then feel like I would need to hold back. I was afraid of others wondering how I would know anything about what it is really like for a post abortive woman. I was afraid of them knowing I was post abortive. When reading comments to posts from pro-life pages on social media I would see nasty judgmental comments. I would want to respond. I would overthink on how to reply and try to sound as impersonal as possible. One of the many specifics I have wanted to talk about is how I think the "doctor" from the second abortion is somewhat a Kermit Gosnell of Michigan. I want to be able to share the pro-life books I have read, here on this blog and on Facebook, without anyone getting suspicious. If everyone knows who I am, there is no reason to fear. And not having fear is how I can tackle the pro-abortion side.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Coming Out of the Pro-Life Closet
I am torn. In the post "Do You Know Me?" I had mentioned that a friend expressed an interest in posting some of my posts/about my blog at their church's Facebook page. I am somewhat leaning that way. But still not ready to do that, yet. They would not reveal me as the writer. But I am still apprehensive about being "recognized." I would like to think that if anyone were to realize it was written by me they would not judge or think less of me. And hopefully they would not ask me about it, nor ask the friend if it is me.
Even though there have been times I have considered posting a new post to my Facebook I don't think I am able to do that. I would still post as though it were just something I came across online. Which wouldn't be too far off. As I do post about pro-life issues. Yet my friends, and family too would wonder why not only I was posting a story about "a woman who has had abortions" but that the whole blog was the telling of the "woman who has had the abortions" from her own view.
I have one friend who is not only adamantly pro-life, but can also be harsh towards women who have had abortions. This person once posted to Facebook an article about Norma McCorvey, "Jane Roe" from the Roe v. Wade Supreme Court case. They called her a b&**% and said that "she should rot in hell." Funny thing is, that the article they posted was from a pro-life website where she was talking about revealing her connection to Roe v. Wade, how she is now pro-life and her activism to stopping abortion. Did "FB Friend" even read the article or watch the accompanying video?
Of course I could block this person from seeing any of the posts. But I still, how would others react? I know I have other pro-life friends. And they have posted pro-life related items. While their reactions are not quite as extreme as above described person, they have expressed a dislike for women having abortions and not understanding how someone could have abortions. Although, they have not alluded to a dislike for the women themselves. But I do wonder what is in their hearts?
I did talk today with the friend who is the administrator of their church's Facebook page about possibly revealing the blog, but not my "real name." They said it would be up to me and would not do anything without me expressly giving the go ahead. This is something I would have to think long and hard about and DEFINITELY pray over before I made a decision. Once I go forward, I can't go back. Plus, I would not want to put them in the compromising situation of having to answer any questions should someone ask "about the author of "Abortions Sucks!".
Even though there have been times I have considered posting a new post to my Facebook I don't think I am able to do that. I would still post as though it were just something I came across online. Which wouldn't be too far off. As I do post about pro-life issues. Yet my friends, and family too would wonder why not only I was posting a story about "a woman who has had abortions" but that the whole blog was the telling of the "woman who has had the abortions" from her own view.
I have one friend who is not only adamantly pro-life, but can also be harsh towards women who have had abortions. This person once posted to Facebook an article about Norma McCorvey, "Jane Roe" from the Roe v. Wade Supreme Court case. They called her a b&**% and said that "she should rot in hell." Funny thing is, that the article they posted was from a pro-life website where she was talking about revealing her connection to Roe v. Wade, how she is now pro-life and her activism to stopping abortion. Did "FB Friend" even read the article or watch the accompanying video?
Of course I could block this person from seeing any of the posts. But I still, how would others react? I know I have other pro-life friends. And they have posted pro-life related items. While their reactions are not quite as extreme as above described person, they have expressed a dislike for women having abortions and not understanding how someone could have abortions. Although, they have not alluded to a dislike for the women themselves. But I do wonder what is in their hearts?
I did talk today with the friend who is the administrator of their church's Facebook page about possibly revealing the blog, but not my "real name." They said it would be up to me and would not do anything without me expressly giving the go ahead. This is something I would have to think long and hard about and DEFINITELY pray over before I made a decision. Once I go forward, I can't go back. Plus, I would not want to put them in the compromising situation of having to answer any questions should someone ask "about the author of "Abortions Sucks!".
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Which is the Real Punishment; Baby or Abortion?
I was thinking about the comment President Barack Obama made regarding not wanting his daughters to be "punished with a baby," in 2008, during his first presidential election.
While I try to leave political views out of my posts I believe in looking at all angles of an issue. I am not one to get my information from just one source or the other. I refuse to focus on information that leans to one agenda or the other. So I decided to refresh myself with the segment of his speech through a Google search. Supposedly, he wasn't talking about abortion or supporting getting abortions for his daughters. I watched the video clip, read the "explanations" from both sides. Yeah, it's rather iffy and can be taken either way; depending on what the person's view is already. Typical of most politicians. I will let you click the Google search here and decide on your own. Either way, the attitude of being "punished with a baby" seems to be within the pro-abortion side.
This got me to thinking; in comparison to a pregnancy or abortion, which is really the punishment? A baby is a gift. Not a gift from the woman's husband or boyfriend (or fill in other possibilities). But she is a gift from God. Would you take a gift from a friend or beloved family member and say "gee thanks, I really like this, but not right now or not ever" and then tear it up and throw it in the trash?
Remember, I have had abortions also, so I am not judging. Just reflecting and looking back.
I am reminded of when I was in the third grade, being the latchkey kid that I was, while my mom was at work I snuck into her closet to find two Cabbage Patch dolls that she was holding until Christmas. I guess I had misbehaved in school or didn't do my homework or something. So she took one of the dolls back. After opening Christmas presents that year I looked around asking my mom where the other doll was. Oops. She asked me why I thought there was another doll. I had to tell her. She was mad.
Here's my point. Kids get presents from their parents. When they misbehave the parents sometimes take away the gift. There is a similarity to that and abortion, especially when the mother is forced or coerced. Maybe even when the mother was in full decision of the abortion, whether she let anyone know about it. Whether there is pressure from family, boyfriend/husband, friends, or society they are the ones who are telling the woman that "she is a bad little girl" and should have her gift taken away as her punishment. She doesn't deserve to have the baby. Yet, it is packaged as the pregnancy being the punishment. Again, even for the woman who made the decision on her own, she too is being punished by society. Due to society's view on pregnancy during "imperfect circumstances" and abortion.
*I don't quite recall if the actual word "punishment" was used during the "family intervention" but I do remember the allusion to the "fact" that continuing a pregnancy would be a "punishment."
When making the comparisons to parents taking away a gift and pressure to abort it is almost like these YouTube videos out there where parents hammer out or shoot up a kid's expensive tech item such as iPhone, iPad, laptop, Xbox, etc. Kid misused the privilege, that comes along with such tech objects, given to them. So the parents destroy the object, while the kid can do nothing but witness the destruction. Never again to be in a useable condition or to be seen anymore.
Which is quite similar to abortion being used as a punishment. The child is destroyed. Never to be loved. Never to be held. Never for the parents to see or hear his firsts; words, crawling, walking, eating solids, attending school, extracurricular activities, marriage, family of their own. The mother of the aborted child is there to witness the destruction. There is nothing she can do to stop it. Afterwards she just stares at the destruction, not able to anything but cry. Maybe not now, but possibly later.
I have always thought these videos of the parents destroying their kids' high end toys are dumb. The parents could hold onto the toy until the kid straightens up. Give it to charity. Sell it on eBay. Do something where the item is not destroyed and can still be used.
Same with a child where the mother is currently unable take care of the child. She should be encouraged to carry the pregnancy to terms. Her family should be there to support her and the child, given resources on being able to care for the child while being raised by her. If there is no way to do that perhaps someone could step up and take care of the child until the mother is in a situation to raise the child herself. If there is no one able to do that for her then encourage adoption.
Of course a child can not completely be compared to an inanimate object. That is where the similarities differ. Yes, when the Xbox or whatever is being destroyed the kid is going to be upset and cry. But they will not look back years or decades away and mourn for the object that was destroyed. They may possibly realize they were dumb for doing whatever it was that caused the destruction of the object.
As for the abortion she will look back at the abortion and regret it. Regret that there is no way to bring back the child. She may even regret partaking in the action that got her pregnant. Of course I am looking at this from the perspective of a woman who was unmarried at the time. I do realize that there are women who are married at the time of their pregnancies,who abort. My empathy goes out to them, whatever the situation.
Another difference between the parents who destroy inanimate objects and abortions is that the tech gadget is a gift from the earthly parents. While a baby is a gift from God, our Heavenly Father. The gift from the parents is destroyed by the parents who gave them the gift. The gift from God is NOT destroyed by The Father who gave the gift to the family. But is destroyed by the world and the culture.
This is something I am finally coming to terms with. At the time of my first abortion I came to "the 'realization' that there was no God." I never knew I had that thought until sometime last year, in 2014.
*Recent additions after editing
While I try to leave political views out of my posts I believe in looking at all angles of an issue. I am not one to get my information from just one source or the other. I refuse to focus on information that leans to one agenda or the other. So I decided to refresh myself with the segment of his speech through a Google search. Supposedly, he wasn't talking about abortion or supporting getting abortions for his daughters. I watched the video clip, read the "explanations" from both sides. Yeah, it's rather iffy and can be taken either way; depending on what the person's view is already. Typical of most politicians. I will let you click the Google search here and decide on your own. Either way, the attitude of being "punished with a baby" seems to be within the pro-abortion side.
This got me to thinking; in comparison to a pregnancy or abortion, which is really the punishment? A baby is a gift. Not a gift from the woman's husband or boyfriend (or fill in other possibilities). But she is a gift from God. Would you take a gift from a friend or beloved family member and say "gee thanks, I really like this, but not right now or not ever" and then tear it up and throw it in the trash?
Remember, I have had abortions also, so I am not judging. Just reflecting and looking back.
I am reminded of when I was in the third grade, being the latchkey kid that I was, while my mom was at work I snuck into her closet to find two Cabbage Patch dolls that she was holding until Christmas. I guess I had misbehaved in school or didn't do my homework or something. So she took one of the dolls back. After opening Christmas presents that year I looked around asking my mom where the other doll was. Oops. She asked me why I thought there was another doll. I had to tell her. She was mad.
Here's my point. Kids get presents from their parents. When they misbehave the parents sometimes take away the gift. There is a similarity to that and abortion, especially when the mother is forced or coerced. Maybe even when the mother was in full decision of the abortion, whether she let anyone know about it. Whether there is pressure from family, boyfriend/husband, friends, or society they are the ones who are telling the woman that "she is a bad little girl" and should have her gift taken away as her punishment. She doesn't deserve to have the baby. Yet, it is packaged as the pregnancy being the punishment. Again, even for the woman who made the decision on her own, she too is being punished by society. Due to society's view on pregnancy during "imperfect circumstances" and abortion.
*I don't quite recall if the actual word "punishment" was used during the "family intervention" but I do remember the allusion to the "fact" that continuing a pregnancy would be a "punishment."
When making the comparisons to parents taking away a gift and pressure to abort it is almost like these YouTube videos out there where parents hammer out or shoot up a kid's expensive tech item such as iPhone, iPad, laptop, Xbox, etc. Kid misused the privilege, that comes along with such tech objects, given to them. So the parents destroy the object, while the kid can do nothing but witness the destruction. Never again to be in a useable condition or to be seen anymore.
Which is quite similar to abortion being used as a punishment. The child is destroyed. Never to be loved. Never to be held. Never for the parents to see or hear his firsts; words, crawling, walking, eating solids, attending school, extracurricular activities, marriage, family of their own. The mother of the aborted child is there to witness the destruction. There is nothing she can do to stop it. Afterwards she just stares at the destruction, not able to anything but cry. Maybe not now, but possibly later.
I have always thought these videos of the parents destroying their kids' high end toys are dumb. The parents could hold onto the toy until the kid straightens up. Give it to charity. Sell it on eBay. Do something where the item is not destroyed and can still be used.
Same with a child where the mother is currently unable take care of the child. She should be encouraged to carry the pregnancy to terms. Her family should be there to support her and the child, given resources on being able to care for the child while being raised by her. If there is no way to do that perhaps someone could step up and take care of the child until the mother is in a situation to raise the child herself. If there is no one able to do that for her then encourage adoption.
Of course a child can not completely be compared to an inanimate object. That is where the similarities differ. Yes, when the Xbox or whatever is being destroyed the kid is going to be upset and cry. But they will not look back years or decades away and mourn for the object that was destroyed. They may possibly realize they were dumb for doing whatever it was that caused the destruction of the object.
As for the abortion she will look back at the abortion and regret it. Regret that there is no way to bring back the child. She may even regret partaking in the action that got her pregnant. Of course I am looking at this from the perspective of a woman who was unmarried at the time. I do realize that there are women who are married at the time of their pregnancies,who abort. My empathy goes out to them, whatever the situation.
Another difference between the parents who destroy inanimate objects and abortions is that the tech gadget is a gift from the earthly parents. While a baby is a gift from God, our Heavenly Father. The gift from the parents is destroyed by the parents who gave them the gift. The gift from God is NOT destroyed by The Father who gave the gift to the family. But is destroyed by the world and the culture.
This is something I am finally coming to terms with. At the time of my first abortion I came to "the 'realization' that there was no God." I never knew I had that thought until sometime last year, in 2014.
*Recent additions after editing
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Still Healing and Recovering
Warning: The following is a bit disjointed. Firing out thoughts as they come. No rhythm or concise order of anything.
Been debating writing about this. As was stated I attended a Rachel's Vineyard Retreat about 3 weekends ago. Oddly it seems longer ago than that. Yet, it seems more recent. I have been doing that for the past year or so, since "*coming to terms" with the abortions.
*Really, can one truly come to terms with an abortion? I don't know. I can't answer that. No matter how much support one has from a confident(s), retreats, online groups, prayer, Bible reading, etc "automatic healing" will not take place. All I can do is trust in Christ. Yes, it's an uphill battle. One that I must climb everyday and trust in God. Look, I don't have all the answers. I just know I am going to fall. Heck sometimes even go snowball rolling down that hill. I know when I do fall to get on my knees and pray. Even before starting up the hill to get on my knees and prayer. Regardless of my mood. Do I always heed my own advice? No! But I must keep persevering.
Looks like I kind of went off track. Let's get back to the subject. So the reason, or one reason, I debated writing about this is that I was afraid of possibly coming off as saying that the retreat didn't help me. It did. Believe me. I don't want the following to be a discouragement to those who may be considering attending a retreat. Whether you are in the look-up stage or making plans to attend a specific retreat in your area or somewhere else; I want to tell you that despite any of your fears it really truly is a healing experience. Or part of the healing experience.
Currently, I am writing from my "sick bed." Not really like I have the flu or something. Just tired. Don't want to do anything right now. Playing Christian/Gospel/Hymn music. Reading from the Bible. Praying the rosary. May read a few verses from the Book of Psalms. Checking out the Twitter feed. Of course writing too. Playing online games, just to release some stress.
Although I am currently not at the point I was when I "discovered" that I had the abortions. That time was horrible. All I did was lay around, desiring to cry yet the tears would not flow, lay in a fetal position, wishing the world would go away. I have made some progress in that time.
I have been somewhat lethargic since coming home from the retreat. The leaders did state to take it easy when getting home and not be wonder-woman. I did try to heed that advice. But at the same time I felt like I had so much in my life and home that were neglected during my reflection time. I thought I could come home and do all kinds of spring cleaning and DIY projects. But I was also being careful not to overdo things. I would wake up, drink my coffee, sit and stare, think about the things I needed to do. I thought "the next cup of coffee will give me the energy to do things." Nope. After finishing a day of doing nothing,except for maybe the basics I would go to bed feeling defeated and lazy.
Finally, I have just collapsed. I am laying on the couch propped up by a throw pillow and a bed pillow. Doing nothing. And that is fine!I don't know how long I will be on my sick bed. And that is fine. I am not going to schedule the time I will be on the sick bed. And that is fine. I am not going to schedule things I need to do. And that is fine.
There is a photo on the sidebar along with the same photo at the top of the blog that is of the prayer and meditation shrine in memorial of my girls, Anastasia and Hanelore. I have it set up in my kitchen. It is a nice spot to be able to remind me to look to God in all my sorrows and joys. Have my devotions and prayer time there. Feel as though I have my daughters near me during meal and prep times. I am not at the point where I set a place and meals for them. Yet, I think it is now time to take down the shrine and put the memory items in a safe and secure spot, to be able to look at when I need to.
Although my hoarding issues seem to get in the way of that. Don't know why but in some ways it feels as though I am getting rid of my daughters again. Possibly as though I am "hiding them." These are issues I need to work on.
Point is; there is no one true miracle that is going to all of a sudden make my emotions be all Maria from The Sound of Music dancing in a field of flowers. And that too is fine!
Been debating writing about this. As was stated I attended a Rachel's Vineyard Retreat about 3 weekends ago. Oddly it seems longer ago than that. Yet, it seems more recent. I have been doing that for the past year or so, since "*coming to terms" with the abortions.
*Really, can one truly come to terms with an abortion? I don't know. I can't answer that. No matter how much support one has from a confident(s), retreats, online groups, prayer, Bible reading, etc "automatic healing" will not take place. All I can do is trust in Christ. Yes, it's an uphill battle. One that I must climb everyday and trust in God. Look, I don't have all the answers. I just know I am going to fall. Heck sometimes even go snowball rolling down that hill. I know when I do fall to get on my knees and pray. Even before starting up the hill to get on my knees and prayer. Regardless of my mood. Do I always heed my own advice? No! But I must keep persevering.
Looks like I kind of went off track. Let's get back to the subject. So the reason, or one reason, I debated writing about this is that I was afraid of possibly coming off as saying that the retreat didn't help me. It did. Believe me. I don't want the following to be a discouragement to those who may be considering attending a retreat. Whether you are in the look-up stage or making plans to attend a specific retreat in your area or somewhere else; I want to tell you that despite any of your fears it really truly is a healing experience. Or part of the healing experience.
Currently, I am writing from my "sick bed." Not really like I have the flu or something. Just tired. Don't want to do anything right now. Playing Christian/Gospel/Hymn music. Reading from the Bible. Praying the rosary. May read a few verses from the Book of Psalms. Checking out the Twitter feed. Of course writing too. Playing online games, just to release some stress.
Although I am currently not at the point I was when I "discovered" that I had the abortions. That time was horrible. All I did was lay around, desiring to cry yet the tears would not flow, lay in a fetal position, wishing the world would go away. I have made some progress in that time.
I have been somewhat lethargic since coming home from the retreat. The leaders did state to take it easy when getting home and not be wonder-woman. I did try to heed that advice. But at the same time I felt like I had so much in my life and home that were neglected during my reflection time. I thought I could come home and do all kinds of spring cleaning and DIY projects. But I was also being careful not to overdo things. I would wake up, drink my coffee, sit and stare, think about the things I needed to do. I thought "the next cup of coffee will give me the energy to do things." Nope. After finishing a day of doing nothing,except for maybe the basics I would go to bed feeling defeated and lazy.
Finally, I have just collapsed. I am laying on the couch propped up by a throw pillow and a bed pillow. Doing nothing. And that is fine!I don't know how long I will be on my sick bed. And that is fine. I am not going to schedule the time I will be on the sick bed. And that is fine. I am not going to schedule things I need to do. And that is fine.
There is a photo on the sidebar along with the same photo at the top of the blog that is of the prayer and meditation shrine in memorial of my girls, Anastasia and Hanelore. I have it set up in my kitchen. It is a nice spot to be able to remind me to look to God in all my sorrows and joys. Have my devotions and prayer time there. Feel as though I have my daughters near me during meal and prep times. I am not at the point where I set a place and meals for them. Yet, I think it is now time to take down the shrine and put the memory items in a safe and secure spot, to be able to look at when I need to.
Although my hoarding issues seem to get in the way of that. Don't know why but in some ways it feels as though I am getting rid of my daughters again. Possibly as though I am "hiding them." These are issues I need to work on.
Point is; there is no one true miracle that is going to all of a sudden make my emotions be all Maria from The Sound of Music dancing in a field of flowers. And that too is fine!
Choosing Abortion or Adoption?
Came across this article from LifeNews.com in my Twitter feed. As someone who wanted to choose adoption over abortion in the first pregnancy but didn't fight hard enough for that "choice" I still support adoption choices, yet will always have a pang of guilt that it was "my body, THEIR choice."
Why Do More People Choose Abortion Over Adoption?
[...]
Adoption is the kind, loving choice for everyone involved.
Countless women in the U.S. choose abortion over adoption for their unborn babies every year. When I sat in on counseling sessions at a pregnancy center, I learned that women are often very closed to the idea of adoption. They either want to keep their baby themselves or get rid of the baby now. Adoption statistics are hard to track, since states are not necessarily required to report domestic adoptions. However, the numbers are grim, and much of it is owing to abortion:
[...]
Full article link here
Thursday, May 7, 2015
The Second Abortion
This is a hard post to write. After writing about the first abortion, in categorized posts, I was unable to go forward with writing about the second abortion. Perhaps the reason for that is mental exhaustion, feeling like collapsing after writing about it. Perhaps shame. I don't know. Maybe a bit of both.
It took me forever to even remember the abortions. Though I always knew in the back of my mind, I ignored them. Though they always affected my life in one way or another. The way I lived. The way I reacted around men. The men I chose, or more or less put up with and let choose me.
All the while I lied even to myself after remembering the abortions. I only told myself about the first one. Perhaps it was the differing reactions to finding out about the pregnancies. During the first pregnancy plans were being made for, Anastasia, my first daughter. The second time I never even acknowledged, Hanelore, the child within me. There are even more "blank spots" in this abortion.
Perhaps you may want to start and the beginning and read about the first abortions to know where my story starts and come back when you are finished; My first abortion story.
The following memories are quite fuzzy, possibly more so than those of the first abortion. So, since having the second abortion I moved away from (my hometown) and to (town my mom lived in). I was still seeing "Matt" after the move. I would drive to (his town) see him, or occasionally he would drive to (town) to see me. Of course we were having sexual relations. During one of the visits he saw my belly, it was getting bigger. In fact, I never really even noticed. He asked me if I were pregnant. I denied it, not just to him, but to myself also.
Even if after he pointed it out, I still ignored any thoughts of being pregnant. Then one day while I was at work I went to use the rest room. For some reason when I looked down at my belly I noticed that my tummy was bigger. Then that's when the reality hit that I could be pregnant. So many thoughts came running through all flashing at the speed of light.
I was scared, I recalled everything that went on during the first pregnancy and abortion. "Matt's" reaction and attitude. My mother's attitude and coercion. I really didn't know what to do. I hate to admit it, but I could not envision carrying the pregnancy to term. But I did not like the idea of going through another abortion.
I guess I picked up an at home pregnancy test after work. I don't know. I know sometime soon after I did purchase said test. Maybe it was the next day or during one of my first day off after seeing my large belly. I do remember when seeing the positive results. I know it was quite early in the morning. I was hopelessly frantic. The first thought was abortion, totally unlike the reaction to the first pregnancy.
Very odd, but the first person I called was a professor from college. I should probably back track there. See, even though I was in a relationship with "Matt" I was seeing a professor from the college I was attending. Seeing as in having a bit of a fling. The class I met him in had already finished before anything happened between us. Not that I am excusing anything, just adding the back story.
Gosh, I have no idea how early in the day it was. Just I know it was quite early. I think I woke him up when I called. No "hey, how you doing" I just simply blurted out "I have to have an abortion!". He just said "I can't talk right now." My heart just sank. I felt even more alone than I did before. I didn't even think he could be the father. He had been using condoms during our "trysts." I suppose there could have been a minuscule chance, but I was thinking of Mike being the father. I guess the reason for calling him may have been deep down I wanted him to convince me not to.
Feeling scared, confused and trapped; I looked in the phone book looking under "abortions." I found one ad that said something to the effect of "Pregnant? Feeling scared? Wanting an abortion? Call us." So that's what I did. I called. Some lady answered. I blurted out that I was looking to have an abortion. The lady was really snotty. She said "We don't do abortions!" In a very judgmental tone, and hung up. Not sure which of us hung up first.
I felt even more bad. I thought I could do this on my own without anyone knowing. Now what was I going to do? I was too scared to call anyone after that. I guessed I was going to have to tell my mother.
Looking back, the place I called with the snotty lady was most likely a pregnancy crisis center. Fine, they didn't do abortions. But why couldn't she have tried to talk to me? Ask me questions? Ask why I wanted an abortion? Tried to talk me out of it?
Later in the day Mr. Professor called me. Said he was sorry he wasn't able to talk to me when I called. He was telling me I should have the abortion and that it would probably be best. He told me that he knew others who had abortions. I still wasn't even thinking about the first abortion. It's like I remembered it, but didn't. Looking back, I wonder if he ever wondered if there was a possibility it was his child.
Fast forward to Fourth of July 1996. My family was planning on having a picnic at my grandmother's. My mother and I drove in separate cars. The plan was to meet "Matt" after both of our families had their picnics. I just couldn't face him. I didn't want to. I called him to tell him that I wasn't going to be able to see him. I broke up with him over the phone. He accused me of cheating. I denied it. Yes, I know, Mr. Professor, and all. But he didn't know. There's no way he could know. OK, so there's no excuse.
I just wanted to be alone, away from people. I left my grandmother's. Told my mom I wasn't feeling well. Drove home.
When my mother got home I broke down and told her. I told her I wanted an abortion. She never questioned me or asked if maybe I would want to carry the baby to terms. She asked if I was certain I was pregnant. I told her I was sure and that the pregnancy test had two tests in the kit. Didn't even have to wait the 5 or 10 minutes or however long the instructions said. I could practically see the results show up as I was peeing on the stick.
At some point a doctor's appointment was made. It was confirmed I was pregnant. My mother told the doctor I was for certain going to have an abortion. The insurance and the doctor was connected the Catholic hospital in town. He said because of that he couldn't refer me to an abortionist. Yet, he didn't try to convince me not to have the abortion.
Eventually I was given a vaginal exam at another doctor's office. Oddly, while I don't remember the abortionist from the first abortion, I do remember this guy. He was a short and somewhat chubby. I don't remember his name. He was either Mexican, Mid Eastern or India Indian. Had somewhat of an accent. Doing some internet searching I think, but not sure, he is someone who has gotten in trouble with the state and a few women have died under his "care." But again, I can't say for certain That it is him. I have no idea how far along I was. Not one stinking clue. I was never even told.
Then the time for the abortion came. It was done at one of the hospitals. Obviously not the above mentioned Catholic hospital. The only thing I really recall is an older lady in the waiting room. She asked what we were there for. I didn't know what to say. My mother "chimed in" and said I was having a D & C. The lady responded that she had that done after having a miscarriage. And that was it.
I don't remember anything after that. I was put on full anesthesia. Out cold. Don't even know if the doctor from the exam was the one who did the procedure or if it was someone else. I do not recall waking up from the procedure. I do not know if they had me rest afterward or for how long. I really don't remember leaving or the car ride back home with my mom. The one and only thing I remember is my mom commenting about the lady in the waiting office; saying that she was being nosy or something like that.
I think I had a day or two of recovery. Maybe more. I don't know. I think my mom went back to work after I got home. I do know that when I went back to work there was some reason I had to grab something from storage. In part of the post abortion instructions I was told I was not to lift heavy objects. Considering that no one knew about the abortion I could not just tell the manager that I wasn't going to grab the item for no reason.
The end, but not really...
It took me forever to even remember the abortions. Though I always knew in the back of my mind, I ignored them. Though they always affected my life in one way or another. The way I lived. The way I reacted around men. The men I chose, or more or less put up with and let choose me.
All the while I lied even to myself after remembering the abortions. I only told myself about the first one. Perhaps it was the differing reactions to finding out about the pregnancies. During the first pregnancy plans were being made for, Anastasia, my first daughter. The second time I never even acknowledged, Hanelore, the child within me. There are even more "blank spots" in this abortion.
Perhaps you may want to start and the beginning and read about the first abortions to know where my story starts and come back when you are finished; My first abortion story.
The following memories are quite fuzzy, possibly more so than those of the first abortion. So, since having the second abortion I moved away from (my hometown) and to (town my mom lived in). I was still seeing "Matt" after the move. I would drive to (his town) see him, or occasionally he would drive to (town) to see me. Of course we were having sexual relations. During one of the visits he saw my belly, it was getting bigger. In fact, I never really even noticed. He asked me if I were pregnant. I denied it, not just to him, but to myself also.
Even if after he pointed it out, I still ignored any thoughts of being pregnant. Then one day while I was at work I went to use the rest room. For some reason when I looked down at my belly I noticed that my tummy was bigger. Then that's when the reality hit that I could be pregnant. So many thoughts came running through all flashing at the speed of light.
I was scared, I recalled everything that went on during the first pregnancy and abortion. "Matt's" reaction and attitude. My mother's attitude and coercion. I really didn't know what to do. I hate to admit it, but I could not envision carrying the pregnancy to term. But I did not like the idea of going through another abortion.
I guess I picked up an at home pregnancy test after work. I don't know. I know sometime soon after I did purchase said test. Maybe it was the next day or during one of my first day off after seeing my large belly. I do remember when seeing the positive results. I know it was quite early in the morning. I was hopelessly frantic. The first thought was abortion, totally unlike the reaction to the first pregnancy.
Very odd, but the first person I called was a professor from college. I should probably back track there. See, even though I was in a relationship with "Matt" I was seeing a professor from the college I was attending. Seeing as in having a bit of a fling. The class I met him in had already finished before anything happened between us. Not that I am excusing anything, just adding the back story.
Gosh, I have no idea how early in the day it was. Just I know it was quite early. I think I woke him up when I called. No "hey, how you doing" I just simply blurted out "I have to have an abortion!". He just said "I can't talk right now." My heart just sank. I felt even more alone than I did before. I didn't even think he could be the father. He had been using condoms during our "trysts." I suppose there could have been a minuscule chance, but I was thinking of Mike being the father. I guess the reason for calling him may have been deep down I wanted him to convince me not to.
Feeling scared, confused and trapped; I looked in the phone book looking under "abortions." I found one ad that said something to the effect of "Pregnant? Feeling scared? Wanting an abortion? Call us." So that's what I did. I called. Some lady answered. I blurted out that I was looking to have an abortion. The lady was really snotty. She said "We don't do abortions!" In a very judgmental tone, and hung up. Not sure which of us hung up first.
I felt even more bad. I thought I could do this on my own without anyone knowing. Now what was I going to do? I was too scared to call anyone after that. I guessed I was going to have to tell my mother.
Looking back, the place I called with the snotty lady was most likely a pregnancy crisis center. Fine, they didn't do abortions. But why couldn't she have tried to talk to me? Ask me questions? Ask why I wanted an abortion? Tried to talk me out of it?
Later in the day Mr. Professor called me. Said he was sorry he wasn't able to talk to me when I called. He was telling me I should have the abortion and that it would probably be best. He told me that he knew others who had abortions. I still wasn't even thinking about the first abortion. It's like I remembered it, but didn't. Looking back, I wonder if he ever wondered if there was a possibility it was his child.
Fast forward to Fourth of July 1996. My family was planning on having a picnic at my grandmother's. My mother and I drove in separate cars. The plan was to meet "Matt" after both of our families had their picnics. I just couldn't face him. I didn't want to. I called him to tell him that I wasn't going to be able to see him. I broke up with him over the phone. He accused me of cheating. I denied it. Yes, I know, Mr. Professor, and all. But he didn't know. There's no way he could know. OK, so there's no excuse.
I just wanted to be alone, away from people. I left my grandmother's. Told my mom I wasn't feeling well. Drove home.
When my mother got home I broke down and told her. I told her I wanted an abortion. She never questioned me or asked if maybe I would want to carry the baby to terms. She asked if I was certain I was pregnant. I told her I was sure and that the pregnancy test had two tests in the kit. Didn't even have to wait the 5 or 10 minutes or however long the instructions said. I could practically see the results show up as I was peeing on the stick.
At some point a doctor's appointment was made. It was confirmed I was pregnant. My mother told the doctor I was for certain going to have an abortion. The insurance and the doctor was connected the Catholic hospital in town. He said because of that he couldn't refer me to an abortionist. Yet, he didn't try to convince me not to have the abortion.
Eventually I was given a vaginal exam at another doctor's office. Oddly, while I don't remember the abortionist from the first abortion, I do remember this guy. He was a short and somewhat chubby. I don't remember his name. He was either Mexican, Mid Eastern or India Indian. Had somewhat of an accent. Doing some internet searching I think, but not sure, he is someone who has gotten in trouble with the state and a few women have died under his "care." But again, I can't say for certain That it is him. I have no idea how far along I was. Not one stinking clue. I was never even told.
Then the time for the abortion came. It was done at one of the hospitals. Obviously not the above mentioned Catholic hospital. The only thing I really recall is an older lady in the waiting room. She asked what we were there for. I didn't know what to say. My mother "chimed in" and said I was having a D & C. The lady responded that she had that done after having a miscarriage. And that was it.
I don't remember anything after that. I was put on full anesthesia. Out cold. Don't even know if the doctor from the exam was the one who did the procedure or if it was someone else. I do not recall waking up from the procedure. I do not know if they had me rest afterward or for how long. I really don't remember leaving or the car ride back home with my mom. The one and only thing I remember is my mom commenting about the lady in the waiting office; saying that she was being nosy or something like that.
I think I had a day or two of recovery. Maybe more. I don't know. I think my mom went back to work after I got home. I do know that when I went back to work there was some reason I had to grab something from storage. In part of the post abortion instructions I was told I was not to lift heavy objects. Considering that no one knew about the abortion I could not just tell the manager that I wasn't going to grab the item for no reason.
The end, but not really...
Abortion and Hoarding? A Connection?
Still working on things to talk about in regards to the Rachel's
Vineyard Retreat. In the meantime; I had planned on doing spring
cleaning early. I started, really I did. Look, it's May already and
not even close to finished! Well, I did try. Still planning on working
on that. Got a good portion done in the kitchen.
Went through a lot of my, let's call it what it is, crap! That's what it is. So many things found in my cupboards just sitting there taking up space for absolutely no reason. I have no clue whatsoever how it ended up in my house or what even possessed me to purchase it. Granted, some of it was given to me by friends and family. And for whatever reason I just could not tell them "thanks but no thanks."
Oh, it's not just kitchen items that I "collect." It's anything and everything. I really don't collect anything specific; I likes, I buys. I mean I do have some collections that fit in a certain category. And that's what I am trying to do in my sorting and separating. If the item is not part of a collection and really truly isn't very useful for any purpose then out it goes. By which I mean not throwing anything away, I plan on having a garage sale. Anything I don't sell will be donated to the thrift store. Yay, you can have my junk! Lucky you!
So here is where the deep thoughts come in. So here I am, looking at the said "crap." Wondering why I even bought it. Then I wondered, is this one of the residual effects of my abortion? When I go to a store, thrift shop or garage sale I have this overwhelming sense to buy something, anything, doesn't matter what. I can search through the store and not find one stinking thing. So I find some cheap little trinket. Possibly a 10c. Mason jar. I really don't need that 10c. Mason jar, and I know at the time I don't need it, yet I buy it just so I can leave with something in my hands.
Here is where the possible connection to the abortion comes in. I left the abortion clinics empty handed. Looking back, I feel empty from the abortions. Like I left something behind. I don't want to feel empty. Yet, after the shopping high is over, I don't feel any better. Especially if money is getting tight afterwards. I regret the purchase. Individual items may be cheap, but those little items can add up. Both financially and physically.
Again, as I have said a million times before, I am no expert. I have no idea if there really is an abortion and hoarding connection. Maybe I am the only one this happens to. And of course I do know not everyone who hoards has had an abortion and/or has been affected be abortion in one way or the other. I just know this is a reality for me. A reality I need to change.
Went through a lot of my, let's call it what it is, crap! That's what it is. So many things found in my cupboards just sitting there taking up space for absolutely no reason. I have no clue whatsoever how it ended up in my house or what even possessed me to purchase it. Granted, some of it was given to me by friends and family. And for whatever reason I just could not tell them "thanks but no thanks."
Oh, it's not just kitchen items that I "collect." It's anything and everything. I really don't collect anything specific; I likes, I buys. I mean I do have some collections that fit in a certain category. And that's what I am trying to do in my sorting and separating. If the item is not part of a collection and really truly isn't very useful for any purpose then out it goes. By which I mean not throwing anything away, I plan on having a garage sale. Anything I don't sell will be donated to the thrift store. Yay, you can have my junk! Lucky you!
So here is where the deep thoughts come in. So here I am, looking at the said "crap." Wondering why I even bought it. Then I wondered, is this one of the residual effects of my abortion? When I go to a store, thrift shop or garage sale I have this overwhelming sense to buy something, anything, doesn't matter what. I can search through the store and not find one stinking thing. So I find some cheap little trinket. Possibly a 10c. Mason jar. I really don't need that 10c. Mason jar, and I know at the time I don't need it, yet I buy it just so I can leave with something in my hands.
Here is where the possible connection to the abortion comes in. I left the abortion clinics empty handed. Looking back, I feel empty from the abortions. Like I left something behind. I don't want to feel empty. Yet, after the shopping high is over, I don't feel any better. Especially if money is getting tight afterwards. I regret the purchase. Individual items may be cheap, but those little items can add up. Both financially and physically.
Again, as I have said a million times before, I am no expert. I have no idea if there really is an abortion and hoarding connection. Maybe I am the only one this happens to. And of course I do know not everyone who hoards has had an abortion and/or has been affected be abortion in one way or the other. I just know this is a reality for me. A reality I need to change.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Dear Young Woman...(A Letter) EDITED
Below is the edited add ons; with an * in front.
So often I see these "letters to my younger self" making the rounds on the internet. I am sure they are all well and good and can provide a therapeutic outlet. But writing a letter to my younger self will not change the past. It will not bring my babies back. So I prefer to write a letter to the woman who is currently pregnant and unsure what to do.
Dear Young Woman (or possibly not so young),
I don't know you. You don't know me. But I do know what it is like to be in your circumstance. You are currently experiencing an unexpected pregnancy. You are searching the internet looking for advice. You are unsure what to do. Or perhaps you are sure you want to raise your baby or release her to adoption. You have so many voices telling you what or what not to do. Some of them you know personally. Others are just noise in the media. You have no room in your mind to think. Girl, I know. I feel for you.
Perhaps you are recently out of high school and planning to marry your fella. Rings and wedding plans already made. Perhaps you are in a casual relationship. Maybe you are already married already with or without other children. Perhaps you are still in school, feeling very scared. Perhaps you never even consented to the acts of conception. My heart and tears go out to you.
Whatever your situation may be those around you may be telling you to have an abortion. Saying it is the only way or the best way. You want so bad not to have an abortion, but don't know what to do. The people talking you into having an abortion may be telling you things like it is just a blob of tissue. It's not a person. It is so small that it can't really be a person. Yet, why are so many physical changes taking places in your body? Yes, they are correct as to him being small right now. Yet your body knows he is supposed to be there and changing as he grows. They are telling you reasons why you can't have the baby. Maybe you are countering them with how you will raise your baby in the best environment you can give him. Or maybe you are countering them with the idea of adoption. Whether the persons talking you into abortion are family, baby's father, or his family; perhaps they are telling you that if the baby can't stay in the family then he can't be raised in another family.
Maybe you are on the other spectrum. Maybe you do want an abortion. Maybe those around you do support your decision. Maybe they don't. Perhaps you still aren't sure if you will be making the right decision.
I am not part of any organization. I am new to the blogging thing about pro-life. So I can't give the best advice that others can give you. But what I can tell you is that there is a great chance you will regret going through an abortion. And I do know how the after effects will be. Once it is done there is no turning back. There is no bringing that baby back. Most likely you will go through many issues should you have the abortion. Time does not heal. Perhaps you will be fine for a while, but most likely you will hurt many years later. To receive better advice than what I can give, please check some of the links to the right side. This is a very short list of organizations that can help you, either in your decision of raising the child or releasing to adoption. There are many blogs that discuss what the abortion issue is truly about.
* I would like to add that you may be scared to contact organizations or persons whom you don't know. Maybe you are scared of the "judgmental pro-life" stereotypes. Maybe you are scared of "telling others your business." Believe me, I know how you are feeling. I knew about adoption agencies such as adoptions within the Catholic Social Services during my first pregnancy. I did not know of any crisis pregnancy centers at the time. Perhaps they existed, but not as well publicized as now. I was too scared to call them. This being the era before the internet. You may be saying "But I am not Catholic." They will help you anyways. And there are many other adoption services that are not Catholic or non Christian at all; please check here adoption services. When I suggested during the "family intervention" about adoptions through Catholic Social Services I was told "But our family is not Catholic. We wouldn't want Catholics to raise the child." Or something like that. Not calling them is the biggest regret I will have for the rest of my life. I would rather wonder about my "good little Catholic" daughter and what happened to her and how she is doing now than knowing that she was denied a life for the "family image."
*If you are reading this and knowing someone in an unexpected pregnancy who may be feeling the pressure of abortion or she is contemplating it herself you may be feeling discouraged if you are her lone voice. Please, please do not give up. Give her all the pro-life information you can.
So often I see these "letters to my younger self" making the rounds on the internet. I am sure they are all well and good and can provide a therapeutic outlet. But writing a letter to my younger self will not change the past. It will not bring my babies back. So I prefer to write a letter to the woman who is currently pregnant and unsure what to do.
Dear Young Woman (or possibly not so young),
I don't know you. You don't know me. But I do know what it is like to be in your circumstance. You are currently experiencing an unexpected pregnancy. You are searching the internet looking for advice. You are unsure what to do. Or perhaps you are sure you want to raise your baby or release her to adoption. You have so many voices telling you what or what not to do. Some of them you know personally. Others are just noise in the media. You have no room in your mind to think. Girl, I know. I feel for you.
Perhaps you are recently out of high school and planning to marry your fella. Rings and wedding plans already made. Perhaps you are in a casual relationship. Maybe you are already married already with or without other children. Perhaps you are still in school, feeling very scared. Perhaps you never even consented to the acts of conception. My heart and tears go out to you.
Whatever your situation may be those around you may be telling you to have an abortion. Saying it is the only way or the best way. You want so bad not to have an abortion, but don't know what to do. The people talking you into having an abortion may be telling you things like it is just a blob of tissue. It's not a person. It is so small that it can't really be a person. Yet, why are so many physical changes taking places in your body? Yes, they are correct as to him being small right now. Yet your body knows he is supposed to be there and changing as he grows. They are telling you reasons why you can't have the baby. Maybe you are countering them with how you will raise your baby in the best environment you can give him. Or maybe you are countering them with the idea of adoption. Whether the persons talking you into abortion are family, baby's father, or his family; perhaps they are telling you that if the baby can't stay in the family then he can't be raised in another family.
Maybe you are on the other spectrum. Maybe you do want an abortion. Maybe those around you do support your decision. Maybe they don't. Perhaps you still aren't sure if you will be making the right decision.
I am not part of any organization. I am new to the blogging thing about pro-life. So I can't give the best advice that others can give you. But what I can tell you is that there is a great chance you will regret going through an abortion. And I do know how the after effects will be. Once it is done there is no turning back. There is no bringing that baby back. Most likely you will go through many issues should you have the abortion. Time does not heal. Perhaps you will be fine for a while, but most likely you will hurt many years later. To receive better advice than what I can give, please check some of the links to the right side. This is a very short list of organizations that can help you, either in your decision of raising the child or releasing to adoption. There are many blogs that discuss what the abortion issue is truly about.
* I would like to add that you may be scared to contact organizations or persons whom you don't know. Maybe you are scared of the "judgmental pro-life" stereotypes. Maybe you are scared of "telling others your business." Believe me, I know how you are feeling. I knew about adoption agencies such as adoptions within the Catholic Social Services during my first pregnancy. I did not know of any crisis pregnancy centers at the time. Perhaps they existed, but not as well publicized as now. I was too scared to call them. This being the era before the internet. You may be saying "But I am not Catholic." They will help you anyways. And there are many other adoption services that are not Catholic or non Christian at all; please check here adoption services. When I suggested during the "family intervention" about adoptions through Catholic Social Services I was told "But our family is not Catholic. We wouldn't want Catholics to raise the child." Or something like that. Not calling them is the biggest regret I will have for the rest of my life. I would rather wonder about my "good little Catholic" daughter and what happened to her and how she is doing now than knowing that she was denied a life for the "family image."
*If you are reading this and knowing someone in an unexpected pregnancy who may be feeling the pressure of abortion or she is contemplating it herself you may be feeling discouraged if you are her lone voice. Please, please do not give up. Give her all the pro-life information you can.
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
A Letter to my Mother
I have been going through some issues lately. My anxiety seems to come and go. Some days I am totally fine. Others I am a total basket case. During the "basket days" I can go from lethargy to anger and back and forth. One thing going on is my relationship with my mother. We have never really been estranged, but more strained. I have tried to open up communications, at first I thought she was understanding, but I feel it is more she waits for me to show vulnerability to attack me while I am wounded. The following is the first letter/email of my "coming out" in regards to the anxiety about the abortions so many years ago. I did not mention my personal abortions, just alluding to them. The letter has been slightly edited to eliminate names and/or locations that would identify me.
Hi Mom,
I will be going to grandma's on December...Christmas.
I am thinking about moving back (to hometown area). And I know I have the house and everything. I really appreciate everything you have done. But I am just not happy here anymore. I don't think I can really be happy anywhere. But I believe I could be happier (there). I would like to find a Christ centered Bible believing church. One that believes and teaches that all of the Bible is truth. Somewhere that has people of all walks of life. I think I can only find that (there). Plus I can be closer to grandma.I just want to get rid of most everything that is not needed. I have been hoarding to replace many emptinesses in my life. I have now realized that none of those are going to fill any of the voids in my life. I have been feeling this way since March of this year (2014). Perhaps even longer. But I think now I am just starting to realize the causes of my emptiness.
I will be turning 40 soon. I feel as though so much of my life has been wasted.on petty pursuits. And what do I have to show for it? Cremated cats on the fireplace shelf and one living cat. As much as I love (current cat) and the other cats before him, they are not a real family. It may be too late to have biological children of my own. But it is not too late to possibly find a man who is kind, Christian, could be a provider and protector, believes in a fidelity minded marriage, etc. And for kids there could always be adoption.
In some ways it may be good that I was never in a location where I could meet any men. I have not really liked myself much for the past almost 20 years. And creepy guys can sense that and "go in for the kill." I have spent too much time with a slight man-hating personality. Telling myself I don't want or need some stinkin man and have kids. I have convinced myself I don't like kids. All in order to protect myself and my emotions. Yet kids seem to like me.
Also I would like to become a pro-life advocate. And for me, I think I could only do that (locale). There is actually a pro-life coordinator in (this town). I don't think they do much except for an annual banquet. Perhaps they join the pro-lifers in (that other town) for things. I know this is something we don't see eye to eye on. But please understand that this is an issue that means a lot to me.
The pro-life movement is not all about "whackos" standing in front of Planned Parenthood shouting at and shaming pregnant women, calling them sinners, heathens, sluts, telling them they are going to hell or whatever. Yes, there are some like that. But that is a small minority. There are probably more whackos in the pro-choice movement than in the pro-life camp. Advocates help women in crisis pregnancies in many ways. Give them information on alternatives to abortion, guide them to agencies that can help them find housing; nutrition; medical care; taking care of basic bills, online and phone counseling. Talk to them outside of the clinics with care and compassion and a listening ear without shaming them.
And no, no one is influencing my views. I have read up on the information. I have read stories of regret, some from women as old as grandma (who are still hurting). And many of those who had the "procedure" done during the 40's, 50's or 60s had it done in a back room during off hours of a general physician. I have seen the horror stories of filthy clinics. And deaths still happen despite "legalization." Women who get infections due to carelessness from the actions of the clinics that never receive unannounced inspections from a local health inspector. Women whose organs are ruptured from the procedures. Women who become infertile. Women who have miscarriages due to damage of the cervix. Women who neglect the children they had before or after the abortions and lack any emotional intimacy with husbands or boyfriends. Pictures of post aborted babies. No matter how you slice it (no pun intended) it is not the same as "removing a tumor." A tumor is not supposed to be inside of a body. A baby is. The pregnancy may not have been planned, but in general it is a part of human nature. There is no perfect world. Even when the parents are married and purposefully attempt to become pregnant.
Anyways, I didn't mean to write so much. And I ask that you do your own research and come to your own conclusion to see if I am "being brainwashed" or if I have come to a logical conclusion. If you have any questions on more of why I am pro-life and/or information please ask, but do not attack.
Love,
(Your Daughter)
Hi Mom,
I will be going to grandma's on December...Christmas.
I am thinking about moving back (to hometown area). And I know I have the house and everything. I really appreciate everything you have done. But I am just not happy here anymore. I don't think I can really be happy anywhere. But I believe I could be happier (there). I would like to find a Christ centered Bible believing church. One that believes and teaches that all of the Bible is truth. Somewhere that has people of all walks of life. I think I can only find that (there). Plus I can be closer to grandma.I just want to get rid of most everything that is not needed. I have been hoarding to replace many emptinesses in my life. I have now realized that none of those are going to fill any of the voids in my life. I have been feeling this way since March of this year (2014). Perhaps even longer. But I think now I am just starting to realize the causes of my emptiness.
I will be turning 40 soon. I feel as though so much of my life has been wasted.on petty pursuits. And what do I have to show for it? Cremated cats on the fireplace shelf and one living cat. As much as I love (current cat) and the other cats before him, they are not a real family. It may be too late to have biological children of my own. But it is not too late to possibly find a man who is kind, Christian, could be a provider and protector, believes in a fidelity minded marriage, etc. And for kids there could always be adoption.
In some ways it may be good that I was never in a location where I could meet any men. I have not really liked myself much for the past almost 20 years. And creepy guys can sense that and "go in for the kill." I have spent too much time with a slight man-hating personality. Telling myself I don't want or need some stinkin man and have kids. I have convinced myself I don't like kids. All in order to protect myself and my emotions. Yet kids seem to like me.
Also I would like to become a pro-life advocate. And for me, I think I could only do that (locale). There is actually a pro-life coordinator in (this town). I don't think they do much except for an annual banquet. Perhaps they join the pro-lifers in (that other town) for things. I know this is something we don't see eye to eye on. But please understand that this is an issue that means a lot to me.
The pro-life movement is not all about "whackos" standing in front of Planned Parenthood shouting at and shaming pregnant women, calling them sinners, heathens, sluts, telling them they are going to hell or whatever. Yes, there are some like that. But that is a small minority. There are probably more whackos in the pro-choice movement than in the pro-life camp. Advocates help women in crisis pregnancies in many ways. Give them information on alternatives to abortion, guide them to agencies that can help them find housing; nutrition; medical care; taking care of basic bills, online and phone counseling. Talk to them outside of the clinics with care and compassion and a listening ear without shaming them.
And no, no one is influencing my views. I have read up on the information. I have read stories of regret, some from women as old as grandma (who are still hurting). And many of those who had the "procedure" done during the 40's, 50's or 60s had it done in a back room during off hours of a general physician. I have seen the horror stories of filthy clinics. And deaths still happen despite "legalization." Women who get infections due to carelessness from the actions of the clinics that never receive unannounced inspections from a local health inspector. Women whose organs are ruptured from the procedures. Women who become infertile. Women who have miscarriages due to damage of the cervix. Women who neglect the children they had before or after the abortions and lack any emotional intimacy with husbands or boyfriends. Pictures of post aborted babies. No matter how you slice it (no pun intended) it is not the same as "removing a tumor." A tumor is not supposed to be inside of a body. A baby is. The pregnancy may not have been planned, but in general it is a part of human nature. There is no perfect world. Even when the parents are married and purposefully attempt to become pregnant.
Anyways, I didn't mean to write so much. And I ask that you do your own research and come to your own conclusion to see if I am "being brainwashed" or if I have come to a logical conclusion. If you have any questions on more of why I am pro-life and/or information please ask, but do not attack.
Love,
(Your Daughter)
Friday, December 19, 2014
The Yellow Onesie
To read previous posts leading up to this one click the links below.
I Knew, Almost Soon After Conception
"Matt" Didn't Care
Her Views Turned on a Dime
Damn! That Hurt!
After a few days I returned from my mother's either I called "Matt" or he called me. I did not tell him about the abortion. He came over to my apartment. We talked. He showed me a onesie he bought for our baby, the baby that no longer exists. It was a typical yellow non gender onesie. While much of my memory is fuzzy, this is one of the exact things I remember. I remember exactly the layout of my old apartment. I remember where in the apartment I was sitting. I was sitting on "Matt's" lap and told him I had a "miscarriage." He cried. Or so I thought. It could have been crocodile tears. I am not sure. I do know that I was unable to cry. I just put my head upon his shoulder.
He never asked about any of the details. Then I was glad, because I didn't want to make anything up nor was I ready to tell him the truth. But looking back, I wonder did he suspect? Did he even actually care?
I had a horrible sinking feeling inside. Hurt because of the abortion. Felt bad because of lying to him. Angry because of all that time I was pregnant he never acknowledged that I had a child inside me. And now that she was gone he acknowledges the situation?! Where was he when I was pregnant? Why wasn't he "fighting" for me and our child?
I did have sex with him that night. I have since found out that women are told not to have sex for at least 2 weeks after the abortion. I was never told that. I was given antibiotics and instructions, but not the no having sex part. But unless it wasn't written down for me, if I was only told verbally I probably wasn't paying attention in the state of mind I was in.
"Matt" did find the antibiotics. I told him I had to take those because of the miscarriage. Next day or two he told me his sister told him that the antibiotics are only for abortions. Yeah, after the baby's gone is when he tells any of his family members. I insisted that it was a miscarriage I had. After all, my own mother convinced my that abortion and miscarriage are basically the same thing. Right? We didn't fight or anything. He just dropped the subject.
Then came having to tell my best friend. This is the friend from the Christian school who did the book report about abortion. I called and told her that I was no longer going to get married. And that I had a miscarriage. She didn't press me on details. Just gave me sympathy. I felt worse lying to her than I did to "Matt." Why didn't I say something to her, before the abortion? Maybe she would have been able to help me or find someone who could?
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Damn! That Hurt!
More of my story, previous posts in chronological order;
I Knew, Almost Soon After Conception
"Matt" Didn't Care
Her Views Turned on a Dime
This is probably the scariest part of my story in regards to the first abortion. I have told of all the events leading up to this moment.
The following may contain "colorful language" and graphic subject matter. This is also where memories seem to be the haziest.
After relenting to the having the abortion done my mother came to pick me up to take me to the town she was living in. See Her Views Turned on a Dime for more on my mother's change of heart in regards to my pregnancy. I do not remember much about the ride to her apartment. I do recall her "reassuring talk" about the daughter of one of her friends from work who had an abortion. When I asked my mother "what if this is the only chance I could have a baby" she responded with telling me about the girl's abortion. She had said that when the girl's sister was pregnant she told her mother, my mother's work friend, that the baby she was carrying could be "the spirit of her sister's aborted baby." I have recently been seeing this whole "spirit of the aborted baby come back in a new baby" sort of thing in a few "words of comfort" stories. I don't think I actually bought it then, and I sure as hell don't buy it now! But at that time, I was grabbing at straws and trying to believe anything while nothing seemed believable. S
he also told me that I would have plenty of chances to have more children and would be married and settle down. How did she know that? Did she really believe what she was saying? The future is no guarantee.
I do not know if "Matt" knew about me visiting my mother or not. I may have told him, I may have not. The next day we went to the abortion clinic. I do not know if the trauma has blocked out my memory or if I had been drugged, possibly to not notice any protestors or just basic avoid backing out. Either way, I do not recall the drive to the clinic. Though I do know exactly where it was. The locale was inside an older plaza type building. It is now another business, with a Planned Parenthood across the street in a newer building. I do not recall the walking in. I do not recall anything about the waiting area. I do not know if I sat in the waiting area or if I was ushered directly into the "procedure" room. I do not know if there were other people in the waiting area. I do not remember filling out the paper work. I do not know if my mother stayed in the waiting room or not.
The only time I was told anything about what would happen was in the "procedure" room. I was told by someone I assumed was a nurse that they would be applying local anesthesia to my cervix. Then use a few instruments to dilate the cervix. Then use a vacuum aspirator to pull the baby out. They made it sound like the baby would be pulled out in one piece. Not that that makes it any better, just less gory than the reality of it being pulled out in pieces. That seems about right. I don't think I was really listening. My body was on the exam table, but I have no clue where the hell my mind was. I do not recall actually seeing the instruments or given many details.
I do not recall when the doctor was in the room. He may have been there as soon as I arrived in the room or later after the anesthesia. Or not there at all. I really don't know.
They told me it wouldn't hurt a bit and it would just be a pinch. LIARS! It freakin hurt like hell!!! I literally felt like every damn organ was being sucked out! It was at that moment that I decided there is no God. The moment of my rejection of God is only a revelation I have only realized until now.
I must have gotten up off the table. That or I floated to the doorway. Either option is a possibility. The nurse type lady told me that I would need to sit in a recovery room. I had horrible cramping in my abdomen, bowels and rectal area. The best way to describe it was like my butthole was getting ready to release an atomic fart, but something was obstructing it. I recall making a dumb joke that I wasn't sure if I wanted to puke or take a dump. That is the last thing I remember. Perhaps I used the restroom, perhaps I didn't. I do not even remembering being in the recovery room. I do not know if I slept, read a magazine, watched TV or stared at a wall until my mother picked me up. I do not remember her taking me from the clinic.
I do not recall how long I was at my mother's apartment. I don't know if I slept or what I did during that time. The only thing I clearly remember after that was going to a Wal-Mart with my mother. We were in line waiting to purchase our items. Behind us was a couple about my age. They had a baby in a stroller with them. The baby was crying. Basic fussing, like babies do, not causing too much of a scene. I was about ready to burst into tears. I asked my mother for the car keys to wait in the car.
I bolted out of that store so fast. The moment I got in the car I bawled like never before. Tears streaming down my face and hyperventilating in my breathing. My mother got in the car. Asked me what was wrong. Really? She couldn't put the two together? I said something to the effect of "I killed my baby" or "I will never see my baby" or both of those things. Her response? Oh, that's all. I thought maybe the baby was annoying you and something about I did the right thing, it was no big deal, I would get over it, etc. Then and there I decided that the only thing to do was to be numb about the situation.
The aftermath...To be continued...
I Knew, Almost Soon After Conception
"Matt" Didn't Care
Her Views Turned on a Dime
This is probably the scariest part of my story in regards to the first abortion. I have told of all the events leading up to this moment.
The following may contain "colorful language" and graphic subject matter. This is also where memories seem to be the haziest.
After relenting to the having the abortion done my mother came to pick me up to take me to the town she was living in. See Her Views Turned on a Dime for more on my mother's change of heart in regards to my pregnancy. I do not remember much about the ride to her apartment. I do recall her "reassuring talk" about the daughter of one of her friends from work who had an abortion. When I asked my mother "what if this is the only chance I could have a baby" she responded with telling me about the girl's abortion. She had said that when the girl's sister was pregnant she told her mother, my mother's work friend, that the baby she was carrying could be "the spirit of her sister's aborted baby." I have recently been seeing this whole "spirit of the aborted baby come back in a new baby" sort of thing in a few "words of comfort" stories. I don't think I actually bought it then, and I sure as hell don't buy it now! But at that time, I was grabbing at straws and trying to believe anything while nothing seemed believable. S
he also told me that I would have plenty of chances to have more children and would be married and settle down. How did she know that? Did she really believe what she was saying? The future is no guarantee.
I do not know if "Matt" knew about me visiting my mother or not. I may have told him, I may have not. The next day we went to the abortion clinic. I do not know if the trauma has blocked out my memory or if I had been drugged, possibly to not notice any protestors or just basic avoid backing out. Either way, I do not recall the drive to the clinic. Though I do know exactly where it was. The locale was inside an older plaza type building. It is now another business, with a Planned Parenthood across the street in a newer building. I do not recall the walking in. I do not recall anything about the waiting area. I do not know if I sat in the waiting area or if I was ushered directly into the "procedure" room. I do not know if there were other people in the waiting area. I do not remember filling out the paper work. I do not know if my mother stayed in the waiting room or not.
The only time I was told anything about what would happen was in the "procedure" room. I was told by someone I assumed was a nurse that they would be applying local anesthesia to my cervix. Then use a few instruments to dilate the cervix. Then use a vacuum aspirator to pull the baby out. They made it sound like the baby would be pulled out in one piece. Not that that makes it any better, just less gory than the reality of it being pulled out in pieces. That seems about right. I don't think I was really listening. My body was on the exam table, but I have no clue where the hell my mind was. I do not recall actually seeing the instruments or given many details.
I do not recall when the doctor was in the room. He may have been there as soon as I arrived in the room or later after the anesthesia. Or not there at all. I really don't know.
They told me it wouldn't hurt a bit and it would just be a pinch. LIARS! It freakin hurt like hell!!! I literally felt like every damn organ was being sucked out! It was at that moment that I decided there is no God. The moment of my rejection of God is only a revelation I have only realized until now.
I must have gotten up off the table. That or I floated to the doorway. Either option is a possibility. The nurse type lady told me that I would need to sit in a recovery room. I had horrible cramping in my abdomen, bowels and rectal area. The best way to describe it was like my butthole was getting ready to release an atomic fart, but something was obstructing it. I recall making a dumb joke that I wasn't sure if I wanted to puke or take a dump. That is the last thing I remember. Perhaps I used the restroom, perhaps I didn't. I do not even remembering being in the recovery room. I do not know if I slept, read a magazine, watched TV or stared at a wall until my mother picked me up. I do not remember her taking me from the clinic.
I do not recall how long I was at my mother's apartment. I don't know if I slept or what I did during that time. The only thing I clearly remember after that was going to a Wal-Mart with my mother. We were in line waiting to purchase our items. Behind us was a couple about my age. They had a baby in a stroller with them. The baby was crying. Basic fussing, like babies do, not causing too much of a scene. I was about ready to burst into tears. I asked my mother for the car keys to wait in the car.
I bolted out of that store so fast. The moment I got in the car I bawled like never before. Tears streaming down my face and hyperventilating in my breathing. My mother got in the car. Asked me what was wrong. Really? She couldn't put the two together? I said something to the effect of "I killed my baby" or "I will never see my baby" or both of those things. Her response? Oh, that's all. I thought maybe the baby was annoying you and something about I did the right thing, it was no big deal, I would get over it, etc. Then and there I decided that the only thing to do was to be numb about the situation.
The aftermath...To be continued...
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?
This song by The Bee Gees seems to be stuck in my head all day.
Please (Jesus) help me mend my broken heart and let me live again...
Please (Jesus) help me mend my broken heart and let me live again...
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