I watched a show tonight called "Cold Case," and it had to do with a group of people who helped young women back in the 60's when abortion was illegal. They would take the women to see a real doctor who performed a more humane "procedure" than charletons who used hangers, bike spokes and the like. The doctor had to do this "underground," otherwise he would be arrested and lose his license. The show really bothered me as it always does when I hear about abortion.
I had forgotten it was illegal back in the 60's. When I had the first abortion, it was 1974 and it cost me $300. I borrowed the money from my great uncle who gave it willingly, even though I told him I needed the money to fix my car. I decided to have the abortion because the father of the baby didn't want anything to do with "it" and actually told me that it was my problem. I was 18 at the time, and a very young 18, so I figured it really was my problem.
The procedure itself was very uncomfortable. It felt like a vacuum cleaner sucking my insides out and my stomach moved involuntarily. I really had no idea what I was doing and did it because I felt like I had no choice. When I got to the recovery room, there was another girl in there doing her nails. I was in so much pain and bleeding heavily, all I could do was lay down. She told me that this was her 7th or 8th abortion. I remember thinking how in the world could she do this that many times? I laid there on the bed with my back toward her and cried quietly, but I had no idea why I was crying. I felt alone and abandoned and in a great deal of pain and all I could do was cry. And part of me felt guilty, but I don't know why, because I was never taught that it was wrong. After awhile, they checked me and told me I was good to go, and so I just drove home. It was all very unceremonious. I got home and went to sleep to avoid feeling what I was feeling that day. Because I knew tomorrow would be a better day.
The second abortion I had, I did so because I felt that I had to. I became very sick and had pneumonia with a lung infection and the doctor put me on steroids and other strong medication. I knew I was pregnant, but I couldn't breathe, so I decided this was all I could do. This was when Jason was about 4 years old. I was living in the Verona Hotel at the time and couldn't breathe so I stayed in bed the whole time, while the tv was my babysitter, until I found a doctor who knew what to do. One day, I told Jason to go across to the manager's office and ask them for a roll of toilet paper. He was gone for a long time and I was beginning to get worried, when the manager came and knocked on my door. I called to say "Come in," and the manager had Jason by the hand. She told me that he walked across Verona Road, which was a highway back then, walked up to the nearest house, rang the doorbell and asked them for a roll of toilet paper. I was mortified that he had walked across the road and beside myself that he could have been very easily hit by a car. God's angels were watching over him even back then. I finally saw a doctor in Verona who knew what was wrong with me, after going to all three hospitals in Madison, and he gave me the correct medication to cure me. I don't have a memory of this abortion, probably because I felt like I had no choice but to do it. Or maybe it's because I pushed it to the furthest parts of my mind so I wouldn't be able to recall it. Or it could be a combination of both.
If you know someone who is contemplating an abortion or is confused on what to do, send them my way. I had no one to help me back then, no one to talk to about it and get counsel from. I was all alone and I had to make 2 very significant decisions. I regret those decisions and will until the day I die. I think sometimes what it would have been like if I had let those babies grow to full term. I wonder if I will see them in heaven. I try not to think a lot about them because it makes me very sad, but the reality is that they were a reality at one point, but are not any longer.
Like lots of things you can't change, I place them in the hands of God. He knows and He cares and He even forgave me for what I did. I don't know how I could live without His mercy and grace, with all of the poor decisions and actions I've made in my lifetime.
And yet, He loves me still...
No comments:
Post a Comment