The Sting Of An IV

I was 18 years old. Lying on a hospital bed. Alone. Tears were running down my face when the doctor and nurse walked in. Nothing was really said. No warm or reassuring smiles, nothing. The nurse took my arm and inserted an IV. I can still feel the initial sting from the fluids rushing into my veins. So much so I clinched my eyes closed even tighter as more tears began to run down my face. I didn’t want to look at them. I could still hear the cries of protestors outside the fence that lined the clinic. I could still see the signs even with my eyes closed…but I couldn’t bare to look at the doctor or the nurse…because I was ashamed…

I was a sophomore in college. At the time, life was fun. I was out on my own, living on campus. I had a boyfriend at the time. Someone I had known for years, someone I thought I was in love with…everything revolved around him. So, when I found out I was pregnant my initial response was happiness. He was excited as well. We were going to have a family. It was naïve of me to believe this would be a fairy tale but for those moments, that’s what I believed. 

Those moments were short lived… 

Maybe I wasn’t ready to be a mother? I’m not strong enough to raise a child by myself. What about school? My job? Not once do I remember asking God for help. Not once do I remember praying for strength. I didn’t want to speak to God. I didn’t want to acknowledge Him in any way because I knew what that would mean.

And I wasn’t ready…

When I woke up I was sitting in a recliner with a blanket over my legs. The room was dim, there was a TV on. As I began to look around there were 3-4 more recliners in that room. Each filled with a young woman. No one spoke. There was nothing to say. It was as if we all wanted to scream but were too ashamed to open our mouths…

I walked out of that abortion clinic with a dark cloud over my spirit. I hated myself for what I had done…I hated everyone and everything around me.

The day before my appointment my sister came into my room and we talked about my decision. 

She looked at me and told me I wasn’t alone. She would be there to help me raise my baby. But I was afraid and I didn’t believe I was as strong as she was. God knew I was too ashamed to go to Him. So, he came to me. My invitation back into his grace was being given through my sister. Her kindness and compassion while I struggled with my decision was something I had not received from anyone. 

But I was afraid.

A few days later, I drove back to campus. Returning to my dorm as if nothing had ever happened. But the pain of what I had done threw me back into that dark closet I fought so hard to stay out of. I walked into that dorm room different and my actions from that day forward was a reflection of that change…

People always ask if I am prochoice or prolife. I’m neither. God gave me free will to choose and although my choice was wrong and had devastating consequences it was mine to make.  

Here is what I am…

I am pro support  

For the mother who was faced with that decision and chose to walk through the doors of that clinic

 For the mother who decided to carry a child only to give it away for adoption

For the mother who kept her baby and raised it alone, with no support 

I am pro healing 

For the mother who grieves the loss of that child, whether it be due to abortion or adoption

For the mother who feels abandoned and ashamed due to her decisions

For the mother who struggles to bond with a child she never wanted

For the mother who feels so far from God that she no longer feels his presence…

I suffered through that alone for years and that’s no way to live. I share this story to give hope to those who are faced with this same burden. I share this story no longer ashamed but free from the guilt and pain that consumed me for years. Forgiven of the decision i made and blessed with three beautiful children as a testament to god’s grace. throughout, god extended his mercy and grace but i felt unworthy…but he had a plan and used the smallest gift to bring me back into his arms…