Recent legislation has sparked vicious debate over abortion. It's divided even close friends into taking the over-simplified title of "Pro-Life" or "Pro-Choice". I've witnessed many of these debates myself without joining in. The one thing I can say is, it's rarely ever been pretty. One side argues for the rights of women, while the other begs for the life of their unborn children. Often times the issue will be muddied by the subjects of rape, ectopic pregnancies, incest, underage mothers, life-threatening pregnancies, unhealthy fetuses, and many other things that aren't easy to talk about. Yes, these issues deserve careful consideration and compassion. However, they're often used as red herrings to distract from what the majority of abortions really are - women who have gotten pregnant and don't want to, or aren't able to, deal with the consequences.
Before I go on, let me say that I am speaking from personal experience. I want to make it clear that I am not judging, condemning, or casting aspersions on any woman that has sought abortion for an unwanted pregnancy. I've been there myself, and while each situation is different, I understand the fear, anger, heartbreak, and confusion that can all play a part in making this decision. My only intent is to offer a personal account of my experience with the abortion industry, in hopes that others can avoid some of the situations I encountered.
I was barely 17 when I discovered that I was pregnant. The father was my on-again-off-again boyfriend. We were always fighting, and had broken up repeatedly. I was halfway through my senior year, a straight-A honor student, a gifted musician, and gearing up for a four- year university after graduating with honors. I stayed in denial for as long as I could. Even after a month of morning sickness, a missed cycle, exhaustion and weight gain, I was too scared to take a pregnancy test. I held onto the impossible notion that ignoring the issue would make it go away.
One night, my boyfriend decided to tell my parents, "we need to talk". I wasn't ready to talk and refused to tell them why he would've said that. But when my mom asked if I was pregnant, I broke down and said I thought I might be. We set a doctor's appointment for the next day, and it confirmed my fears.
All through high school I had looked at all the pregnant girls with huge bellies and frequent sick days. Many of them dropped out soon afterwards. My biggest fear had always been a teenage pregnancy. And now, my worst fear had been realized.
My parents, though shocked and slightly afraid, were not angry. I come from a Christian, pro-life family and they were nothing but supportive. I remember them saying they wished I had made different choices, but that it wasn't the end of the world, and they would help me every step of the way to make sure my baby and I were healthy and happy. But I was still scared and angry. I had never felt so trapped or hopeless in my life. I didn't want my life ruined by a teen pregnancy. I wanted an abortion.
My mother had several miscarriages and became physically ill at the thought of me having an abortion. We fought and debated and argued. My parents couldn't understand why I would want to kill the child growing inside me. I knew nothing about babies or pregnancy, and I thought of the fetus as a parasitic blob of tissue for the first several months.
Actually getting the abortion became my sole focus. I had no car, no license, no money, and nobody to help me get it. I was too young to get one without parental consent. But through the internet I found out about the Judicial Bypass. It was an order from a judge that allowed underage girls to get abortions if they could prove that 1) they understood the process and possible consequences, and 2) having a baby would have a significantly negative impact on their life.
I began the process, filled out the application, and was soon in touch with lawyers that would help me get the process done at no charge to me. This was fully funded by pro-choice advocates. It required two or three meetings before I spoke to the judge. It also required me to get proof of pregnancy, a sonogram, and counseling from a local clinic.
During this time period I hid anything related to the judicial bypass from my parents. One night they took me to the Arlington Pregnancy Center to get counseling on what my choices were. I thought, "this is a pro-life center, and they're going to say abortion is terrible." What I found was the polar opposite from my expectations. The counselor that spoke to me personally listened to all of my reasons and concerns. She let me tell her everything about my life. She shared her own story of having an abortion at a young age and how it affected her life. She offered me flyers, brochures, and information on resources for girls in my position. I watched a video that walked me through the options of parenting the child, putting the child up for adoption, or aborting the child. It contained honest testimonies from women that had chosen each option and how they felt about it. Afterwards, they gave me a free sonogram and let me see the baby. I remember watching the movement of the fetus and realizing that it was a baby, with limbs, eyes, a heartbeat, and obviously my hyperactivity. The women prayed for me, cried with me, and gave me their personal cell numbers. They offered support and counseling whether I chose to keep the baby or abort. Most importantly, they offered me hope.
In the days afterwards, my relationship with my parents went into a downward spiral. I became depressed. I was sick, exhausted, and could no longer feel the spark of hope I'd felt at the pregnancy center. Before long, I was back in touch with the lawyers. I told them my parent's thoughts on the issue and that I had no transportation. On the day I was to speak with the judge, one lawyer picked me up from school in the middle of the day without permission from my parents or the school. She took me to the courthouse. I spoke to the female judge eloquently, and she expressed surprise at my maturity, intelligence and composure. She granted the bypass without any hesitation. I had never felt such accomplishment and despair at the same time. When I was handed the official judicial bypass, the lawyer high-fived me and then took me to Sonic for lunch. She dropped me back off at school with her business card, and I never saw her again.
I had to take a taxi to the women's clinic. I had to receive a sonogram and counseling from them before I could go through with the abortion. The building was in a bad part of town and was not in good repair. I was alone in an ugly part of a big city, and no one knew where I was. A sense of uneasiness latched on to me. When I walked in, I was greeted by a woman with a shaved head that seemed to hate her job. She was cold and unfriendly, refusing to make eye contact. She gave me the routine paperwork and told me to sit down and wait. I sat in the empty waiting room watching Jerry Springer on TV for almost an hour.
The visit was a blur. The doctor rushed through the sonogram and refused to let me see the screen. She told me I was about 13 weeks along and would have to get the abortion within the next week. I set an appointment for the next day. I didn't have enough money to take a taxi home, and had no ride. In a panic, I called home. My mom refused to get me. My brother didn't want me in that part of town alone, but my mom wouldn't let him borrow the $5 he needed for gas to get there. Though he didn't support my decision, he pawned his Xbox to have the gas money to come get me. The whole ordeal had me even more convinced that I had made the right choice.
The next morning, I had to be part of a phone conference where a doctor explained the procedure. There were so many women on the line, I couldn't hear a thing. The doctor spoke quietly in a monotone voice as I struggled to hear him through the sounds of chatter, arguing, children crying, and lawnmowers. I left the conference with no better understanding than when I started.
I had to take yet another taxi to the clinic for my appointment to abort. As I pulled up, I saw a parking lot full of people. They were holding graphic signs of bloody, dismembered babies. Some signs assured me that I was going to hell and there would be no redemption for people like me. The crowd was screaming and yelling at us, but it was unintelligible. They seemed more like an angry mob than sidewalk counselors. By the time I made it inside, I was shaking.
After waiting what seemed like forever, I was called to the back. The same doctor as before performed another sonogram on me to double check the size and weight of the fetus. I started to feel relief that it was almost over, but then I saw her face.
She told me to get up and wait in the hall. I sat there, confused and scared. I overheard her arguing with the nurse. Apparently, the baby that had measured in at 13 weeks the day before was measuring 16 weeks today and there was no way they could legally perform the abortion. After re-doing the sonogram with another nurse, the doctor gave me the number for a late-term abortion clinic and told me to leave. She was visibly angry. As I walked out, I heard her telling the nurse how stupid it was that they were going to lose funding over faulty machinery. I called the taxi again and sat in the waiting room till it arrived. As I walked out, the previously raging protestors just stared at me silently. For the first time all day, they had nothing to say. Between the judgments of the protestors, the behavior of my own parent, and the way the clinic staff treated me once they found out I couldn't abort, I hit an all-time low.
I spent the rest of the pregnancy in a deep depression. I wore giant sweaters in the middle of summer and hid it from as many people as possible. But once I started reading books on pregnancy and feeling the baby start kicking around, and even getting hiccups, my heart changed. I finished the last half of my senior year in two weeks at a self-paced school for at-risk youth. I got my diploma. Just before my 18th birthday, I had a beautiful, healthy baby boy. I had my diploma, my family back, a beautiful child, and even started college within a few months.
My son is about to turn two years old. I've been able to work, go to school, and excel as a musician and artist. My family and church have been nothing but loving and supporting every step of the way. It wasn't easy. I battled post-partum depression, major anxiety, and many other issues. But every time I hear that little voice say "Mommy", I realize I'd do it all over again. The doctor at the clinic was angry that she couldn't do the abortion because of 'faulty equipment'. Looking back, it seems more like divine intervention. My son has made such an impact on me that my life has done a complete 180. Before the pregnancy, I had everything together on the surface, but was self-destructing on the inside. I wrestled with drugs, alcohol, abusive relationships, self injury, and many other things that weren't apparent to anyone. Since then, I've discovered a whole new sense of hope, joy, and purpose that I never had before.
An unplanned child can still be a blessing to you, or to a family that desperately wants a child and can't have one. I have nothing but compassion for women that either have had or are considering abortion. I used to be adamantly pro-choice myself. But I've experienced firsthand that pro-choice doctors are about money, and almost nothing more. They offered me no choice at all, only reasons that I should abort at their clinic. And when I couldn't do it, they tossed me out like trash.
My life has not turned out how I thought it would. It's turned out better than I could've imagined. It's been difficult, crazy, and abnormal. But in the end, it's all working out for the best. I do not advocate teen pregnancy. But if you do find yourself in that situation, make sure you REALLY know what your choices are. Listen to the people that give you hope. Now that I'm past the fear and panic of unplanned pregnancy, I can honestly say that the baby I wanted to kill saved my life in the end.
Thank you, Laura, for sharing your heart so transparently. I remember my wife and I having to make the same decision almost 23 years ago before we were married. I remember feeling scared and ashamed. I did not want to face my family, her family, either of our churches.... Even though I had been adamantly pro-life to that point in time, I still remember thinking how much easier it would be if we didn't have to face the consequences of our decision; if I could just conveniently talk her into having an abortion. We sent to a crisis pregnancy center to confirm that she was pregnant and thankfully I did not even try to persuade her to abort. I knew where she stood, and I also knew the difference between right and wrong. The road since has not been an easy one. We've frequently struggled financially and I never did go to flight school or become a pilot like I planned. However, there have been other rewards far greater: an appreciation for the gift children really are, laughter, humility (and occasionally humiliation), servanthood, and leadership. I would not change that decision 23 years later, even if I could have all the things I missed out on. My life would be far emptier; far less meaningful. Thank you for sharing your story. I pray God continues to richly bless you and your son.
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