The reality is...

Abortion from the Other Side

In this election year, it seems this is a hot button topic again, which is why I chose now to put this out there.

I see your pictures of aborted fetuses on facebook. I read your rants about how dismembering babies is called abortion. I see your charts of statistics, aborted babies verses how many people have died in wars and in the holocaust. And I agree with you, it is an abomination. But can I tell you a story? Will you listen to me awhile? I have a question, Church, can we love her? Can we reach out our hands and love the young woman that has just left the clinic? You ask the question “How could she?” I am asking the question, “Where are you?” Where is the love of Christ at this moment for the hurting, confused young woman that sees no other way? No way to provide, no way to a future? You say she is selfish, I say look in the mirror. Before you decide that I am a pro-choice liberal fanatic, let me tell you a story about a walk in these shoes.

The year 1983, the community is one that still whispers divorce behind their hands. The council to a young woman about birth control and the truth about abortion is scarce.

19 years old and pregnant. You have got to be kidding me! Perhaps I am just late. She goes on with her life, taking classes, working part time, studying, and hoping to make something of herself. Wanting to be someone, hoping to get out of this time warp that she lives in. She finally tells her best friend, “I think I am pregnant.” Oh no! Where is he? “Gone. Hoping to find work elsewhere.”  What are you going to do? “Well I can’t tell my parents! They would flip, they don’t even like him, and it would ruin them emotionally. I can’t do that.” Ok, we’ll go to the clinic, I’ll be with you the whole time. “OK, promise?” Yes, make the call, tell me when. 

Arriving at the clinic at 730 am, they tell you to take a seat in a waiting room with half a dozen other girls. All young, and scared and no one makes direct eye contact. When you are called you are handed a clip board and about a dozen forms to sign. I robotically sign them all and turn them back in. I have no idea what they all said. I just want this day to be over. When they call your name, you are taken into a room to see a psychologist. She asks you if you are sure you want to have an abortion. Asks if you have told your parents, or if you think you can. I barely remember this part, but the walls were green. When that is over you are then taken back into the exam type area of the clinic and given a robe and told to get undressed. You meet the nurse, who was very kind to me. I never saw the doctors face, he wore a mask. He tells you there will be some “discomfort”. Biggest lie ever. There is considerable pain, and in some ways the “procedure” takes forever and in some ways it is over too soon. Once it is over you are given a pad and told to get dressed and to go into the recovery area. There they give you some juice and crackers. After what I think was a necessary 30 minutes you receive some antibiotics and are told you are free to leave if you feel well enough to go. The need to flee that place, get some fresh air, and get as far away from there as possible is overwhelming. But the lie continues to snow ball, because even though you have physically left the building you can never leave the events of that day behind you. Ever! That day follows you for the rest of your days and nights. You now mark time in your head as before the abortion and after the abortion. You feel an overwhelming guilt, shame, embarrassment, and dirtiness that you cannot wash away.  You never forget the date of that day. The first time I saw a newborn baby after the abortion I thought I would lose it! Perfect little tiny hands and feet, (I love baby feet), tiny nose and mouth and the smell, oh the smell. You wonder, what if! What if! It blares so loud in your head!

The enemy was crafty; he made that young woman think there was no other way. No way to make it work. No one to understand. And the lie compounds and compounds, till she believes it and follows through with the only solution that seems to be available. The only way, abortion. The liar says that it will all be over after the procedure, after that day. But it is never over for her. She remembers that day every year as the calendar approaches that date. She wonders every year, what would her baby be doing, what color hair would he/she have. Would it have been a boy or a girl?

And the tormentor of her soul is loud and cruel and unrelenting. What might have made a difference you ask? What can we do today to make a difference? Stop judging. That is what you are doing by posting those abortion pictures; stop condemning by posting those stats, stop sneering when the topic comes up. (Doing those things does not prevent a woman from having an abortion).The enemy does that to us enough, he beats us up with nightmares and visions, he talked us into the nightmare and then he holds us down with it.  Be there Church, be kind. The young girl that finds herself pregnant did not get that way alone, don’t cast stones at her. Don’t judge, her sin is no weightier than yours. Be there with the love of Christ. Offer your help. Promote education about adoption. If the young girl is in your family, be there. Be strong, be helpful, be practical, and be kind. She is going to need a lot of support. You will have to put hands and feet to your faith, walk it out. Babysit, make a meal, make a lot of meals, buy some diapers, or groceries. Offer to pay a light bill. Before you post another ugly picture that casts stones and causes hurt to 1 out of 5 women on your friend list, think about what you can do that is practical, helpful, and loving to a young woman. Jesus said “he who is without sin, cast the first stone.” And one by one they all dropped their rocks and left. I am asking you to drop your rocks.  I know now that GOD has forgiven me, without the mercy of the cross, I would have eventually lost my mind or my life at my own hand.  The absolute hardest thing to do, is forgive yourself. Seeing those stats reopens the wound to a soul, and the doubting comes and the dirtiness descends. Maybe if I had been told the truth; that it was not just a blob of tissue that it is was more than a fetus; it was a baby with tiny hands and feet and a beating heart, that might have made a difference. I honestly do not know.

Let us promote education and love. Loving one another as Christ Himself loves us, dispensing grace instead of judgment. Dispensing love, and practical solutions, instead of condemnation, and accusations.  

Please understand that with Christ in my heart and Heaven as my home, I am pro life for both the unborn and the young woman who finds herself pregnant and afraid. Hoping education will one day end abortions, because contrary to popular thought, abortion is never over after the procedure is done. It is an event that a woman never gets over, and never forgets, but there is healing at the Cross of JESUS CHRIST and there are other options. Be the hands and feet of JESUS, helping those who need HIS grace poured out for them as it was for us all. Be The Church that “she” needs you to be.

 On The Road To Beautiful~

Jean A. Adams