It was in 2000, December 20th. “It is the only thing to do”, I was repeating myself. A friend took some time off to be my ride. He and I were in what I called a “comfort relationship”. He was a married friend with whom I was having an affair. He was an observant Jew, and now that I am a practicing Catholic, I wonder: did he really approve of abortion? Could the baby have been his and not the son of the abusive man who caused me to be there?
After a child’s life is ended in abortion, there is nothingness and many questions remain unanswered.
Sitting in that clinic, I was disturbed and if somebody had said anything, even if the God I didn’t believe in had shown a sign, I’m pretty sure I would have left.
I always felt that I was having a boy. His due date was the day before my mother’s birthday. How could I ever forget that?
I had told my best friend (my sister) that I was pregnant and she was happy for me. Telling her was like seeking my family’s approval for having a child out of wedlock. I had registered at the hospital for labor and delivery. I picked a preschool. It was five days before Christmas and I was having an abortion against my better judgment. But it wasn’t the first time. In January 1994, I was standing in a cold room and was told to swallow abortive pills. I remember thinking: “maybe these pills are going to kill me and surely they are going to kill my baby”.
I was extremely anxious when I was put to sleep. I thought that maybe I was not going to wake up and surely the baby won’t. I was crying, staring at the nurses and doctor’s faces, desperate for a deus ex machina to stop everything. But nothing happened and they carried on the dirty job.
I will never forget the expression of disgust on the gynecologist’s face weeks after the abortion when he said: “you know, you were border line on the legal time limit.” I shuddered and ignored his words. Today I can face the hard truth: my baby was too big for the barbaric instruments they used.
My abortion anniversaries come in December and January and there is nothing I can do to turn back the clocks and undo them.
Experience taught me that women having abortions are not cold-hearted robots enjoying their right to choose. Often, there is a lot of confusion and distress involved.
Today, I have God in my life, a caring husband and sincere friends. One of them pledged months ago to stay by my side on December 20th, even though she is a busy homeschooling Mom of five. We will go to Mass, we will pray together. I will probably cry but her presence will remind me that I am loved and forgiven.