How One Abortion Saved the Lives of Many
- Thursday, January 20, 2011
When I was 19, I found out I was pregnant for the third time. A miscarriage, a two year old… and pregnant again. I was homeless, living with friends, and - despite my "Christian" upbringing - convinced the only solution was abortion. My boyfriend agreed to take me to the abortion clinic. On the appointed day, while I was waiting for him to pick me up, I got a call saying he could not take me after all because he had been picked up and formally charged with 2nd degree murder. At the time, that sort of ruined my day.
Then I started jumping through more hoops. My insurance wouldn't pay for an abortion and nobody I knew had the money to loan me. Out of desperation I called a crisis pregnancy center. I told them my situation - that I was homeless, that I had a two year old I could barely take care of, and that I was feeling pretty desperate - but they had a solution. They knew a family who had built dorms on their little farm so they could offer a home to girls exactly like me. So I packed up my two-year-old and meager belongings and moved in with them.
That's where my life truly began to change. This family had three young children of their own, one of them with Down syndrome and leukemia, yet it didn't stop them from pouring their lives into a very nasty, uneducated, beastly, selfish, messed up, trashy teenager.
I was unlovable, and yet they loved me. They led by example and their patience was supernatural.
Shortly after I arrived, the "house mom," Kim, told me why they invested so much money and time to make themselves available for girls like me. When she was my age she had been in the same situation, but no crisis pregnancy center or willing family had come forward to help her. So she had an abortion. This affected her so emotionally and psychologically that she swore she would do everything in her power to help other girls avoid the tragic mistake she had made. Truly, "God uses all things for the good for those who love him." (Romans 8:28)
Time moved on slowly, yet quickly. I found out I was having a son. I began to feel him move around and kick. I would lie in bed and have panic attacks thinking how close I came to ending his life. As he grew, my love for him grew. How could I give this little fellow away? But how could I keep him in the position I was in? I continued interviewing possible parents.
Then I heard about the Fletchers, a couple that wasn't even looking to adopt. They had already adopted a little boy. I had looked through scores of portfolios of couple who longed for children, but none of them had seemed quite right. I still can't explain why, but I knew I needed to meet the Fletchers.
I met Glenda at a park, and I knew as I walked toward her that she was supposed to be my son's mom. I got to know them better and saw how much they loved God and loved each other. Even though I didn't truly know God at the time, I knew that He was orchestrating this entire event and that I was absolutely doing what was pre-planned by Him.
When Aaron was born - well, what can I say? The tears are already coming again as I write this. Of course it was excruciating. Is there anything worse than the loss of a child? The nurses at the hospital were so kind. They set me up in a private room after he was born so I could avoid the eyes and cheery conversation of other new moms. At one point a nurse came in to check on me. She said, "I'll get your son if you want to hold him. He's still yours until tomorrow." I shook my head and she seemed a little perplexed. Finally I broke down in sobs and told her that if I were to hold him in my arms I knew I could never let him go.
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