It is assumed that abortion is uncommon. That is a lie. Abortion is currently the #1 cause of death in America. More lives are taken by abortion than all other leading causes combined. Abortion is the #1 social injustice of our time.
This page is dedicated to the stories of the victims of abortion. This is a safe place for those affected by abortion to tell how it has affected their lives. We pray these stories will shed light on this hidden, terrible tragedy.
In June of 1996 I got really, really sick. I was in bed for days and couldn't keep any food down. My mom took me to the doctor because I had been so sick for so long. That is where I found out that I was pregnant. It was a complete shock to me because I had never even considered that possibility. I was blindsided, embarrassed, confused, ashamed, and had never felt so alone.
16 years old and pregnant.
As quickly as I found out that gut-wrenching news, I was taken to the hospital because I was severely dehydrated and needed fluids. I was also given drugs to help with the nausea which caused me to sleep for hours and hours. I barely remember even having a chance to process the news I had been given. I was able to call Bryan and tell him the news but even though he knew, I had to handle this situation on my own.
The very next morning, after being released from the hospital, I went to an abortion clinic. I've tried to block the memory so many times that its become hard to remember it clearly but I do remember the way I felt. Being there was the most surreal, horrible, shameful, hard, ugly, painful thing I have ever done.
I will always wonder what would have happened if even one person had reminded me that there were other options, but no one did. Abortion felt like the only option for me. I wish they had shown me the ultrasound or let me hear the heartbeat, but they didn't. I cried a bucket of tears while I was there but everyone just acted like it was just another Wednesday (or whatever day it was).
That day was the day the shame became my constant companion.
I never, ever spoke of the abortion with anyone, even the people who knew. I carried the burden alone and make no mistake, it is a very heavy burden. In 2012 a sweet friend of mine wrote a blog sharing that she had also had an abortion when she was 17. I secretly contacted her and asked if we could talk. We began meeting weekly to do a post-abortive Bible study together. That was a time of tremendous growth in my life. I finally allowed myself to accept God's forgiveness and see myself as a new creation. I still dealt with engulfing shame, however. I still never spoke of it. I was still so afraid for anyone to find out the truth about my past.
In 2016 I was prompted by the Holy Spirit, during a worship service, to tear down the walls I had built up around my heart. To go deeper in my walk with Him, I needed to trust Him with my story. So, I shared my story for the first time on my blog, A Life Of Gratitude. The outpouring of love and kindness from that blog was overwhelming! I realized quickly that God could be trusted and I knew then that He would eventually use my story in more ways, to bring Himself glory!
In 2019 my church recorded a video of me sharing my story and the freedom I've found in Jesus. It touched so many hearts. 10 days later I began leading a post-abortive Bible study (the same on I had done 6 years before.) God began to stir within me and Not Forgotten Ministries was born.
My story isn't an easy one to tell but I am so grateful for the freedom I've found and helped others find. Jesus wants so much for us. He doesn't want us to live covered in shame. He wants to use our stories to help others find freedom or make a different choice. He wants us to live abundant lives that point others to Him!
Over the years God has overwhelmed me with His goodness. He allowed me to marry the boy that got me pregnant. and He has blessed us with 4 incredible children after having one miscarriage in 2007. After much time spent in prayer, I believe the baby aborted on June 19, 1996 was a baby girl and the baby I miscarried in August of 2007 was a little boy. Our entire family is pictured above. One day we will all be together again. Until then, they are not forgotten.
I push forward on this journey in their memory and for God's glory!
Thank you Jen Howard Photography, for creating this beautiful illustration of our family.
I am 59 years old and I still think about the abortion I had when I was 22. My abortion was due to rape but I wasn't raped by a stranger. The man who was my first partner was the one who raped me. I never reported it because I didn't think anyone would believe I was raped by the man I was having sex with. When I found out I was pregnant I informed him and he said, " Do what you want. I don't want to be involved." So, I killed a life because I was so hurt.
As a result of the rape and abortion, I became promiscuous and never had that family I always wanted. I serve a forgiving God and know I have been forgiven. Years later, when I had my first and only child. I hoped for a girl but had a boy. I often wonder if the child I aborted was my girl.
This flower reminds me of a flower outside of the abortion clinic.
My abortion was via the pill. I was 4-5 weeks along. The reason for my abortion is not a justified one. The fact is, I was in a position where I let the world's thoughts about my family and I become more important than that of God's. It was not an easy choice to make but again, I cared more about what others would say and do to my family. I can't even remember the name of the facility I went to in Charlotte and believe it's because I didn't want to remember. I chose Charlotte because I didn't want to risk seeing familiar faces. When I walked in, it seemed nice, but past the reception area, it felt like a factory for abortions. So many women and girls were there to have their abortions, many of them who had already been there more than 6 times. Two of the women I encountered had been there 12 and 13 times. I felt like I was in literal Hell! My faith in God was so weak, therefore I stayed.
It was the worst 4 hours of my life. Waiting and waiting just to get 2 pills. 1 for that day and 1 for the next. I felt so dirty, as if I had no other option. In my mind, I had no other option, because if I had the baby, I knew my heart wouldn't allow me to give him/her away. The reason for my abortion, came down to lack of faith in God.
I couldn't wait to get out of there. When I did, I cried most of the ride back home. 2 days later is when it happened. I dropped my baby in the toilet, a blood clot the size of half of my palm is what it looked like. Then I flushed it away. I didn't know that was how easy it was going to be.
At times I asked myself if it even really happened. Then I would remember seeing the sonogram before they gave me the pill.
The most crying I did was on the ride back home. I've been waiting to feel really remorseful for what I did but although I knew I committed that sin, I took a life that was not mine to take, my mind still couldn't believe it was real.
One night I read several psalms because I felt so lonely, so unworthy, a battle I've been dealing with for over a year now, and after reading Psalms 1, 3, 6, 13, 16, 17, 28, 31, 37, and 38 I was able to truly repent. I felt God. I felt his forgiveness soon after I gave Him my heart about this. I asked not only God for forgiveness but I also asked it from my unborn child. I know my family will be reunited with him/her. I also know that neither God, nor my baby in heaven, want me to continue to suffer because of the decision I made.
I have always been against abortion and still am. However, I now understand why women make that choice. For some it may be easy to carry the baby for 40 weeks and then give it up to another but for some of us, especially experienced mothers, we know we wouldn't be able to bear it. Some of us have lack of faith in God and feel we will be left alone to raise the baby and, if applicable, to deal with the world's thoughts and actions against us for having the child.
I wish my relationship with God had been stronger. If so, I would have 4 children right now.
Growing up I was the epitome of what a good Christian girl looked like. I was in church every time the doors were open, was a straight A Christian high school student and graduated from a Christian college. In my early twenties after my abusive and tumultuous marriage ended in divorce. Being from a profoundly Baptist church background where divorce was highly frowned upon not to mention abuse of a husband was rarely addressed, I found myself a single parent of two precious baby boys and in a lonely dark place. I felt shunned by the very Christian people that I had once considered my family. I felt as if I wore the letter D on all of my clothing that stood for divorced. It was painful and I was hurting. Nobody cared why I was divorced just that I was.
After 2 or so years of being a single parent, a knight in shining amour rode into my life which I thought I so needed at that time in my life. After a year or so of dating, I found out I was pregnant. The father of the baby did not want any more children, so I would have been left to provide for this baby alone. I was extremely sick and missing work. I was in fear that I would lose the only means of support I had for my children. Then I thought "what will people say?" Then my thoughts turned to "well.... I can have an abortion that way nobody will ever have to know about my unplanned pregnancy and I will never have to hear the disappointment and feel the pain of their judgmental looks."
This year the baby would be graduating high school but those are things I will never get to experience with them because I chose what I thought was easiest, abortion. 1 out of 4 women and men sitting on church pews every week have been or will be affected by the pain of abortion either directly or indirectly at some point in their life. Most of those people will forever suffer in silence never to speak of what happened again. Upon entering the door of the abortion clinic a sick feeling fell on me not that of being pregnant but of what was to happen. The lady at the desk gave me a number and asked me to fill out some paperwork. She hardly looked at me just sounded mechanical in her actions, I was just another number. I remember sitting there looking around the room thinking “why are you all here what is your reason for going through this?” When they called my number alone I walked towards the door. The room was plain just a table and tray of instrument and what look kind of like a vacuum. I thought to myself what am I doing here? I felt as if I was frozen and could not get away. Silence filled the room as I walked to my orange recliner just as all of the other ladies that had gone before me were sitting in waiting to be released. Most of the ladies sat with their heads hung low while some were almost curled into a fetal position. Not a sound was uttered. There are some things in life that take your breath, some that take your words, some that take you will to live, some that take your soul, on this occasion all of those feeling collided. What the abortion industry will never tell you is that you will forever be changed after having an abortion. You will leave the clinic empty of life both the baby’s life and your own. You may lose your ability to feel emotions, care about others and yourself and may deeply desire to no longer live your own life. Abortion is not healthcare it is in fact the beginning of a filled with despair.
I lived my life hanging on by a thread. It was not the thread of His garment because I no longer felt like I deserved to live as a Christian or call God my Heavenly Father. I had lost that privilege with my decision to abort my child. As a matter of fact, I no longer deserved any good in my life at all so I set out to punish myself. I stayed with that same man for another year and got pregnant 2 more times. I could not let go of the decision I had made the first time and felt having a child was something I did not deserve. I chose 2 more times to have an abortion. I only remember coming out of the clinic in Greensboro NC after my second abortion. There was a sweet young blonde girl who walked me out to my car. While we were walking to the car she kept saying you will be alright, I was thinking the entire time “what in the world is a sweet sweet pretty girl like you working in a place like this!!” I wanted to tell her to get out of there because it was such a horrible place. Never once in thinking those thoughts about her did I think it about myself. You see I deserved every terrible thing I got because I had done the ultimate sin one that God would never forgive. I left that relationship and went on with a promiscuous life of no strings attached relationships. I lost myself in a sea of despair for so many years. I could barely enjoy raising my boys for feeling like I did not deserve to be happy but deserved to be punished. Finally, God spoke to me and got my attention.
I looked for healing after 15 years of carrying my guilt and shame. I found a post abortive Bible study at a pregnancy support center. The facilitator of that group called me because she knew how hard it is to commit to coming even after you sign up for the study. Kim asked me that day if she could just tell me her story. I dropped to my knees and sobbed as I listened to her story of redemption. I am so thankful Kim was brave enough to tell her story because God used it to forever change my life. I have never regretted reaching out to find my healing in Jesus Christ and through His blood that was shed on Calvary. My continual prayer is that God will use my testimony to help in the fight to save babies and mothers as well as a beacon of light for those who need forgiveness and hope of being set free. "For if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed." John 8:36 Because I have been set free and so many others need to be set free from captivity, I will be silent no more!
I made the phone call and the very pleasant receptionist reassured me that it would be quick, practically painless, and there would be support if I needed it. The appointment was made.
The days that followed were full of opinions. Friends were supportive, even encouraging. My counselor gave me the go-ahead. One friend even offered to drive me there and wait till I needed a ride home. Only one offered an alternative view which burned in my mind but I numbed that sentiment with reasoning.
The night before the appointment I wondered how I got here in the first place. I was an intelligent woman, fairly attractive, liked by most. I had a promising career in the medical field performing cardiac testing …helping to save lives. Granted, I wasn’t in a stable relationship at the time. I kept rebounding. But the reboundee would not hear of the details…he only wanted the problem to be dispensed of. He offered no support, just a few bucks to appease me. The thought I am alone in this plagued me. I cried out to a god I didn’t know. Asked this unknown deity to make it go away. I beat on my belly. Reasoned It doesn’t matter, no one hears you…get on with it. So I slept a restless sleep.
I awakened to the sound of an alarm blaring the dawning of a new day. By the end of today I will be freed of my burden. I would go on with my life as if this never happened.
My friend Debbie picked me up promptly at 8 a.m. We drove to the clinic in Englewood, NJ. As I walked in the door I sensed a dazed-like state on the faces of those who sat in the waiting area. A tv blared out a comedy as women blindly stared at it. No-one looked at each other.
I checked in. Name? Driver’s license? Phone number? Emergency contact? Last period? Allergic to any meds? That will be $300.00 cash. A white wristband was placed on me and I sat with the others, blinded by the distraction.
We were called in groups of 3. A hospital gown was given to each of us, then we sat as corralled stock in another waiting area. I glanced over to the girl at my right. Her swelling tummy was visible. It caught me by surprise. Sitting on the stiff seat I glibly thought “at least I’m not that far along.” My guilt was somehow appeased by that thought.
Looking to the other side of the waiting area I noticed 3 curtains where the examination would take place. A nurse guided me behind the curtain onto a stretcher bed as a white coated doctor told me to place my feet in the stirrups. He hadn’t even told me who he was…he just put his latex gloves on and examined. “Eight weeks”, he muttered. "At least its still only tissue," I thought.
Doctor No-Name left the room and a nurse asked me if I wanted to be totally anesthetized so I would be completely knocked out or partially…sort of a half-dream state. I opted for the partial, reasoning that it would wear off more quickly and I’d be back to normal with minimal side effects. Immediately, the nurse prepared me for the I.V. that would contain the anesthesia. When it was ready the unidentified doctor came back in the cubicle.
Within minutes the pain was so unbearable I started to cry out. I can remember the nurse holding my arm as I intuitively reached to stop him from the procedure. I could see him nod at the nurse and before I knew it someone was waking me up and telling me it was time to leave. I just wanted to go back to sleep…to sleep it off…maybe never wake up. But this new nurse was abrupt and harsh. She motioned for me to get up and get moving.
I kept leaning on Debbie as she helped me get dressed. I kept apologizing for being so unable to hold myself up. Walking gingerly out past the waiting area I half-noticed a different movie was playing now and a new group of women was staring. I passed the reception desk with not even a reassuring nod from one of them. We walked out the doors into the parking lot. As I was about to enter the car a wave of nausea overcame me and I promptly vomited in the parking lot. We drove home in silence.
I climbed the stairs to my 3rd story attic apartment and found a safe place to store the documents given to me by the Planned Parenthood staff, hiding the evidence of my crime. I sat on the floor in the doorway of my bedroom. I felt the slight nausea subside, feeling physically lighter yet emotionally heavier than I’ve ever felt.
A cry sprung forth from a place deep within.
I cried for myself. For the child. I cried for all the women who undergo this. For my loneliness. Throwing my pillow at the wall I cursed the god I didn’t know. I wanted to blame someone for my pain…my parents, my upbringing, the nuns, the father, my culture. I felt myself shaking and weeping for this child that I would never meet. I thought it would all be over but as it turned out, it was only the beginning of a journey that would take me to a place of self-denigration.
Though my child went through a physical death, I went through an emotional death that was just as sudden and unsuspecting. The years that followed were a downhill spiral, until I met the Healer.
Now, instead of mourning over the loss, I know that one day there will be a marvelous human who shares my genetics waiting for me on the other side. Memories of that experience still grip my heart and bring me to tears because choices have consequences. I am being held by the One who holds my child and only because of His mercy will our lives mesh together again and we will live in the circle of His love…in a place that is immeasurably safer than a mother’s womb.