A couple of nights ago I awoke from a dream, my heart racing. In the dream, I was pregnant and had gone to a clinic for an abortion (apparently this newsletter is taking a toll on my psyche). Two nice women welcomed me and asked me the date of my last period. The problem is that I don’t menstruate, as I had an
When I was 17 I thought I became pregnant from a one-night stand with a very nice boy whose last name I never knew. I went to a place in town to get tested and learn my options. I was given a cup to collect my urine, which I handed off to the woman in attendance, and was given pamphlets to read. One told me I would go to hell if I had an abortion. The second contained personal stories from women who regretted their abortions. The one that stuck out talked about how vacuuming the house brought this woman back to the day she allowed her child to be torn from her body. Then the attending woman came back and lectured me on how my life would be destroyed by an abortion decision. How wicked I would feel. She left me in a pool of tears to get the results of my test. She was visibly disappointed that the result was negative. I ran from that place. That experience was the start of a shift for me... the first chink in the armor. I went from a sweet, naive young woman who believed in God the way everyone seemed to believe in God - blind acceptance without really thinking about it too deeply, to questioning the "truths" put before me by others. And that questioning continues to this day. The intention from that clinic was to stop abortions, but to also make sure the fear of God and inevitable fiery repercussions were were drilled way into my head. Maybe to further my love of God, in some twisted way. It had the opposite effect, alas. And that clinic is still there, in between the corner drugstore and the now-closed dance studio. 35 years later. How many more scared young women have had a piece of their innocence stolen since then? It makes my heart heavy.
When I was 17 I thought I became pregnant from a one-night stand with a very nice boy whose last name I never knew. I went to a place in town to get tested and learn my options. I was given a cup to collect my urine, which I handed off to the woman in attendance, and was given pamphlets to read. One told me I would go to hell if I had an abortion. The second contained personal stories from women who regretted their abortions. The one that stuck out talked about how vacuuming the house brought this woman back to the day she allowed her child to be torn from her body. Then the attending woman came back and lectured me on how my life would be destroyed by an abortion decision. How wicked I would feel. She left me in a pool of tears to get the results of my test. She was visibly disappointed that the result was negative. I ran from that place. That experience was the start of a shift for me... the first chink in the armor. I went from a sweet, naive young woman who believed in God the way everyone seemed to believe in God - blind acceptance without really thinking about it too deeply, to questioning the "truths" put before me by others. And that questioning continues to this day. The intention from that clinic was to stop abortions, but to also make sure the fear of God and inevitable fiery repercussions were were drilled way into my head. Maybe to further my love of God, in some twisted way. It had the opposite effect, alas. And that clinic is still there, in between the corner drugstore and the now-closed dance studio. 35 years later. How many more scared young women have had a piece of their innocence stolen since then? It makes my heart heavy.
Damn, it makes my heart heavy too. I've read articles and essays, but never someone's personal story. Thank you for sharing it, Renata mP.