Abortion: My Choice, Gods Grace : Christian Women Tell Their Stories
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I explored adoption with my then boyfriend for about a half second before he took the option off the table. I felt trapped, and my fight or flight response kicked in. I needed to regain control of my life, and I thought I found the quickest fix. This type of abortion requires a woman to take a dose of Mifepristone RU in order to cut off the nutrient supply progesterone to the baby.
Her Story: God’s Redemption After My Abortion
Heavy bleeding, cramping, and a miscarriage ensue. When I first read about medical abortions, I thought I had found the perfect answer. I made a deal with God: if He just let me do this one thing, I would get out of my relationship and never get myself in this situation again. I convinced myself I could live with my decision as I felt it was the best option I had. The moment I walked out of Planned Parenthood, just minutes after ingesting the mifepristone, the veil of fear was lifted and the weight of murderous regret hit me like a freight train.
I imagined approaching the throne of God one day and trying to explain how my life and lofty dreams could have meant more than the innocent life of a baby. With shaking hands, I carefully dialed the hotline number and awaited a live voice on the other end. These doctors then prescribe the patient a daily dose of progesterone to counteract the effects of the mifepristone. While I longingly wish I could share with you a successful reversal story paired with pictures of my little girl, within a few days of attempting to reverse my medical abortion, I began bleeding and knew it was all over.
I hid in fear and shame of my decision, brushing it under the rug and running from anything that reminded me of what I did. But this, my brothers and sisters, is why God is God and we are not. He has a vantage point that we do not possess. Before He created me, the Lord knew that this was going to happen, and He planned my next steps in accordance. Now, I not only work for Abortion Pill Reversal, managing the hotline, answering calls, and assisting women in changing the course of their future for the better, but I also have the privilege of sharing my story with the world.
The beautiful thing about living for Christ is that He never grows tired of welcoming us back into His loving embrace. When His loving mercy looked upon my life, He used my deepest regret and darkest pain as the foundation upon which He would build my glory story. Only the God of the universe can make a beautiful stained glass window out of shattered pieces of glass, and in doing this, when people look at my life now, they see the goodness of the Lord. I am pro-life because out of love, my Father gave His own so my sins may be forgiven.
Having moved almost 20 times in 25 years, Marie is excited to live a block from the beach and eat as many tacos as possible until God calls her elsewhere. She enjoys playing guitar, piano, singing, leading worship, public speaking, and working in the Pro-Life movement. View All Blogs. Faith Ask God the Hard Questions. Prayer My Favorite Prayer Tools. Whatever sex act got her here—an intercourse lit by love, passion, lust, hope, indifference, and, yes, sometimes incest or rape—is long past and obliterated now by more pressing, pragmatic concerns.
But for the women in the abortion clinic waiting room, the sex itself is history and totally beside the point.
They are here to pursue their lives. Every woman sitting in one of the high-backed chairs in the Montgomery clinic has missed a menstrual period. She has had to decide who she can confide in and who will judge her or disapprove and thus needs to be lied to or kept in the dark. She has confronted whatever private thoughts and yearnings she may have about her vision for her life, including deeply held and possibly heretofore unexamined ideas about professional fulfillment, love, parenthood, and God. She has had to consider the sometimes viselike practicalities that circumscribe her days: school schedules, work demands, the responsibility of caring for other children or ailing relatives, the reliable and supportive presence—or not—of the person whose sperm entered her body more than six weeks ago, her financial circumstances, her age, the limits of her own health.
By the time a woman is sitting in a clinic awaiting my attention, her intention has been focused and clarified. In Mississippi, I am required to inform women that having an abortion increases their risk for breast cancer, a fraudulent fact—a lie! In Alabama, every abortion patient must receive a booklet called Did You Know. If I could refuse to distribute it, I would. By the time a woman arrives at an abortion clinic and places herself in my care, she has faced a world of judgment and found that everyone—her boyfriend, her own mother, her pastor, her best friend—has something to say.
To the point: A woman who wants to terminate her pregnancy has to make her decision in the context of a culture that shames her and, increasingly, within the constraints of laws that dramatically inconvenience her.
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They demean her humanity by presuming to know better than she does what her best interests are. They limit her access to clinics and doctors and they convey to her false information. I strictly abide by these laws, which I believe violate human freedom, because my first priority is to continue to be able to provide abortions. If I break the law out of frustration or fury and get put out of business, the antis win. These are called TRAP targeted regulation of abortion providers laws, and they take aim at the business of abortion care, creating costly and unreasonable logistical hurdles that abortion providers must clear in order to stay in business.
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They put inefficient and unnecessary restrictions around the disposal of fetal material. For me and the other physicians who do this work, as well as for the owners of the clinics themselves, these laws require more than a mountain of paperwork. And for her part, a woman who wants an abortion must demonstrate superhuman determination to seek it out. By the time we meet in a clinic waiting room, her resolve is often the most defining thing about her.
It is matched only by my own. Their legs jiggle on the vinyl upholstery. They look into their laps. They get lost in their phones. The people who pass the new laws concern themselves with fetuses, but these are humans I am caring for—real people, not merely biological organisms with the potential to become such. They are college students, married women, single mothers, women without children.
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In a single morning I might see a woman about to enter the army; a first-grade teacher; an X-ray technician; and a zaftig, long-haired girl whose body is covered with tattoos, including one that says, All things through Christ, who strengthens me. This impulse, I believe, is the opposite of heartless or morbid. The women to whom I provide this service are clear-eyed, able to sort through all the different factors of their lives.
They have the clarity they need, and that I require of them before I will perform their procedure, but—because they are human, and not robots or gods—they will never have the total certitude that the antis demand of them. They have determined at the time what is right for them and their families. But if they ask me questions, as they frequently do, I answer them as their doctor—and not as their confessor or their friend—and I give them the medical truth. It cannot form anything like thoughts.
I tell women that having this abortion now will not impede their future ability to have children—as many as they want—as long as their fertility persists. My job, as I see it, is not to encourage or discourage women to have abortions, but rather to deploy my medical expertise in the service of their free choice, whatever that may be. And for their part, most women are relieved to be, at last, in this judgment-free zone. They understand that they have made a decision with certain consequences and, having chosen at this juncture to terminate their pregnancy, most of them are able to live, fully, with the complexity of that choice.
Sometimes the women are tearful as they look at me, or at the sonogram picture, but as I learned long ago, tearfulness does not equal uncertainty. As I see it, the desire to see the sonogram image is a cry of decisiveness. This is real. This is what I want, having decided in this moment of my unique, individual human life not to follow a different path. Another plans to join the army and is already arranging to leave two very young children in the care of her parents, signing papers that make them custodians should something fatal happen to her in the line of duty.
There are athletes and dancers with their eye on big dreams—the Olympics, Alvin Ailey. There are women studying for degrees, hoping to become therapists, biologists, teachers, nurses. There are also drug addicts, sorority sisters, women in denial about fundamental truths in their lives, women who consent to be in destructive relationships that are impossible to understand. On occasion, I see the same woman twice in four months.
Like all people everywhere, the women in these clinics are, for better or worse, merely humans doing the best they can, making this decision having taken everything they can into account. Contributor Eggebroten, Anne Marie. Language eng. Publication Pasadena, Calif. Extent xv, p. Isbn Isbn Isbn Type pbk. Get a Library Card.
Subject African Americans -- Southern States -- Politics and government -- 20th century -- Religious aspects African literature -- History and criticism. Library Locations Map Details.
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