Abortion Recovery Ministry - Company Message
Arms of Grace, Abortion Recovery Ministry

Betrayal That Does Not End

     “I thought there might be a little pregnancy up there,” the doctor said, with a carefree congratulatory smile and an almost pleasant sounding voice, as if I had just announced the birth of my child rather than the horror that I was hemorrhaging and had just passed two large clots of blood the size of my fist in a public restroom.
     Undaunted by my distress, he eagerly inquired if I had brought the specimens with me, as if I had just lost a couple of teeth and he “the good tooth fairy” wanted to collect the little jewels. 
     At that point I lost it and begin to scream that he had killed my baby. About that same time, my husband, who had been standing by quietly, apparently befuddled as to what his role or responsibility was in this matter, suddenly rose to the occasion. In an effort to keep me from attacking the doctor he began to tug on my arm physically restraining me. No doubt he wanted to get me out there before security called in the swat team.
     Once he had me out into the hall he began to chastise me and tell me that I could not speak to a military officer that way, because I would get him into trouble. He was afraid that he could face court-martial for my verbal assault and attempted physical attack against one of his superior officers.  “But he killed our baby”, I cried, “He knew that I was pregnant, he knew that removing the IUD would cause me to abort my baby, but he did it anyway”.
     I was hysterical, but I fell silent when my husband said in a calm, unemotional voice, “Well, we didn’t want anymore children right now anyway”! As if that made it okay!
     I think I felt my own heart stop at that moment. It was as if he had hit me in the stomach and knocked the breath out of me. That is the last memory I have of any conversations with him  during our marriage concerning the abortion. His comment silenced me, and I would remain silent about the death of my children for almost four decades. The doctor had said “it had to be done”. Now my husband was saying it didn’t matter, because the pregnancy wasn’t planned.  I was absolutely ignorant about the development of an unborn child. I didn’t even realize at that time that I had aborted twin babies.
     On that day my husband lost two of his children and his wife. Subconsciously I think I decided at that moment that I never wanted to be pregnant again and that I would not live out the rest of my life with this man.  Up until that day I could not imagine my life with any other man. We had been in love since high school and we had what I thought was a normal, secure marriage with two beautiful daughters that we both adored. I was proud of my husband and proud to be a military wife. To be sure, we had overcome some difficult hurdles and arguments that caused deep hurt, but we had managed to overcome them. Even frequent separations because of his military career had not weakened our commitment to each other. But this was different. This wasn’t like any of those things. This was as if someone had severed a bond that had held our marriage and our lives together. It was like cutting the string on a kite and letting it float away.  I remember leaving the hospital quietly after his remark, and I do not remember ever discussing the abortion with him again until many years later after I had attended a Rachel’s Vineyard healing week-end.
          My husband was a young, loyal, enlisted soldier and he did not talk back to his superiors. He knew even less about the development of an unborn child than I did. Neither of us could have fathomed the destruction of our lives that began that day; but he knew the dangers of insulting an officer in the military who was his superior.  He knew that his career would be in jeopardy if his wife continued to rebuke this officer.  He had joined the military right after high school graduation.  He wasn’t about to do anything to jeopardize his only means of supporting his young family.
     I certainly didn’t want to disgrace my husband or jeopardize his career.What was I supposed to do?
At that time I was 25-years old with nothing more than a high school General Education Diploma.  How could I stand up against this doctor, when even my husband, my baby’s father, thought no harm had been done?  The doctor said it had to be done. Now my husband was saying it didn’t matter because the pregnancy wasn’t planned.
What if they were right?
     I resigned myself to the fact that there was nothing I could do about this forced abortion.  I went on with my life trying to suppress my feelings, but I could never reconcile the anger and betrayal that I  felt as a result of this assault on my life and the life of my unborn children, by someone that I should have been able to trust.  
     It was a betrayal that reached far beyond anything I could have imagined. It was a betrayal that reached into the highest levels of my own government and continues to this day.
    Forty years later my government is still killing unborn children and wounding women and their families. Of course today they do it openly and much more aggressively. They create a market for the fetal tissue of these murdered babies and claim wonderful advancements in science at the expense of the innocent.  
     Not only have they declared it to be a legal  right to murder these babies,  they are so brazen as to demand that all Americans help pay for this crime against humanity.
      I knew after my week-end at Rachel’s Vineyard that I could never be silent  about my forced abortion. I left that week-end knowing that I could no longer sit on the fence and not defend the life of women and their innocent unborn children. 
      The revelation that came to me on that week-end was only the tip of the iceberg.  Many pieces of the puzzle of my life began to fall into place after that week-end.   Although  I  knew that my story would not be welcome in some circles of the government and the public at large, but I knew it must be told.
      I came to understand that week-end that it isn’t only   about what happened to me and my babies.  It is about the millions of babies that die every year at the hand of an abortionist and the millions of women that are permanently wounded as a result. It is about the families that are being destroyed and a nation that is being destroyed from within; the very foundations of our nation are being shaken out from underneath us because of the shedding of innocent blood
       May God have mercy on our nation and intervene to stop this atrocity before it is too late for our nation to survive.
 

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