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  • Lynn McCain

My Abortion Story

Updated: Jun 2

Does death have a color? Is it brilliant red? Is it dark? I’ll never forget the dingy walls from the waiting room that day. Emptiness filled the room despite the many women who had also, for whatever reason, decided that they would take the easy way out. Trying to keep myself distracted, I studied them. I couldn’t believe how many of them were there- how many #babies would end up discarded in the trash that very night. I recited in my mind all the reasons why I was there, convincing myself that I had to make this choice.

I don’t remember them calling my name or walking to the room where the actual murder took place, but I do remember the smell- the sterile yet musty fragrance of an old house. I remember laying on the table, the gas covering my nose, the nurse telling me to focus on breathing. The paint chipping off the dirty baseboards, and the doctor’s apparent disregard for me, his patient. I don’t believe he even looked me in the eye. I often wonder how many lives he’s taken.

I remember nervously laughing as my friend tried to keep my gaze away from the #ultrasound screen. I laughed, only briefly, but I laughed. As my very own child, whom I was supposed to protect, was getting ready to be ripped apart, I laughed. That was until the pain shot through my entire body as the doctor #dilated my cervix. I stopped talking. I couldn’t even think. The pain was so intense that it felt as if my insides were being torn out as well. I started to panic, breathing in heavily the gas. I zoned in and out of reality-coming to each time to the sound of my child being pulled apart by a large suctioning machine. That sound is forever etched in my mind. Again, I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing.

The next thing I knew, I was being wheeled into a room full of other women and young girls who had also undergone the same thing- who had sacrificed their own flesh and blood on the altar of abortion. I was handed two pills and a cup of water. The room reeked of despair.

Within the hour I was headed home- empty, in more ways than one. I vomited several times on the two-hour car ride and ended the night on the couch mindlessly watching TV while the remains of my child spent the night in a dumpster in #Memphis, TN.

I always cringe when I see people fighting for the right to kill their #unborn children. Masses of them gathered together, with their hand painted signs- holding #political rallies in support of murder. It’s insane really. I can’t help but think that they haven’t actually had #abortions themselves. I spent almost nine years hiding from what I’d done. I mostly didn’t allow myself to grieve. I moved on, part of me still thinking that maybe it was for the best- that is except for the anniversary. Every year, I cried for a month- quietly, once everyone was asleep. I grieved my child and hated myself for being so evil. But you can only hide and repress for so long before everything crashes down around you. And crash I did. I began to cry every day. I could no longer keep it together in front of other people. I spiraled deeper and deeper into darkness until death felt like the only way to stop the pain- to stop the constant accusing voice in my head that told me I didn’t deserve to live- that I didn’t deserve to be a mother. This unrelenting voice of #shame and despair almost put an end to me. That is until I sought help or more aptly worded- help sought me.

A former employee of Life Choices, my local pro-life #pregnancy center, and I was at the same meeting. I knew of her affiliation with the organization and reached out asking for information. She was so helpful and encouraged me to attend one of the biblically based #recovery classes that they offer. At that time, I didn’t feel like I had anything left to lose. The thoughts of #suicide were enough to scare me into action. I knew something had to change, so I called them. I was met with nothing but love and acceptance and signed up for the six-week abortion recovery class(I didn’t even know that was a thing.)

I didn’t know what to expect but decided to give everything I had to the class. To say it was hard would be an understatement. It’s probably the hardest thing I have ever done, coming face to face with the monster inside of me. My counselor continued to encourage me every week promising that if I would stick it out that it would get better. Every week I came back discouraged, raw, and vulnerable. She kept walking with me through the dark, heavy emotions that tried to sink me, praying for me along the way. She was invested. She cared. And she was right. By the end of the classes and through much prayer, I was able to make peace with what I had done. I was finally able to forgive myself. Without Life Choices, I don’t even like to think of what would have happened to me. I’m not saying that everything is easy. I’m not saying that sometimes I don’t have bad days. But Life Choices gave me the tools to cope and that has made all the difference.

If you have had an #abortion and have suffered under the weight of it, no matter how long. I urge you to seek help. I promise you it will be hard, but I also promise you that it will be worth it. God has a way of loving the unlovable right out of despair.

I also want to speak to those of you that have taken a pro-life stance vocally. I realize that ending abortion is your ultimate goal, and it is worth all of your effort to continue to stand against it, but I would like you to consider your approach. Is it hurting more than it’s helping? While fighting for the unborn child we often miss out on the opportunity to show the love of God to the mother who has made the most difficult decision of her life. She is hurting. She feels hopeless. She feels all alone. She’s made the decision out of desperation, not evil intent. She is not evil, she is afraid.

So, instead of angrily demeaning and viciously attacking these poor women, whom God loves, I ask you to come along side of them and encourage them. Love them like they are your own sister or daughter. Love them like God did when he sent his only son to die for the very sins that they’ve committed- the ones you continue to berate her for. Those same sins, he has promised, are removed from her as far as the east is from the west.

If you've had an abortion, I want you to know that you are extravagantly loved by your creator. He loves you in spite of all of your mistakes, and he is eagerly waiting for you to come and rest in his arms. You don't have to struggle any longer. You don't have to hang your head in shame. Your father has taken the blame for you and placed it on the cross. You are adored. You are #forgiven. You are more than your mistakes. You are not alone.

He who is without sin, let him cast the first stone.

Let us continue in love in all that we do.


Sincerely Jamie


START TAKING UP SPACE OR GET OUT OF THE WAY






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