Get on with it already.

I’ve been wondering lately if it’s all up to me now, well I know not everything is up to me, but am I the only one standing in my own way anymore?  Have I exhausted all the avenues on this post abortion journey and now I’m done?  I don’t know if the journey will ever be fully complete.  Will I know if it ever is? It waxes and wanes.  

When things come ‘round like 40 Days for Life, I have a tendency or maybe a need to get all stirred up about it both in a good way and a bad one.  Good in that I’ve been trying to think what else I might be able to do at this time in my life for the prolife “cause.”  Is there anything that I’m not doing or haven’t thought of that I could be doing or doing more of?  And bad because campaigns like 40 Days for Life bring out both sides of the debate, and sadly, there are factions even within the prolife arena that would like to see me tarred and feathered, or at least tortured for all eternity and I feel as if I need to constantly explain why I had an abortion instead of proclaiming the mercy I found in spite of it.   I’ve been questioned in the last week or so how I can even speak to the issue having had an abortion, “how dare I.”  Yes, the delete button is good for those comments, but they sting nonetheless.  I find it scary and sad that obviously lots of people still do not recognize what happens to a woman after she has an abortion, and even sadder, they don’t much care.

And just when I start to try and blame the Devil for all of my current torment, I’ve come to learn recently that the Devil, surprisingly, is no real match for me, well no match for me when I’m filled up and attuned to He that lives within me.  The Devil apparently doesn’t stand a chance.  A mere Hail Mary will supposedly send him running. That’s all well and good except when it’s 2AM and I’ve just woken up from a nightmare, afraid to even open my eyes, and I can’t remember the words.   It’s hard to believe I have that kind of power, but it’s not power of my own volition certainly.  The Devil, I’ve learned is a finite creature with limited power whose great trick is getting us, or me in this case, to believe that he is far more powerful.  God, however, is infinite and all powerful.  Repeat as necessary.

A few weeks ago I was glad to attend a one-day “after care” day for women who have been on a Rachel’s Vineyard retreat.  This was something new for me – and for those who planned it.  They obviously had done their research on what some women still need even after the ocean of mercy, love, and forgiveness that is a Rachel’s Vineyard retreat. 

Granted, as with anything, people experience and leave a retreat in all different states.  Some are at the end of their journey, some just said the word “abortion” out loud for the first time in their lives, others are somewhere in the middle.  Some women leave and never look back and some, like me, need more help.

It hurts to say that …even to this day.

I need help… often… to stay the course, to reset my compass, to point out the obvious, and the unseen.  I often lament that I am this way for I think of myself as the strong, independent type.  In some ways, it’s an accurate description of many areas of my life, in others so far removed from the truth of who I am or who I’ve become.  Can I be both? I guess so since I’ve been both for an awful long time.  Being strong isn’t the only requirement however for caring for my battered soul.  I need help.

I need the strong and steady fortress of my husband with his ability to see not only the forest through the trees, but even the stuff I may outright refuse to acknowledge.  His BS meter, thought it pains me to admit, is helpful at times as well.

I need, so need, the company of women who are postabortive to talk to or just so I don’t feel so completely alone.  I need them as a reminder that this sorrow I carry is perfectly normal and acceptable and there’s no shame in it, not anymore. 

I need my Church, whose beauty I’ve always been awestruck by, but whom I was always afraid to cuddle up next to because of my unworthiness and disgusting sins.  Now, I want and crave all she has to offer which is bountiful for those who need her, whether they realize it or not.

And I need the Good Priests who He has called to shepherd all of us and this sheep in particular.  I’ve come to depend on some of them for wisdom, compassion, understanding, and, of course, the beloved sacraments.  After the experience I had with the priest I confessed my abortion to all those years ago, I would never have thought that I would find mercy and kindness in a priest again or that I would even look to a priest to find it in the first place.

In the last three years, I’ve found the love and acceptance I’ve searched for all my life and never found.

So, now what?  I need to move and discard some big boulders taking up space in my life, in my heart and in my soul, apparently.  At the after care day, there was a speaker from Heart of the Father Ministries.  This gentleman had a gift, that’s for certain.  The words he spoke were enlightening and inspiring and made me feel as if I did have the power to get rid of things that I’m just @#$@# sick of anymore.  He explained how – almost too simply – with words and conviction, we can get rid of things in our life that we no longer want to take up any more room. Hard for me to believe, but apparently we have the power to renounce those things in our life in His name.  How I wish I could close my eyes sometimes and not be haunted by memories of the past.  I can renounce all I want, but my problem is, I seem to need constant reinforcement and I’ve learned that I can’t rely on it to come from inside my own head.

This man at the retreat, I wanted to ask him to pray with me and for me, but I was too afraid to ask, or probably too embarrassed.  Yeah, I’m real strong aren’t I?  I’m afraid that the last decade of the internet and email and spending 90% of my time speaking to babies and children has dulled my ability to talk to human adults in any coherent way.  Starting back out “there” with requests for help is not the best plan for success.  Then I regret not asking because I think how it would have helped.  Or maybe if I would have talked to some of the other women there, but I didn’t.

Some of the things that remain – that have got to go already – are ties to my past that keep me in a place that can’t possibly be of God.  The past has to no longer take up space in my present.  Some say you can rid yourself of your past with just an act of the will – I need an act of something I can see, hear, and revel in, maybe something to replace those ties to past.  I’ve spent the last just about three years analyzing, and picking apart my past seven ways to Sunday and I’m worn out.  I’m fatigued.  I’m done.  I’ve been thinking that if I let go of this pain then I’ve lost control over it.  If I keep it here with me, I can control it.

Sometime in the beginning of my blog project, I posted the prayer, “I Thirst,” that was given to me.  I remember when the person gave it to me, she said to ask someone to read it to me, but I never did.

Another person told me to come up with a list of positive things about myself – I came up with just two things.  Not sure if there are more or if I just didn’t try hard enough.

Another person simply told me to look in a mirror; it sounds so silly, and tell myself that I deserve to be loved.  I did do that, one time, and I think for a second I believed it. 

I have to stop being afraid to ask for exactly what I need from these awesome people He has put in my life and on my path.  I have to stop being afraid of asking for help and receptive to it when it comes.  I think it may be time to get out of my own way.

Um...wow.

Need a little inspiration to go back to Mass? Here's some. You're welcome. Wow.

One of my favorites...

If it weren't for my Journey - one thing I would definitely not have now is my new found love of the Bible, the Word, Scripture, the Gospel - I'm still not sure what the proper terminology is and I find it quite difficult to talk about in some intelligent sounding fashion.  But, I have read more of it in the last three years or so than in my entire lifetime.  I am no scripture scholar - if anything, I'm a preschooler when it comes to any kind of study of it, but I have gathered a list of favorite readings, snippets, verses, etc.

I'm completely in love with the Gospel of Luke and today's reading is one I've read countless times.  I just can't seem to get enough of it.  Could you imagine?  I mean really try to picture it in your mind if you were this woman?   Though these days, I'm trying harder to imagine what she must have felt like after she stood up, with her sins forgiven, and went home. I just love reading it over and over again.  I think this may be the first thing I do when I get to Heaven.


I love this clip from Jesus of Nazareth too - I love how she pushes her way in through all the men and falls before Him.  And he's so loving and tender toward her.  It's probably the first time any man has done or said anything kind to her and he wants nothing from her, at least not what every other man in her life has wanted.  I'll probably read it twenty more times before I go to sleep tonight now.

Today's Gospel, Luke 7:36-50.
A certain Pharisee invited Jesus to dine with him,
and he entered the Pharisee's house and reclined at table.
Now there was a sinful woman in the city
who learned that he was at table in the house of the Pharisee.
Bringing an alabaster flask of ointment,
she stood behind him at his feet weeping
and began to bathe his feet with her tears.
Then she wiped them with her hair,
kissed them, and anointed them with the ointment.
When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this he said to himself,
"If this man were a prophet,
he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him,
that she is a sinner."
Jesus said to him in reply,
"Simon, I have something to say to you."
"Tell me, teacher," he said.
"Two people were in debt to a certain creditor;
one owed five hundred days' wages and the other owed fifty.
Since they were unable to repay the debt, he forgave it for both.
Which of them will love him more?"
Simon said in reply,
"The one, I suppose, whose larger debt was forgiven."
He said to him, "You have judged rightly."
Then he turned to the woman and said to Simon,
"Do you see this woman?
When I entered your house, you did not give me water for my feet,
but she has bathed them with her tears
and wiped them with her hair.
You did not give me a kiss,
but she has not ceased kissing my feet since the time I entered.
You did not anoint my head with oil,
but she anointed my feet with ointment.
So I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven;
hence, she has shown great love.
But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little."
He said to her, "Your sins are forgiven."
The others at table said to themselves,
"Who is this who even forgives sins?"
But he said to the woman,
"Your faith has saved you; go in peace."

A guest writer - A Father's Postabortion Journey...

A few days ago, I received an email regarding my post of August 22.  In the email, the writer expressed the following:

Hello,

I read your Aug. 22 post last night. I urged my fiance to get an abortion in 1986. I struggle with it to this day. I would like to write something from the father's point of view - something I haven't read in all my traipsing through the internet on this issue...[oh - I am going to fix that for you ASAP - keep checking your inbox!] I'm reaching out because your post of Aug 22 is one of the more honest and powerful I've read. Thanks for your time.

I immediately told my hubby about the email, first because it was a man who was reaching out to me and that's just how our marriage works, and second because I wasn't sure if I was even capable of doing what this wounded soul needed. After a little discussion, I decided that his story needed to be told, all of these stories need to be told, in whatever way they can.  Thank you, Lord, for considering me a worthy and, hopefully, effective messenger. 

So many, many of his words, feelings, and pain rang true for me as I read them.  Yes, abortion is and would be different for the mothers and fathers who suffer from the pain of having had one, but there is also so much in common - the guilt, the unworthiness, the searching for condemnation, the despair, the secrecy, the shame, the waiting for the other shoe to drop, the knowledge that the feelings will never be gone. You may learn to live your life with them, allowing the grief, without having it destroy you from the inside, but until you get to that point, the pain can be unbearable at times and all the time. 

So, a Father's Postabortion Journey...

I am a reasonably well-adjusted man in my upper 40’s, married (2^nd marriage, recognized by the Church), with 4 children.  I consider myself lucky in that the three older ones (older than 16) have never rebelled, never had issues with drugs or alcohol or any kind of trouble.  I have a younger child who is 9.  They are the joys of my life.

But, in all of this is a nagging, inescapable cloud.  The cloud of abortion. 

As I’m sure it is with many people, I have never discussed it with anyone that I know.  My current wife knows about it.  IF someone else knows about it, they’ve never let on.  

I was raised Catholic, although there was no evidence of it in the home.  I went to CCD, then Catholic school, and even a couple of years for high school before finishing up and graduating from a public high school.  Mine was the typical mid-70’s Catholic education:  the Faith was composed of being kind to animals, recycling, and giving to the poor.  

As is the norm with everyone my age, once I got out of school, I had no time for Church.  I lived it up, partied, and ran around having a good time.  I eventually found myself engaged to be married.  I was 22, she was 20.  Neither of us had any use for the Church at the time (she wasn’t Catholic anyway).  

A month before the wedding, she called me to tell me the news.  She was pregnant.  I remember saying something to the effect of “We can’t do this,” meaning we “can’t” have a baby.  It was that cut and dry.  Within two weeks, I drove her to a place in Alexandria, VA to have “it” done.  I do not remember going in with her.  I don’t remember leaving. I don’t remember anything after driving up to the building.  It’s not something I can explain, I simply do not remember anything else about that day.  I don’t even remember what the date was.  I only know that it was late May in 1986.

I don’t remember being particularly bothered by it, though I know she was.  After we married, she didn’t like watching anything about babies on television.  I sympathized, but it wasn’t something I could grasp at the time.

The “cloud” didn’t really form until after the birth of our child in late 1987.  Then, and only then, did the reality of what I’d done begin to set in.  Although we never discussed it, I’m sure that if I’d have said “Let’s have the baby” in 1986, we would have had that baby.  I take full responsibility for what happened. 

The marriage didn’t last and we split in 1990.  

In the 90’s, I married again and had two more children.  In the middle of all that, the pull of the Faith started working on me.  It started slowly, originally being just a pull to “get back to Church”.  It didn’t even have to be a Catholic church, although anything other than a Baptist church was out of the question.

During that time, I listened to “Focus of the Family” radio programs with Dr. Dobson.  Over the course of a week, they aired the audio to the short film “Tilly.”  That had me pulling over before getting to work and crying my eyes out in a bank parking lot.  I’ve never told my wife about that week, and haven’t shared how I feel these days, mainly because things that are shared become weapons used against you.  So it’s best to remain quiet.

Eventually, and over the objections of my wife, I came back to the Church.  I got to a point where I knew that there was nothing the Protestants could offer me that wasn’t already provided by our Catholic Faith.  I returned, confessed all my sins, and was restored.  But still…

During my confession, I pretty much laid bare my sins.  But ask me today, and I cannot specifically remember confessing the abortion.  I can’t imagine that I hadn’t confessed it, but for some reason, can’t remember doing so specifically.  I often feel that I should go back and confess that, even if it’s something that’s already been covered.  You can’t be too safe.

As I stated, there remains to this day that “cloud.”  

It’s not something that I can discuss with my wife;  it’s not something I can confide to a friend; it’s not something I could bring myself to tell my father about.  

I am dedicated to my children, two of whom are adults now.  I miss terribly having a “little one” around, because, as any father knows, you’re the most perfect man in the world until your kids grow up a little and realize that you’re not.  I mentioned once that my kids are my “redemption,” meaning that each one of them represented for me a chance to “make up” for the abortion.  (Of course, I didn’t explain what I meant by “redemption.”)  The truth is that you can never “make up” for an abortion.  You never get over it, and for me, there’s the idea that I don’t deserve to get over it.  I deserve every feeling of discomfort and uneasiness.  There’s also the guilty feeling that there’s no way I deserve to have the 4 wonderful children I have.  How does a man who kills his baby deserve to have children who don’t rebel against him, or reject him, or butt heads with him?  How does God say, “Hey, I know you killed the first one I sent to you, but here are 4 more that will be the greatest blessing you’ll ever have.”  Thinking of how good they are to their old father makes me think that I have no business being happy or receiving their love and devotion.  I deserve nothing but pain and rejection due to the pain and rejection I inflicted on the person that would have been – was – my first child.  How do you reconcile the good father that I am, by everyone’s estimation, with what I know the truth to be?  Sure I’m a good father, but not because I’m a good person.  I believe that I’m a good father because each one of my kids has been a gift from God and an opportunity to “offset” the horror of the abortion.  

Do I deserve to “get over” it?  I don’t think so.  It’s almost like it’s my cross to carry around or my own thorn to suffer through.    Lay my sin at the foot of the Cross, you say?  What business do I have dropping my sin off on Him and walking away with peace of mind?  I know that many of us deal with this issue in different ways; some can find a bit of peace, although I know you don’t actually “get over” it.  I feel that in keeping my “thorn,”  it keeps me closer to Him.  Whatever “suffering” I have over this is what I can offer Him until my time on Earth is through. 

I am really and truly horrible at prayer, but I keep trying, but I will ask for my readers' help in prayers for this man, a beloved child of God, who so desperately needs to seek out and bask in His love and mercy.

I pray that he seek out good counsel to wade through all of his pain and sorrow to find what exists on the other side. I pray that counseling will allow him to chip away at the memories and bring to the surface anything that needs to be talked about and brought into the light from the darkness where it has resided for so long - too long. I pray that he be able to finally grieve for his lost child in a way that he hasn't ever been able to so that healing may begin.  I pray that he comes to understand and accept responsibility for what he is responsible for and not carry guilt for things that weren't and aren't his responsibility.  I pray that if he does come to share his pain with his wife that she be loving and understanding and fulfill her vows to love, honor, and cherish him. I pray that this beloved son of the Father comes to realize that he is so much more than this one thing, this abortion, and that You want so much more from him than sorrow and despair and that you have showered the blessings you have upon him because in Your eyes he is a precious creation made in Your image. I pray that he find his way to You in confession if that is Your Will and that the Good Father to whom he may appear speaks your words with patience and love. And finally, Lord, I pray that this wounded son of Yours finds your love and mercy so fulfilling, joyful, and awesome, that he abandons all of the self punishment and feelings of unworthiness and chooses, instead, to live joyfully and peacefully.

Finally, Dear Lord, I pray, that he come to know his child who now resides with You and that he come to know that neither You nor his child want to see him continue to suffer in pain.

I welcome any of my readers to comment here and speak to my guest writer or if you email me any messages, I will forward them on to him. Finally, I will be pestering my guest writer with any and all information and resources that I can find, the first being the link to Rachel's Vineyard who ministers to Fathers who have lost a child to abortion - The Rachel's Vineyard Men's Page. 

There is no grave to visit.

Having an abortion changes you...forever.  Maybe you don't realize it at first, maybe not for a long, long time.  Some women don't bring it up until they are on their death beds.  Perhaps you sense a change but you don't acknowledge it or you find ways to cover it up, ignore it, hide it, but you always know the change is present.  The truth of the matter is - you have lost a child.  Despite any or all of the circumstances that may or may not have surrounded the loss - your child was killed.  I don't like using that word because it sends shivers up and down my spine, but that is the truth of what happened. 

25 years ago, on this day, my daughter was killed. Slowly, tortuously, methodically taken from my womb and deposited somewhere else.

I know that may be hard for some to hear, it's hard for me to say, or type.  Actually, I'm not sure I've ever said those words out loud.  The keyboard is safer.  But that's the hard truth.  If there is any point to this blog, and I've learned in the year or so I've been writing it that it has way more purpose than I could have ever dreamed of, it's to tell the story of my abortion in the hopes that some day there will be no more abortions, no more killing.  Some may stop by to read my story because they have been there themselves, or maybe they need to help someone who has been through the same, but I hope more and more stop by and read my story and then turn the feelings they have after into action to do whatever they can to stop it from happening to someone else. 

Like I said, having an abortion changes you forever. After all the work I've done to battle my demons and put to rest the wrongness of my thinking about it, in spite of all the healing work I've done and all the work He has done in me... the grief remains, the sorrow remains, the regret remains, the doubt remains.  You learn to manage it in healthy ways like anyone who has lost someone they love, but it remains forever.

I feel I can never say "I'm sorry" enough to my Lord and Savior and to Grace.  I know I've been forgiven.  I know that His mercy has saved me, but I remain sorry and sometimes the sorrow is crippling.  It can color every other aspect of your life, no matter how good it is. But, with help and healing and Him, I've learned to live with my sorrow much better than I had been, but work remains.  There is no grave to visit, but the space in my heart that's for her. 

I'm sorry Grace for what happened to you on this day, 25 years ago.  I didn't know what to do when I realized that He had sent you to me. I didn't realize you were a gift.  I was told what to do with you.  I wonder if my Mom is thinking of you today.  I'm sorry I didn't even try to find another way.  I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone else about you for that may have saved your life.  I'm sorry that I didn't turn around on that bridge that morning and come home with you.  I'm sorry I didn't protect you.  I'm sorry it took me so long to acknowledge you at all.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry. 

I know where you are now and that you are happy because what else could you be in the light of Heaven?  I know you don't want me to be sad and mournful and withdrawn, especially for you sisters' sake.  I will try to keep the sadness reigned in today and I'll turn my despair into little prayers of thanksgiving for you having been with me for the short time that you were.  Look at all you've taught me!  I have you to thank for my growth in faith, for the rediscovery of His Church that I love so much, for the people that have come into my life as a result of my grief over your lost life. 

I will pray for you today Grace and ask Our Lady to comfort and keep you until I am there with you.  Please seek Him out today ask, again, for mercy for me and for my Mom.  I love you.