The Sixth Street Bridge

The Sixth Street Bridge
At the tender age of 17, I walked across this bridge, alone, into Downtown Pittsburgh, with $300 in my pocket that my mother had given me to get an abortion. I went into the Fulton Building (in the picture) and did what I was told to do. I didn't have a choice - if I did, I wouldn't have chosen abortion.

Monday, June 20, 2011

An Introduction

So, I've created this blog to chronicle my healing from an abortion I had when I was 17.  When I first began this healing journey - I took a lot of time figuring out and trying to remember even the remotest of details surrounding the events.  The actual procedure - well, that I remember in vivid detail from sounds and smells to pain and tears and silence. At that time, there was no "medical abortion" or "surgical abortion."  There was no anesthesia.  I remember what I wore down to criticizing myself for wearing open sandals into the "big city."  What a dumb move - my feet were getting so dirty!  Did I even think what I was about to do to the rest of my body?

What I had a hard time remembering after years of burying this day in my life - were the details about time and dates and even years.  With some investigating and and pictures I had dated from that time - I realized that I was a year off in my recollection altogether.  I had only told one person about my abortion outside of my parents.  My mom knew that very day, my dad found out a few years later.  But, I did tell my husband within a few weeks of our dating.  Why him?  Well - I knew from the moment I met him that I was going to marry him.  I knew that my life was going to make a dramatic change and he had to know because it wasn't fair for him not to know.  But I do remember telling him then that I was 16 at the time of my abortion - but it turns out I was 17 and it was the summer before my senior year in high school.  The year I was to fulfill all of the dreams and aspirations my parents had for me up to that point.

I hope to expand on my story in time with this blog - but for now, I'd like to tell you about my first child.  I've typed this line about 10 times now and deleted back and started over - it's that difficult - even now.

My first child's name is Grace Anne.  She was likely conceived in June of 1987 and would have been born sometime in March of 1988 - had I not aborted her on August 22, 1987.  She would be 23 years old this year and when I picture her in my mind now (and I have pictured her for the last 23 years in moments of grace) - I think of her as being 23 years old and with our Lord in Heaven.  I'm not sure what she looks like or what I think she looks like for a few reasons I hope to discuss later on.  When I was pregnant with my other children - the name Grace was on the short list of baby names, but something always nudged me away from the name.  I know now why.

So, on this journey so far, I'd like you to know Grace who is now glorified with our Lord in Heaven and who I like to think of as interceding on my behalf and on the behalf of her sisters.

Just in case you have no idea what it is like to be a post-abortive woman - just typing the above has filled my mind with thoughts from teenage sex that was not even remotely close to what sex is supposed to be about, to the sounds that filled the room the day Grace left my body, to my feeling her with me on retreat with Rachel's Vineyard.

Just for the record, the last 15 minutes or so of turmoil in my mind, heart and spirit while writing this - that's not "health care" and it's not "good for women", any woman.


  1. God's blessing is with your blog even if you never or seldom see the results.
    I will keep you and those who need the grace God wishes to offer through this blog and through prayers, in my own daily prayers. May God continue to bless you and your family, and others through you.A Prayer-Friend

  2. Thank you so much for the encouragement. You have no idea how much it means to me.

  3. I believe God led me to your blog today. Thanks for putting it out there.