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 (2nd 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.