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.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

I need a thicker skin...

I've been riding a kind of high since the March for Life a few weeks ago.  I've received a lot of support and awesome, inspiring emails.  I've seen my story at work in others and it humbles me and spurns me on.  However, as I've said many times before on my blog, I'm a work in progress.  And this week, well the past few days, the dark side is winning.  Most likely due to all of the recent news coverage on the HHS mandate, my obsession with 24/7 news coverage, smaller every day frustrations piling up, etc.  When I begin to feel weak is when things get kind of scary and I come across things like the following article.  If I'm going to stay in this prolife fight which is where I think I am meant to be - though I'm not sure how just yet - I'm shaken to the core and want to retreat into the darkness.  Some days I can just move on through it and others, I'm completely stuck and not sure what it will take for me to climb out of the despair, remembering all the facts of my story for what it is to convince myself once again that I'm okay.
So how can you allow me to be tortured? Shouldn’t you be working to protect me from suffering? Why allow me to be torn limb from limb?  Letter from a 12 week old unborn baby

1 comment:

  1. I pray that the peace of Christ finds your heart and frees you from your despair. It's a tool of the enemy to make you want to retreat. Don't listen, and keep doing what you're doing. You are in my prayers.