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.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Not an elephant, but the Monster in the Room.

Over at the Lumina blog, another entry that hits all too close to home, especially for those whose abortion histories are so intertwined with their own mothers and others who coerced, forced, and otherwise convinced them to have an abortion.  It's a fine line between worrying for their souls as well as your own and harboring  anger and resentment that eats you alive.

The Monster in the Room

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