Relief… it was over. I could move on with all the plans that I had for my future. I could breathe again. But that relief was short-lived. I had bought a lie, and what came next was guilt, shame, sadness, regret and secrecy. My story is the same as many others who have gone through the pain and the aftermath of an abortion.
In 1975 I was nineteen, unmarried and pregnant. I believed everything about abortion at the time. But they were lies.
- “It’s just a bunch of cells, not a baby.” A lie.
- “You can go on from this and live a carefree and happy life.” Also, a lie.
- “You’ll forget all about this when it’s over.” A big lie.
My heart knew the truth: I carried more than a fetus. In my womb was a living person—a baby. What I had chosen to do left a hole in my soul. I suffered a condition with a defining term: Post-Abortion Trauma.
Every part of my life was affected by my choice. I held people at a distance. I had a secret, and I wouldn’t let anyone close enough to know what I had done. I couldn’t walk through a store and pass books about abortion and not feel sick. I couldn’t listen to the nightly news and hear what was being said about abortion. I ran from the truth for a very long time.
I carried my secret for 24 years. One day while talking to a friend on the phone, I got very brave. Without even thinking about it, I shared my secret again. She didn’t skip a beat and went right on with our conversation. Her acceptance was the beginning of my healing.
That friend was my pastor. She suggested that we have a service to memorialize my baby. I acknowledged a life that was ended. I wrote and read aloud a letter to my child. I allowed myself to feel an emotion for the first time: I deeply loved my baby. I sought forgiveness from God, and He granted it.
“…the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”
— 2 Corinthians 1:3b–4
Have you suffered this pain? If so, reach out to Rachel’s Cry Ministries. I promise—we’ll reach back.
— Lynne Mattioli
