Dear Mommy, I'm Sorry

I am in Heaven now, sitting on Jesus' lap. He loves me and cries with me; for my heart has been broken. I so wanted to be your little girl. I don't quite understand what has happened. I was so excited when I began realizing my chance. I was in a dark, yet comfortable place. I saw I had fingers and toes. I was pretty far along in my developing, yet not near ready to leave my surroundings. I spent most of my time thinking or sleeping. Even from my earliest days, I felt a special bonding between you and me.

Sometimes I heard you crying and I cried with you. Sometimes you would yell or scream, then cry. I heard Daddy yelling back. I was sad, and hoped you would be better soon. I wondered why you cried so much. One day you cried almost all of the day. I hurt for you. I couldn't imagine why you were so unhappy.

That same day, the most horrible thing happened. A very mean monster came into that warm, comfortable place I was in. I was so scared, I began screaming, but you never once tried to help me. Maybe you never heard me. The monster got closer and closer as I was screaming and screaming, "Mommy, Mommy, help me please; Mommy, help me." Complete terror is all I felt. I screamed and screamed until I thought I couldn't anymore.

Then the monster started ripping my arm off. It hurt so badly that I could never explain the pain. It didn't stop. Oh, how I begged it to stop. I screamed in horror as it ripped my leg off. Though I was in such complete pain, I was dying. I knew I would never see your face or hear you say how much you love me. I wanted to make all your tears go away. I had so many plans to make you happy. Now I couldn't; all my dreams were shattered.

Though I was in utter pain and horror, I felt the pain of my heart breaking, above all. I wanted more than anything to be your daughter did. No use now, for I was dying a painful death. I could only imagine the terrible things that they had done to you. I wanted to tell you that I love you before I was gone, but I didn't know the words you could understand. And soon, I no longer had the breath to say them; I was dead.

I felt myself rising; I was being carried by a huge angel into a big beautiful place. I was still crying, but the physical pain was gone. The angel took me to Jesus and set me on His lap. He said He loved me, and He was my Father. Then I was happy. I asked Him what the thing was that killed me. He answered, "Abortion”. I am sorry my child for I know how it feels." I don't know what abortion is; I guess that's the name of the monster.

I'm writing to say that I love you and to tell you how much I wanted to be your little girl. I tried very hard to live. I wanted to live. I had the will, but I couldn't survive, the monster was too powerful. It sucked my arm and legs off and finally got all of me. It was impossible to live. I just wanted you to know I tried to stay with you. I didn't want to die. Also, Mommy, please watch out for that abortion monster. Mommy, I love you and I would hate for you to go through the kind of pain I did. Please be careful.,/p>

I found this back in 1998, and have had it in a file under abortion since. I just ran across it looking for something else and wanted to share it.

Every time I read it I could not get through it without my eyes welling up with tears.

Some FReepers know this, but for those who don't, I am the product of a rape, and but for the fact that abortion was not legal and readily accessible in 1956, I am convinced my Mother would have aborted me.

I am the youngest of 8 children, and we were literally dirt poor. My Mother was not very strong willed, so it would have been very easy to convince her at the time to abort me. As it was, we lived on government cheese, powdered milk, beans, and what ever they could afford to buy on my Fathers odd jobs he could get and my Mothers job as a waitress.

The photo above is my family in Fargo Nd. My Mother is holding me in the doorway of our home. We moved to Duluth shortly after the pic was taken. We were not too much different from most large families, accept we struggled. I will never complain, because it helped to instill in me a desire to work hard so I would never have to count on handouts.

Even after we began getting handouts from the government after Johnson began his "Great Society" program I was not thrilled with getting things handed to me. I knew where it came from, and I promised myself as a boy. Yes, I was ashamed to use my free lunch card a school, and many times I never ate lunch, but again that just made me realize that scraping to make ends meet was not a good thing.

Being the youngest of 8 kids meant that my Christmas gifts consisted of cloths, or hand me down toy. I learned how to fix bikes to make them work, and be satisfied with a used Chemistry set and other used toys for gifts.

I liked what my friends had and learned that if I cut grass for the neighbors while helping little old ladies on the weekends doing chores around their homes and other odd jobs that I could buy things I saw my friends getting as gifts. By 12 I got a paper rout that had 180 customers I delivered papers to 7 days a week.

At 16 I met a girl at a skating rink who spent the weekend with me. Instead of shooting me her father gave me a job at his lumber yard driving a fork lift until he was satisfied she wasn't pregnant. Two Months later I got fired, dropped out of school to joined the army.

I am now 57 years old, and there has been many lessons in my life. I have experienced pain, heartache, and the joys of living in this once great country, but it would never have happened if abortion was legal in 1956 when my Mother had a very, very terrible day.

I thank God every day I wake up, and every night I lay my head on my pillow. When i read the story of the little girl aborted, I can only imagine that but for God, there go I.

I share this only because someone will inevitably say I am a man and I have no clue, so it should only be the woman's choice. I would strongly argue that the baby has a choice, and if it survives the womb, in time it will chose life. I know I do.

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