Skip to comments.I welcomed the rush of my own blood, wishing I could die: A post-abortive story of regret, healing
Posted on 01/31/2013 3:38:06 PM PST by NYer
Monica Bullock, survivor.
January 31, 2013 (LifeSiteNews.com) - I opened the door of the clinic, leaving the bright, warm afternoon behind me. Disoriented from the change in light and temperature, my heart raced. My palms felt sweaty. I blinked, adjusting my eyes to the dimly lit reception area.
Discreetly, I didn't look anyone in the face. From my peripheral vision, I noted an attractive black woman scratching a pen on a clipboard full of forms. Another woman, much older than I was, flipped through a ragged magazine, silently agreeing with my rule not to make eye contact.
I felt small and unimportant. I stood hesitating, working up my nerve again.
Somewhere, a radio station played an instrumental tune which I'm sure was meant to soothe me but only sharpened my fear.
My mind rehearsed all the reasons why this was a good idea. Nobody cared. Nobody would ever know. (One thing I've learned in life: Whenever you say, "No one will know," the most important people already know: That's you and God.)
I ignored the tiny fluttering of protest I felt in my tummy. (Is that the baby?) I felt my decision waver, but as if on cue, the receptionist stepped out from behind her imposing counter to greet me. Again, it was all about me.
Yes, she understood my dilemma. How right and smart and modern I was for coming by. I felt sympathy. I grew bolder.
Would I care for some water? I pushed past the niceties and dutifully accepted a clipboard and pen. Even before I finished, a cheerful nurse (I assumed) called me to the back. I barely remember writing my name, listening to the nurse describe the procedure, making my payment.
A shriveled doctor with cold hands strolled in, repeating the same information. I nodded my understanding. Yes, I had signed everything.
I saw the receptionist again. She handed me a paper gown and offered another smile that silently told me, "You're so brave."
Dutifully, I lay down on the paper-covered bench. The pain medicine made me woozy. The music seemed louder. Was the doctor humming between my legs? A nurse entered the room to witness my shame. I covered my face with my hand. I felt the doctor's cold, dry hands on my skin. I ignored the clattering of instruments, his incessant humming.
"It's not too late!" I thought. Then it was.
I felt the cold scraping inside of me. One, two, three. I muffled a cry. Tears, hot and hypocritical, slid down my face.
I welcomed the warm rush of blood I felt between my legs wishing I could die, too.
I don't remember what happened in the next few minutes.
The nurse wheeled me into a "recovery area," where I was told I had to rest with my feet up for 30 minutes. As I rolled down the hall in an odd bed/chair combination, I looked forward to having a moment to myself. Everything had happened so quickly!
I wanted to cry, scream, and cry some more but preferably in private. Out of sympathy or perhaps a sad habit, the nurse stuffed a few tissues into my hands. With a good push, I passed through the swinging doors to join a miserable company of four other women.
Except for the quiet crying of one young woman, the room was as quiet as a grave.
The nurse gave us a pep talk about the recovery time, having sex, and what to take for pain. I don't know what anyone was thinking. It hardly seemed appropriate to ask. I knew that what I just allowed to happen was wrong, wrong, wrong.
I watched the clock's minute hands spin slowly around. I wanted to flee, to run and hide.
My friend pulled into the driveway and whisked me away. I wasn't supposed to drive. I don't know why, but I turned to look back.
I left my baby behind. I denied her her life. I took everything away from her in just a few seconds. Her first smile, her first step, her first kiss. All her happy life, stolen by the only person she should always count on -- her Momma.
I can't find the words to explain the depths of my misery, how I felt then and for so long afterwards. When I couldn't cry anymore, I found new ways to help me forget -- no smother -- the anger, the guilt, and my great remorse.
My life is so different now. Many sad experiences happened between that first abortion and the godly life I have now. Before my visit to the Cross, I submitted to three abortions.
Sometimes, when we sit around the dinner table, Kevin my husband, Ryan and Jesse our boys, I think about the other three that should be there. I wonder about the relationships I stole my from living children too. Together we should be laughing, loving and living.
I know that God has forgiven me. Without a shadow of a doubt I know it. Still, sometimes I don't want to be forgiven. I want to go back and do it over again. I want my children.
I know that by the Holy Spirit, they are with me, waiting not to condemn me for my sins against them but to love me and let me finally be Momma.
Silent No More contact page
Rachel's Vineyard Ministries
808 N. Henderson Road 2nd Floor
King of Prussia, PA 19406 (610) 354-0555 (office)
(610) 354-0311 (fax)
“The other 3”??
Nothing to see here, just another modern day convenience.
The young woman sat in the doctors office waiting room and cuddled the 6 month-old boy in her lap. Soon she was escorted to an exam room.
The doctor finally came in, smiled, sat down, glanced at her file and asked Mrs. Jones, what brings you here today?
She hesitated — then the words tumbled out in a torrent.
Doctor, my husband doesnt make much money, we have 3 children now and Im pregnant again. Doctor we just cant afford another mouth to feed were barely making it now. She paused again. Doctor, I want an abortion.
The doctor sat back in his chair, laid the file aside and said, An abortion costs around 500 dollars and you probably dont have the money. I have a better, less expensive option.
Reaching into a drawer, the doctor extracted a scalpel and continued.
Lay the lad here across your lap and pull his shirt up so his chest is exposed.
Shocked, she blurted, What are you going to do?
Why, well simply kill THIS baby.
Clutching her son to her breast, she leapt to her feet and shouted You MONSTER!
The doctor paused, then spoke.
Mrs. Jones, the only difference between your proposal and mine is that one baby is IN your lap and the other is ON you lap and, therefore, much easier to get at.
She ran from the room, his words ringing in her ears.
Is abortion the killing of a human being?
Not according to Obama, NARAL and the other radical feminist gangs who require that abortion continue to be available to them as a last resort birth control method to allow them to persist in their sexually promiscuous lifestyle.
Ill believe its NOT a human being when a woman gives birth to a chicken, hog or a tree.
This is a good story; I’ve seen it written in various ways. Do you think it is a “coincidence” that our Abortion President has flies all over his face?
She had me until I got to the part where she admitted to having two more abortions.
God might forgive one abortion, I don’t know, but to ask forgiveness and then murder two more of your children? I don’t think so. The woman has no soul.
It sounds to me like she “got used to it,” and stayed that way until she became a Christian.
Although I grieve for the three babies she had murdered... as a Christian, I am happy that she has asked for forgiveness. Telling her story about how she is still affected, remorseful etc.. may sway some young girl. In a way, telling her story (coming clean so to speak) is brave. How many women do we all know.. silent about their abortions, yet we “assume” they are good Christian women? Unfortunately, the article didn’t delve into what her lifestyle was all about and why she fell into the abortion trap... I think that would have been interesting and telling. IMHO.
I think some would be surprised how many women active in our churches are carrying a secret, silent burden of having had an abortion.
I agree, Jeff. I read an article that 1 in 3 women have had an abortion. Even if that number is inflated, the chances of knowing women at Church, school, your job, neighborhood and even in your own family.. keeping that secret.. is not only possible but probable.
I don't think you are in the position of authority to say she doesn't have a soul, let alone if God would forgive her other two abortions.....
Wherefore I say unto you, All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men: but the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto men. Matthew 12:31 KJV
You are right, of course. I was angry that this woman felt bad about what she had done but not enough to refrain from doing it two more times, and now she wants us to feel something for her. Sorry, I don’t have the right or the power to forgive sins against God.
I was judging her and I don’t have that right, either. I believe that what the Holy Spirit has taught me, by way of my upbringing and my church, is that I do have the right, and the obligation as a Christian, to be discerning. It’s a little confusing so I borrowed an explanation from one William H. Adams who really seems to have handle on the difference between judgement and discernment:
“Were not supposed to judge; were not supposed to make a call on what is wrong OR right based on our own internal moral code. Were supposed to discern, with the guidance of the Spirit, what God has already judged. To do otherwise is to say you believe youre smarter than the creator of the universe. So give up your gavel to God and leave the judging up to Him, but dont neglect discernment; those with the spirit can discern all things.”
I thought about what I posted later and realized maybe I should've added a little bit more. What that women did was reprehensible; however, she came to know Christ and express true sorrow for her sins and to desire forgiveness.
Had she not been given God's courage to speak out about her sins and her salvation, you and I probably would've never known about. Nor, would many of other women struggling and tempted to have abortions of their own. The devil and his minions line up to tell them how "brave" they are.
If we bash the saved and criticize them, we #1 lend credibility to the argument that Christians are hypocritical and shut off non-believers from or message
#2 Tell non-believers that it doesn't matter, so go ahead and have an abortion anyway
#3 Come off as cruel and critical, so non-believers should fall into the welcome arms of the kind, compassionate, and understanding abortionists
#4 Set the perceived "bar" unattainably high in that we portray to weak believers or non-believers that there is some arbitrary threshold of sin that once you reach God will no longer show you Grace or Salvation in the name of Jesus......at that point how is a weak believer or non-believer to know when they've reached that threshold? What if they already have? Why bother with the church on Sunday bit if there is a good chance I've already crossed that threshold when I can cave to all my temptations and desires since it doesn't matter anyway?
Anyhow, my point to my original post was to provide a Scriptural response to yours. I will say that had she been my wife or girlfriend, I would have a nigh impossible time forgiving her. I would also find myself having a near impossible time trying to forgive myself for allowing it happen (ie if I knew etc)
I pointed out to you that God can and will still save this woman if she has faith in Him.......I also took from your post about discernment. - As steel sharpens steel, so one man sharpens another....Ecclesiastes (4?).