Posted on 01/25/2003 2:46:47 PM PST by unspun
The State of Texas County of Bexar
Before me, the undersigned authority, on this day personally appeared Susan Renne, (Print Name) who, being by me duly sworn, upon oath, stated the following facts:
My name is Susan Renne . I am over the age of eighteen years, and I am of sound mind and competent to make this affidavit. I have personal knowledge of the facts stated in this affidavit, and I do solemnly swear, or affirm, that the following facts are true:
I was fifteen years old, growing up in Leawood, Kansas, when I realized I had not had a period in a few months I brought the subject up to my twenty-three year old boyfriend. He asked me if I was sure, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. I told him I did not know for sure how many months I had missed, maybe two or three months and that I did not know what to do. My boyfriend said we had to know for sure so I would need to go get a pregnancy test. This led to a frantic search that ended abruptly. My boyfriend said that there was a Planned Parenthood Clinic off of Roe Avenue called Comprehensive Health.
I went to this clinic the very next day. A receptionist greeted me and gave me some papers to fill out. A few minutes later they said they would give me a free test in order to confirm I had missed my period. The wait for the result was about half an hour. I was told I would need to wait for a clinic counselor who would give me the results. The counselor (I think her name was Peggy) seemed to be attractive, soft spoken with a gentle flair. She was very much in control. She reminded me of myself when I was at work selling magazines over the phone. I even noticed that she used many of the sales pitches that we had been taught to use at the publishing company. I expected her to say she was a doctor, or professional counselor, or a licensed social worker like my mom's friend but she never did. She just said she worked for Planned Parenthood. I asked her if she was a nurse or something and she said she was not, but she was there for me to talk to. I know now she was just a Planned Parenthood sales woman plain and simple. Even though I was only sixteen, it was so obvious to me. That is why I noticed the similarities to my own sales techniques at work. She said my test was positive and that they were going to take care of that for me. Never were the words "pregnant" or "baby" used. She said that I had missed a few periods and that they were going to start them up for me again. She said they were just going to "clean me out". She asked me if I had any questions. I said no then asked her if it was going to hurt? She said it would be very much like a regular check up with my doctor but it would take a little longer and I might bleed a little bit heavier in the beginning of my period than I normally did, but it would go back to normal. She told me to remember that they were forcing me to have a period again, that it was not my body naturally doing it this month.
All I could remember or focus on at that point was that she had repeatedly said that they were going to clean me out and clean me up. I kept thinking to myself, how dirty could I be? I then asked if I needed to take more showers. She said no, but had a quizzical look on her face. She then said something like "No, we're just cleaning up and taking care of everything and that way you won't have a positive test result." Her answers did not seem to be clear so I asked if they would give me something for pain and what were they cleaning up anyway if I shouldn't shower more? She said nothing was wrong and reiterated it was just that they were forcing me to have a period and my body was not naturally doing it. I remember thinking I was not even sure what a period was exactly except that I bled each month. The look on my face must have communicated more effectively than my words because she pulled out a picture and said it looked like this. The picture looked like a spot of blood. She said that's what they would be cleaning out a mass of tissue that was inside me. She added that it was nothing more than what I am used to seeing each month. She did say they needed to make sure they get all of the tissue out; otherwise it could cause me problems later. I was given a pamphlet on what I needed to do, there were some preparations on what to bring, what to wear, and mentioned I would need a ride home. She said I needed to get the money and come back for the procedure this week or it would cost more money. I was never asked how old I was or to show an identification. Nothing was asked of my parents, family physician, nor medical history that I can remember. I was too confused to give anything but my real name and age, but I could have made stuff up if I had thought to do so. Alternatives to the "cleaning me up" procedure were out of the question because none were ever mentioned. The word "baby" was never mentioned. I do not even remembering anyone even mentioning the words "fetus" or "pregnancy." Abortion was not a choice for me. I was so unknowing! I did not even know what sex was exactly until a week after I had it! I found out through a comment I made during conversation with a date of a guy I hung out with! My boyfriend asked what was said during my appointment. He asked things like did my parents need to come with me or sign anything for my next appointment, etc. I told him they never mentioned it and then I went on with what the woman said. He was concerned about the money.
Within a few days I was back in the clinic waiting for them to call my name for "the procedure." A woman in scrubs showed me to a room where I undressed. I was instructed to lie down and put my feet in the stirrups. She seemed to be a nurse and she took my blood pressure and temperature. This was the only examination I received before my abortion. I was instructed to put my feet back in the stirrups, and to be still and do not move even when it would be uncomfortable.
The doctor walked in and introduced himself as he put gloves on and wheeled his way to the end of the table. He moved a tray of instruments and a machine. I just kept thinking to myself "they are just removing a blood tissue and cleaning me up." They said it was no big deal. That it was just like my last pap smear. Why was I so scared and uncomfortable? Something just didn't seem right but I couldn't put my finger on it. My thoughts were interrupted by the doctor's voice telling me he was going to give me a shot in my cervix. He said I wouldn't feel anything. I did feel something, and it was not my cervix, it was something inside, and I did not understand what I was feeling. I was feeling something and I did not like it. I felt the pinch of the shot, and then I heard the awful roar of the machine as it was turned on. Then I asked if there was any way to stop this. Both the doctor and nurse hesitated. The nurse replied with a stern, almost angry look, and I remember her saying something like "don't even think about that. Be strong, Susan, don't go crying on me. I don't need you getting emotional on me." The doctor then told me he was going to scrape inside me but I wouldn't feel anything. "That is why I gave you the shot," he said. I saw him pick up a silver skinny knife off the tray beside him. How wrong he was. I felt it. In the background a noise, something like a generator, shattered the room. Then the doctor said loudly he was now just going to clean things up. When I heard that noise I realized what he was doing inside of me. I felt horrible tugs from up and deep inside me. It was as if he was tearing pieces of my flesh from my body and ripping my soul away one tiny part at a time. I heard the small vacuuming sounds like chunks being sucked through a long tube, and then the disgusting slurping kind of noises.
I did not entirely understand that he was sucking little parts of my baby from inside me. I did not imagine a baby at all, but it was not just what I saw every month, it was not just clots of blood, this I did know. I knew at that moment that I had done something terribly, terribly horrible. It was physically painful, yes excruciatingly painful, but there was another kind of pain that I cannot describe, one I certainly did not understand or could put to words at the time. It was this pain that has stayed with me. I have grieved with that pain with a groaning too deep for words; a scream from within my soul, and not one person ever said it was wrong. I just knew these things at sixteen and I could not explain it.
The procedure went on and on it seemed until approximately 45 minutes went by. I just remember thinking to myself, "Am I going to die? I wish I would. What is happening to me?" That moment in my life marked a part of me that died with my baby and I remember going into a trance like state, like nothing mattered anymore. I was aware of what was going on around me but I was numb and the pain just did not matter. My body went limp and I did not fight the pain anymore. I did not cry anymore. I was just simply there. In many ways, this is where I've lived for almost twenty years. A tangible panic gripped the room, as the pain worsened. The nurse was no longer stern. Her empathy was powerful. My baby had been further along than believed. She stroked my head and moved the hair from my forehead saying comforting words. It was like she was hurting too but it just did not matter. I was not making any noise. I was not moving only tears dripping down off my face. Finally it was over. The doctor said there was nothing more he could do. There was no emotion in his voice. Take her to recovery, he said.
One of the nurses said something about me needing some help. They were asking me if I could move my legs. I made it to the recovery room with two nurses helping me. I remember there was a gush of blood when I was first up and then another gush of blood at the doorway to recovery. I had just been through something from which there is no recovery. I was lying on that cot while two other groups of girls came and went. They checked my blood pressure, temperature, and changed my pad every 15 to 30 minutes.
I had a miscarriage within months of my abortion. I had three surgeries within eighteen months. I was told there was so much scar tissue that it had grown through the uterine wall into the base of my spine causing the intense pain at my lower back. My new doctor, Dr. Jouvanaut, told me that during surgery he found only one ligament holding the uterus inside my body. He said if my uterus were not so tilted it would have fallen out my vagina by the time he got to it. He explained he had to take ligaments from other areas to tie it up and then the tissue would grow together over time. He kept saying things like: "I can not believe you were walking around. How did you deal with the significant pain? He did not know pain and the kind he was talking about did not even matter to me. It was just there, like me. He told me the birth control pills Planned Parenthood gave me were like sugar pills and served no purpose other than to help hormone levels stabilize when slight variations were a possible problem. He put me on a strong dose of a birth control pill. He said a study had shown this dosage to be effective in slowing down the growth of this scar tissue called endometriosis.
This scar tissue was the reason that I have been on Lupron shots, Danacrine, and other hormone therapy drugs on and off for twenty years. These drugs were not only expensive, but they had a variety of side effects. Weight gain, migraine headaches, hair in unwanted places, and other masculine qualities like aggressive behavior and muscle bulk. None of these compare to the tragedy of four babies lost to miscarriages and a lifetime of self-hate and self-destruction. I have battled suicide three or four times since my abortion. The first attempt to commit suicide was within a week of the abortion. I became like a magnet to men wanting to use me. Within three months following my abortion, I had four different sex partners, posed for playboy magazine, entered bikini contests, experimented with drugs. I did anything to feed my self-abasing esteem.
I experienced a rape within five years of my abortion and became pregnant. Miraculously, I gave birth to a son whom I felt I must adopt out for his own good. None of this pain and heartache could have any comparison with the impossibility to comfort the sort of pain that I experienced with my abortion. The fear and filthiness of the rape all washed away when I heard my son's first cry of life. Tears of joy replaced that pain at that very moment. Giving my son away was just as emotionally painful, but there was the joy of life and the peace that came with it. He was so beautiful and so wonderfully perfect. I kept him for a few days to give him nursing milk because it helps babies in so many ways. Most of all, I stayed with him because I loved him so much I wanted him to have the best. I knew I certainly would not be the best for anyone let alone a beautiful baby, but for a while I was the best for him. Not one other could give him the breast milk of his mother, only I could, and for a while that made me the very best for him.
There was a waiting period before he could be with his parents, and I decided to stay in the hospital and spend as much time with him as I possibly could. I did not want him to be in a foster home at all. I cherished each and every moment we spent together. Not so when I took the life of my first child through abortion. I did not get a moment to even consider the child let alone any other option. I question how this is a choice. I question now how can a woman choose if she is not given the right to be given options and possible complications from that choice. Abortion did not protect me. It hurt me in every aspect of my being. I have suffered greatly physically, emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually.
If not for the grace of God, I would not be living in this world. But some how I believed a statement that I had read. It said that God so loved me that He gave His only begotten Son that whoever believed in Him would not perish but have life everlasting. I could not believe it at first but I kept reading because it sparked a hope that my baby was somehow not dead, and I may be able to see my beautiful baby again. It said Jesus came to heal the sick. I was sick with heartache but I still didn't understand how God could love me after what I did. These words jumped out at me. All have sinned and fallen short of God's glory and to all He offers salvation from any and all of our sins. The old person passes away and the new person comes to life through Jesus Christ. He will make me white as snow. That was it! This was for me! I just needed to ask God's forgiveness and believe what He said was true and that I did!
It has not been easy. It has taken sixteen years after this to finally accept God's forgiveness for my abortion. I just couldn't face what I had done and how it affected me until now. I wanted to leave it way back there in a place far from my consciousness. The problem was I continued to struggle with some of the same self-destructive patterns that began with my abortion. I couldn't seem to accept I deserved a happy and fulfilling life. I still couldn't accept that I was worthy of love only salvation from hell. I couldn't until I started seeing a low self-esteem in my beautiful nine year old daughter. When I realized I taught her to hate herself by the way I allowed others to treat me, but most of all, by the way I treated myself spoke loud and clear to her. It was then when I accepted God's total forgiveness. I realized God and my baby wanted me to forgive myself and I couldn't heal unless I let go of my guilt. It is something to feel that weight come off. I have joy again for the first time in twenty years. I allow myself to enjoy life and the beautiful gift of life and motherhood God so gracefully has given. It is a process and it has begun within me. I believe that abortion is not the answer to an unwanted pregnancy, and that it is not a sociological cure. Abortion hurts! I know that abortion weaves a web of lies no one wants to talk about let alone face, yet we see its destruction in the lives of millions of women and the people who love them.
I have read the above and foregoing statement and the same is true and correct.
SIGNED this the 27th day of September, 2000.
SUSAN RENNE SUBSCRIBED AND SWORN TO BEFORE ME, the undersigned authority, this the 27th day of September, 2000.
If you know of someone who may wish to tell her story, or if you wish to look further into this, their Web site is http://ooc.lexi.net.
Sure. I was a child, and as such, was not so savvy as to be able to spot a sales pitch instantly, not so savvy as to ask whether someone was a doctor, nurse, or a certified counselor... yet at the same time, so innocent as to be unaware of what sex and pregnancy were. This story is so obviously bull I can't believe anyone can read it without snorting.
...and her uterus nearly fell out, but a couple of years later she carried a child to term with no problem.
Hmmm.... could this be the pro-life version of someone fixing to sue McDonald's because they got fat? Hmm.... betcha Planned Parenthood has LOTS of money.... oooh, nice fat out of court settlement, she's thinking... like hitting the lottery! Mmm, yes...
Being a man and being far removed from this particular story, I can see how some people could choose to be callous about it. But how could someone truly not understand how a very naive and traumatized fifteen year old girl could be, in these horrific circumstances?
Because the circumstances are completely and blatantly fabricated. I'm not losing any sleep over all the Iraqi infants who are starving due U.S. bombing of "baby milk factories" either.
FMCDH
And the weight gain. Don't forget the weight gain! Oh well... odd that "finding God" hasn't eased her pain. Perhaps a juicy settlement will do the trick.
Rather, I think we've discovered something here in FR'land. For those who think President Bush was wrong to make a distinction in being a compassionate conservative, just take a look into some of the posts here.
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