Hi, my name is Rhonda.
I would like to tell you a story about myself. When I was 19 I had an abortion.

I was depressed and scared and felt like there was no one to talk to. Please listen…..
As I lay on the table listening to the doctor explain the procedure I was about to go through, my nerves were about to unreel. What am I doing here lying on this cold table staring at the ceiling when the most disgusting and humiliating thing was about to happen to me? How in the world could I have come to this situation? I felt my life was so bad that I finally found myself at the bottom of a barrel that’s how. Coming from a Christian home there was no way in the world I could tell my parents that I was pregnant!!!!!

Besides my parents, friends, grandparents, sisters, church members, anybody and everybody, what would they say? I was supposed to be this most shy, timid person that would never hurt a fly.

The doctor begins the murder process. Inserting a long tube into my body, the racking sound begins. Stop! Stop! I wanted to shout! This is insane! The pulling and jerking the pumping sound of that machine! Make it stop!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tears are streaming down my face. After what seemed to be and eternity there was silence. My baby was gone. Dead. Torn into many pieces, thrown into a trash can as if it were an empty milk jug. God will punish me. He will torture me for the murder I have committed.

It’s weeks later. I am still bleeding, sometimes really heavy. My head sometimes spins and I feel like I’m going to pass out. I’m getting ready to be married. I can’t have this happening forever. What is wrong? Finally I go to the doctor. He tells me that my abortion was really messed up, that he would do what he could for me but he couldn’t promise anything. Friday I get married.

The next week I’m admitted in the hospital for a DNC. I must be cleaned out of all the mess that still lies in my womb. What must be left? My baby’s hand, my baby’s head? This is the torture of guilt that God has laid on my conscious. I can’t stand this! The doctor comes into the recovery room bowing his head and quietly tells me that I have a lot of scar tissue.

“ Because of this you may never be able to have any children. Try not to think about it. Go home and get some rest.”

Today, I am a 45 year old mother of 3 children and 2 step-children. God heard my prayers and answered them to the most wonderful extent, but what I have written here is the first time on paper. The agony and torture of a scared 19 year old is still so fresh and vivid as the day it happened. If I had, had the right counseling and someone to talk to me, to let me know the risks involved, the mental torture involved, the emotional scares that I have endured all these years I would have walked out of that building that day without one look back, but I didn’t. No amount of information given to me at the abortion clinic could have prepared me emotionally for this.

Why didn’t they show me pictures of the fetus being ripped apart? Why? Because they knew I would leave there in a minute! No amount of time will ever heal these wounds that I carry here.

Well, that’s my story. I am someone who knows how you feel right now. Please, before you make any decisions, talk to someone, if not your parents, your pastor, someone here at Haven of Hope. We are always here to help you in any way possible to help you make the right choice for a better life.

Thanks for listening. Rhonda