Wednesday, October 19, 2016

"Mom, That Baby Is As Much Of A Victim As You Are!" How My Daughter Saved Her Sister's Life, by Monica from Chile

I was very happy until I met him.  We had a relationship of more than 2 years in which I ended up being forced to endure everything he could think of until I was pregnant with our first child.  He and I each had children from previous relationships, so I just knew when I was pregnant.  He began to insult me ​​and abuse me even more -- until I lost my first baby.   It's a pain that hurts even until today -- more so when he started yelling at me in the streets that I had killed my baby.  

We had stopped living together and I had ended the relationship, but he kept going to bother me at my house, stalking me.  I had reported this situation to the police and in court, but nothing happened.  The court refused to grant me a restraining order.  As much as I called the police, they just told me they did not have a restraining order to be able to arrest him.

I remember one day, I did not have money for me and my son for transportation, so we walked from school to the house, which was very far and we arrived exhausted.  We went to bed that night and forgot to put chains on the gates of my house -- a situation that he took the opportunity to get into my house.  

He knew all of  our habits.  We would always drink water at midnight and that day was no exception.  My ex-husband put a powder in our waters, which was confirmed by testing weeks later.  With both of us drugged, he did what he wanted to me.  He raped me, and the result of that was that I became pregnant.  

I could not believe I was pregnant!  I had no partner and I knew that I had not been with anyone.   But the strange thing was that my ex-husband had stopped stalking me and had disappeared for those three weeks.

But the day after he drugged and raped me, my son and I had felt very strange.  We went to the emergency room and we took some blood tests.  It took three weeks for those results to come back.
When I discovered I was pregnant, I wanted to die.  I did not know how or why I was pregnant, but I was. When I saw my gynecologist to verify with a blood test, I shocked to hear him say: "You became pregnant two and a half weeks ago."  I wanted to die, really. 

I began to think about what could have happened, and I remembered that a neighbor had a surveillance camera at home, so we reviewed the recordings from the night my son and I were drugged, and we observed my ex-husband entering my house, because it was the night we had not chained it.  He still had only the key to the gate and door of my house, which he would not return to me.  So he watched for us to slip up by not using the chain, and he entered my home where he drugged and raped me.

I cannot say enough how much I wanted to die at the time!  I felt dirty.  I felt that everyone looked at me with disgust -- that was the worst.  So I sought help, and the first thing said to me was: "Abort!  How much are you going to suffer when you look at that rapist’s baby, and your memories come to your mind with all of the trauma?"

Really, I got to thinking, and I then became determined to kill that baby -- until I reached out to my oldest daughter.  She took my arms and angrily told me, "Mom, how are you going to kill that baby you carry in your womb?!  That baby is as much a victim as you are!  She did not ask to come into the world.  You always dreamed of having three children and, anyway, this will be your third child.  Did you forget everything you suffered in miscarrying your child and now you want to kill this baby who is a victim just like you?”

Those words touched me to the depths of my being.  She was right -- that baby was a victim of my rapist.  The trauma of my rape was already a great weight, along with what I endured during the last period of the relationship we had.  He was such an animal.  Just the thought of him caused me chills.
When he found out I was pregnant, I was already four months along.  He came to my house, he said sorry, and said he was there with the intention to talk like two adults.  He is a former Marine, and was a scuba diver for 25 years.  He knew how to act professional and calm when he wanted to.

We began talking very well when, suddenly, I felt bad.   I was vulnerable – a single mom, pregnant out of wedlock, exhausted, needing financial help.  He, very friendly, was telling me he would stay on the first floor in case I needed help, and I succumbed.  But at 4:00 in the morning, I got up to the bathroom and he immediately started insulting me.  Hearing me cry, my 9 year old son woke up, and when I turned toward my son, my son yelled at me: "Mom, watch out!!!!"  My ex-husband struck me hard.  I ran down the stairs, clutching my son and we stood in the kitchen.  I hugged my son, as I held a knife in my hand to keep my abuser away.

I called the police who told me they were on their way.  But an hour went by and I again called the police because he continued to threaten me and screamed more and more.  The policeman who answered listened on the phone and could hear how I screamed and could hear him threatening to keep beating me.  I told the policeman I was 4 months pregnant and with a child of 9 years right there with me, holding a knife in my hand to try to protect us.

The policeman screamed and I remember as if it were today trying to calm down the policeman.  He called on the other line to get other officers to my home, and in five minutes, they were there with three vans and two police cars.  A contingent of officers got out and had to break the window of my house to get in and rescue us.  They stayed with me, giving me police protection, until we were all before the Family Court.  At last, my ex-husband was given a restraining order – which he never respected.

I spent the remainder of my pregnancy stressed, anxious, frightened and suspicious of everyone -- until my daughter was born.  The doctor performed a Caesarean section on me early.  I named her Mailen, which means "strong woman" because this is the bond we have. 

Once she was born, I just wanted to leave that place and return to my home town in Chile and surround myself with the love of my family, getting away from any further harm and abuse.

Now I see my daughter who is 4 years and 8 months old, and I ask forgiveness for ever thinking  of
aborting her!  But such is the pressure, when you ask those who are supposed to help.  You doubt your own ability to love.  But if it were not for my older daughter who is now 24 years old, my 4 year old would not exist today.  You can survive with a child of the most aberrant act that is the worst violation – a rape.  Always find angels in your life who give you support – those who do not offer you “solutions” which are even more problematic.

Ladies, I particularly want all of you to know that my child is a blessing – MY blessing!  I will ask forgiveness to the last day of my life merely because I even thought for a moment about aborting my daughter.

Monica from Chile is a mother of three and now a blogger for Save The 1.  This story has been translated from our Spanish blog, Salvar El 1.
Monday, October 3, 2016

I'm Glad I Kept My Baby Even Though I Was Raped, by Hellen from Uganda

This morning I stepped out for ten minutes to run some errands since my little bundle of joy Ellis had fallen asleep.  As I returned, I heard a cry.  He had woken up as soon as I stepped out.  I asked the woman helping me if my baby was awake.  When he heard my voice, immediately, Ellis kept quiet, smiled and started to move his little head to try to locate me.  I was moved to tears.

When I was pregnant, many people gave me a lot of pressure to eliminate this little prince.  Why?  Because some very wicked man who was obsessed with me since 2012 decided to rape me.  Apparently, he thought if he couldn’t marry me, then maybe he would just take me and ruin my future.  Well at the beginning, yes, he seemed to have succeeded. 

I am a Christian, raised in a Christian family.  Therefore, I was to marry a Christian man.  I also worked for a Christian organization so any man who came my way and was not a Christian was a no-go zone.  That was the reason I turned down the marriage proposal of this man.  

I met this man near my home and he quickly started pursuing me and pressuring me to marry him.  He was a doctor and claimed he was working for Johns Hopkins hospital.  He promised he would do anything for me.  All this did not matter to me because my upbringing taught me never to trust men who didn’t love Christ.  I turned him down, but to him, it was like I had asked him to keep disturbing me.  He even asked if I would at least go take a cup of tea with him.  Well I did meet him for a cup of tea a few times, but near my home so that I could easily return home in case of anything. 

I think it was from the few meetings that this man mastered what I drank because I always liked a Coke. Then on the 13th of May, 2015 at 6 p.m., I received a call from the same man -- having not heard from him for several months -- and he was asking to talk to me.  I gave an excuse of being busy, but he soon announced that he was outside of my house.  Of course I couldn’t have him enter my house since I was home alone.  I went outside to talk to him and he quickly suggested we drive to a nearby eating place so we could talk.  He seemed friendly and pleasant about it, so I did not object to what seemed harmless.  Little did I know that the man had already worked out a plan to rape me.

When we got to the eating place, I asked for the usual Coke and I was served while he asked for a Fanta.  I can’t explain entirely, but I started to feel hot and sleepy, and the next time I woke up, I was in this wicked man’s car with no panties, very weak, dizzy and in pain.  It was obvious to me I'd been raped.  He in turn was all smiles.  I was horrified and so angry, but it was too late.  The fool just drove off and that was the last time I ever set my eyes on him.  When I reported the matter to the police, I was assured they would arrest him. To date, I have never got any positive news on an investigation or an arrest. 

On the other hand, having run tests for HIV and pregnancy, I was free from the HIV virus -- thank God, but I was positive to pregnancy.  At that time, everyone had strong reasoning for me to carry out an abortion.  First, my friends and family all knew it was a rape, and it was early so all I had to do was take a tablet.  I was quickly reminded how I was a Christian and so the whole world would judge me for getting pregnant before marriage – regardless of being raped.  I lost my job, plus all of my savings worth 10,000 dollars because the organization could not stain their image by having a staff member who was known to be single and pregnant.

Well, all were strong reasons, but not good enough for me to end another person’s life!  I could not imagine ending the life of this cute little boy (who will turn out to be great in this world) because of some wicked man’s actions.  The rapist was indeed wicked and deceitful in every respect, as it turned out he was never a doctor at Johns Hopkins hospital -- we found that out in the process of trying to arrest him.  The hospital administration never had such a person. 

When my son was born, I named him Ellis, meaning "consecrated for God."  I am glad I kept my baby, even though I have paid a heavy price for him.  Having grown up an orphan and knowing how hard it has been for me to get by, I am determined to take good care of my son.  I want to love him, provide for his needs and guide him into the best person ever.  I want him to have the best education, get the best medical care and have all the good things to help him grow.  At the moment, this means I have to get a job. But right now, a job means I having to be away from my son nine hours each day, and that is not what I want either.  I want to be there for him.

My dream would be if I still had my 10000 dollars, I would set up a grocery store, employ one or two people and still have enough time for my son.  I am determined never to be crushed by poverty to the point of looking for that rapist so he would provide for my baby.  May the good Lord help me to never sink to that level of desperation.  I never want that wicked man to set his eye on my son all the days of his life nor hear that he exists, which is why I have chosen not to disclose my last name publicly.

While pregnant with my son, in my search for hope, I got online and found Save The 1's website.  I am thankful to great people I have met through Save The 1 who have similar stories -- people like Rebecca who have given me hope and a reason to make it. I know they understand my pain and how I can overcome.  I hope to be trained to help women in the same situation in my country, and I've already learned so much from the others with this organization.  I will always look up to them. God bless Save The 1 highly.

Currently, I am struggling financially.  As I said, I am an orphan myself, so I have no family to lean on. I cannot pay rent, so my landlord has shut off power and is threatening to evict us.  But my son Ellis is worth every struggle and I will never regret having him.

BIO:  Hellen, a mother who became pregnant by rape, is from Kampala, Uganda and has a B.A. in social sciences.  She became active with Save The 1 during her pregnancy, since over a year ago, and is now a pro-life blogger for Save The 1.  If you are able to assist Hellen in any way, please email her at We tried getting various NGO's and other non-profits to assist, but were told her needs fell outside of their mission, or outside of their geographical region.

Her Spirit was Crushed, but Healing Begins ~by Melanie Clark Metzbower

A 13-year-old girl’s free spirit is nearly crushed by a horrific rape, but healing begins where she’d least expect it…

It's 1941. Wildflower McAllister is a free-spirit who just turned 13. Though she’s left with a bitter mother after her Daddy’s fatal accident, she draws strength from his memory. Like all little girls, she dreams, she wonders, she has secrets. She also has fears, two to be exact: “One is dying young. The other is Johnny Monroe.”

Wildflower has a secret shortcut to get to her father’s grave, where she goes to talk to him and God. One day she arrives to find her fears realized. There’s Johnny, and fight though she may, there’s no escape.  She’s attacked, and forced to grow up much too soon.
Battered, bruised, and left for dead, she’s finally found by her family who vow to bring her attacker to justice. She feels broken, every last bit of her. Her mother blames her unjustly. Her community shuns her. It feels as though God has abandoned her, too.

Then, the unthinkable—she finds herself pregnant by her abuser.
She didn’t want to get raped, she didn’t want to get pregnant. But she knew without a doubt that her baby did not deserve to die for the sins of its father. And that strength, that determination, that baby, set her free again.

To say I was refreshed by this book is an understatement. In a society that glorifies selfishness, this Kirkus “Best Book of 2012” celebrates something completely different. I kept finding myself surprised as I read: Surely, she will get away…. Surely, she won’t be pregnant…Surely, the baby will be miscarried, or aborted, or at the very least, given up? She wouldn’t actually demand to mother her child, being just a child herself? You bet she did.

Through the eyes of a 13-year-old girl, we get a glimpse into the world of a mother from rape. Her strength, and her commitment to her child are inspiring:
Wildflower’s mother, along with the local doctor, pressure her to have an abortion, and her response is to “…cuss them both out to their faces...”
“If there is a baby inside me, I want to keep it safe, even though a part of me hates it for even existing.”

“…I decided not to blame the baby for being there. Just like me, it had no choice in the matter.”
“As hard as I wish it never happened, I can’t wish this baby away. It would be like trying to wish away the river in front of us.”—could there be a more profound observation?
In a moment of mercy, she even feels sympathy for her attacker—knowing he was raised by a mother who never loved him, and later abandoned him.

We live in a world where independence and self-fulfillment must be achieved at all costs; where pregnancies only contain “babies” if they are:
-Without any chance of defect (determined by prenatal testing)
-Conceived in love by two consenting adults (or, with parts donated by parent  A and parent B, mixed    and implanted into parent C, to be raised by parents D and E)

If any of those factors are missing, society tells us pregnancy is simply: A clump of cells, defined only by the mother’s feelings; disposable; acceptable to destroy. And if that pregnancy came to be through rape? Even in the pro-life community, many turn away from their convictions, conscience, and scientific truths to allow that child to be killed.

To me, being pro-life has never been a question—it’s where my heart is. It’s who I am. No matter the circumstances, babies are babies: Precious and beautiful, created in God’s own image. Every baby is worth protecting, celebrating, and loving.

I never imagined when I picked up this little novel for a book club that it would have such a profound effect on me. The characters come alive, as they do only in the best books. The prose is rich, transporting the reader right to Katy’s Ridge, Tennessee.  Wildflower’s keen observations, subtle humor, and strength of character make The Secret Sense of Wildflower a joy to read. The best surprise of all, though, was the undeniable life-affirming message that is the story’s very core.
P.S. Lily’s Song, the story of Wildflower’s daughter, was just released—I can’t wait!

BIO:  Melanie Clark Metzbower is a wife, mother, and Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG) survivor. Before her daughter was born, she was an active volunteer with Maryland Pro-Life Alliance PAC. In her free moments, she enjoys reading, writing, cooking, and travel.