I grew between West Virginia, Ohio and Oklahoma.  The first I can remember my dad molesting me is when I was four years old, living in Columbus, Ohio.  It was Christmastime and my mom was with my younger brother who was in the hospital with asthma.  We almost lost him.  I was home alone with my dad, on the basement steps with my back turned, and my dad was touching me inappropriately.  I didn’t like it, but I was afraid. 

My dad was a mean drunk, like the devil was in him.  On one occasion, my dad had me run up and down a hill with a little puppy, then he took that puppy and hung him right in front of me.  On another occasion, he told me he’d put a bunch of kittens in a bag and ran over them with his car.

Whenever my dad wanted to touch me, he was drinking whiskey and I had a feeling of dread come over my shoulders.  I never told anyone, but my mom eventually knew what was happening and she didn’t stop it.  In fact, at times, she was in bed with us when he was abusing me.  I remember it always hurt.

At the age of 11, I lost my virginity to my dad.  Again, I was afraid and confused.  I didn’t even understand what was happening.  My mom was in the room sitting at a table.  When he was done, he walked over to my mom and chastised her, “You let someone else get her before me.”   Then he started to beat on her.

The abuse went on for years, about four or five times a week.  When he would rape me, I would close my eyes, my body would go numb, and I would go somewhere else in my head.  I knew what he did to me was wrong and I felt different from others.  At a young age, I just thought that this must be how daddies love their daughters.  But around the age of 13, I realized that this is not the way things are supposed to be.  I began looking at boys and realized that normal attraction is toward people closer to your own age.  I liked boys my own age, and my dad should have only been attracted to my mom.

From a young age, I had become a loner.  I was a skinny little girl with long hair and sad eyes.  Other children made fun of me and I didn’t want to talk in front of others because I was bullied a lot.  I felt like my dad controlled me, and I felt dirty. 

In 1965, at the age of 14, I told my mom that I missed a period, but she just told me that it was okay and that it would come back.  But I missed it again and I knew that meant I could be pregnant.  That’s when my mom and dad took me a strange house in New Rome, a suburb of Columbus, Ohio.  I thought we were just visiting one of my dad’s friends. 

My mom told me everything would be okay.  I could hear my dad talking to this strange man.  Then my parents left me alone with him.  I was afraid and starting crying.  He took me down into his basement.  I remember he had a cloth with a strange odor that he put over my mouth, and then the next thing I knew, I woke up at home bleeding profusely out of my privates.  My mom had ice in bags that she was putting on me, with towels around me to soak up the blood.  I was confused at first and didn’t know what happened to me.  I didn’t know anything about abortions.  My mom never said a word to me about what was done to me.  Really, we never talked at all -- same thing with my dad.  We didn’t talk.

Within a week or two, he began raping me again, and it went on for another two years until I left home at the age of 16.  I met a man who was 21 years old who wanted to marry me.  My mom helped me to leave so that my dad would finally have sex with her. 

However, after I left home, my dad tried raping my 13 year old sister, but she was able to fight him off with the help of my two younger brothers and my mom, who ended up getting severely beaten by my dad.  Then my sister told a neighbor lady.  Knowing he would finally face arrest, he headed up into the hollers of West Virginia and they couldn’t find him.  My parents eventually divorced.

I felt terrible when I knew that they had fought so hard to protect my sister, but had not protected me.  I talked to my brothers about it, and they just said, “We were kids when this all started.  What we were going to do?”

Looking back, I realize now that my mom and dad had forced an illegal abortion upon me in order to protect him.  They didn’t want me to have a baby and have the truth come out that he was the father. I feel like I missed out on a blessing, even though this was my dad’s baby.  I grieve that I missed out on something.  I know I would have loved my baby.  It’s not the baby’s fault that my dad molested me.

 

My children are my life.  My son was born four days before my 17^th birthday and from the beginning, I loved him completely.  My children come first in my life.  I am totally pro-life.  I took my daughter to the March For Life in Washington, D.C. when she was 14 years old.  Despite what I went through, I think I’d be pro-life regardless because I love babies.

Abortion is the end of a life – someone who is part of you.  It’s much better to carry a child and put him or her up for adoption.  Every child is a blessing from God.  My baby had a soul.  I feel sad and angry at what my mom and dad did to me – it wasn’t their right for me to be raped and it wasn’t their right to take that baby away from me.  One day, that baby will be in my arms.

It makes me upset when I hear people say that it’s necessary to have abortion legal in cases of rape or incest, but you need to think about what abortion does – it ends a life and it protects the perpetrator.  Even if a mom was taking a girl for an abortion, that could be like my mom who was just trying to protect my dad and herself, because she’d been letting him molest me for all of these years.

My mom and dad never apologized for everything they’d done to me.  I had gone nearly a dozen years without seeing him, but when I found out he was dying of cancer, I went to see him because I thought that no one should have to die alone.  I told him, “Dad, I forgive you for what you did to me.  I forgive you, not for you, but for myself.”  He surely heard me, but acted like he didn’t. 

I still struggle.  I have nightmares to this day and I’m still in therapy.  No one should ever have to go through what I went through, and I just hope that my story will help someone with their life – whether you have suffered abuse, whether you are a mom who is concerned about her husband or boyfriend’s behavior, or whether you’ve suffered an abortion.  No one deserves to be harmed.  Everyone should be able to live a peaceful life.

BIO:   A post-abortive survivor of incest, Joyce Ann Born is now a mother of two and a grandmother of six, residing in Ohio, and is now a pro-life blogger for Save The 1.

Today I stumbled upon an article from The River Front Times discussing the barriers that the State of Missouri has for women seeking abortions. As a Missourian and a post-abortive woman, I take great exception with this glossed-over attempt to paint abortion as nothing more than an afterthought. Alison Dreith suggests that a woman who seeks an abortion does not need time to reflect or think, they "just need it.” 

I fought for the 72-hour waiting period and even went to the State Capital to speak about my own abortion experience. I find it insulting that she can so casually dismiss the loss that I and millions of women experienced because of abortion. Yes, there is shame, there is loss, and there is a lifetime of emotional pain involved with abortion. It's not isolated -- it is widespread and the norm. This is the ugly little secret that the pro-abortion supporters don't want to talk about.  

Missouri is not restricting women from having abortions. The 72-hour waiting period is designed to provide the woman time to reflect and ensure she is making a truly informed decision. It is there so she does not feel pressured and offers her time to seek other alternatives if she so chooses. The thing that Ms. Dreith is missing is, once that decision is made, there is no going back. There is no returning to the clinic and having the baby magically placed back in our wombs. This is a decision that deserves, at the very least, 72-hours. 

Let's be real here. This is not a decision to be taken lightly, we are talking about a life. No matter which side of this issue you are on, we can all agree that a life is being taken. Why does the 72-hour wait scare the pro-aborts so badly? Is it that they care more for the woman? No. Sadly, they know if they let those women go, then there's a chance they won't come back, and they will lose that money. It is about the money.

I received my abortion at Hope Clinic in Granite City, Illinois. My experience at that clinic was vastly different from the experience described by Ms. Dreith.  At first, they appeared very caring and genuinely concerned for me, but when I entered the abortion room, things changed. As I laid there and cried uncontrollably, the nurse kept telling me to "shut up" and the doctor repeatedly told her to get me under control. I can still remember the bruises on my shoulders from being held down. I was screaming that I wanted my baby and that I did not want to go through with the abortion. I had changed my mind, but it did not matter -- they were going to do it anyway. 

I also remember every girl in the recovery room. There were no casual conversations or discussions, no smiles, no laughter. No plans were being made for BBQ's later in the day or week. A heavy cloud of death permeated the room and the painful reality of our "choice" was slowly and permanently closing in on us. That is my memory of The Hope Clinic. 

I was unable to walk out of the clinic.  My father carried me in his arms. The pro-life sidewalk counselors weren't screaming and they weren't "shaming” me. They were praying for my soul and the soul of my child.  And as I was entering the clinic, they understood the weight of my decision and what I was about to face.  Don't get me wrong -- the clinic did offer counseling; however, it was at an additional cost.

I now work within the pro-life world and I am very confused by Ms. Dreith’s vague comments concerning the “lies" that crisis pregnancy centers tell women. What are the lies? Why didn’t she name them? I can tell you first-hand that there are no lies being told. Crisis pregnancy centers are very careful to tell the truth. They tell these young girls and women that it is going to be challenging and at times hard. The difference, though, is an abortion clinic affirms these women's fears that they can't do it, that there is no hope, and that abortion is the only answer. They do everything they can to affirm to them that they will not make it unless they have the abortion.  

Crisis pregnancy centers walk with these women. They don't leave them or abandon them when the baby is born. They are there as long as the woman needs support, providing a hand up. Crisis pregnancy centers fight for women, we give them the tools they need to make it in life and to give their babies life! 

I went through a post-abortion recovery program totally free at a crisis pregnancy center. At no point in time did anyone ever try to shame me or condemn me for my "choice." The love and compassion I received and thousands of women every year receive did not come from Planned Parenthood -- it came from a pregnancy care center.

I respectfully ask every woman in the great State of Missouri who is facing an unplanned pregnancy to please go to the nearest pregnancy resource center and talk to the volunteers before ever entering a Planned Parenthood. The services are free; from pregnancy tests to STI testing, from post-abortive counseling to helping her choose an alternative to abortion. They are literally waiting to serve these women with love, understanding, compassion, and HOPE! I promise you that if you walk into one of these centers, you will leave with hope!

There may be one Planned Parenthood which does abortions in our state but there are over 70 pregnancy resource centers which will give a woman all the love and support she needs during an unexpected pregnancy. Here is a link to all these abortion alternative centers in Missouri: https://ramahinternational.org/help-in-your-area/missouri/

BIO:  Angela Grogg is a founding member of Hope after Rape Conception and a pro-life speaker and blogger for Save The 1.  Her 14 yr old daughter conceived a son through rape.  Finding out early on that Missouri had no laws to protect rape victims and their children, she tirelessly lobbied to change that and on 8/28/12, SB 638 became law, protecting victims and their children from being victimized further by the rapist. Angela is also post-abortive. 

I didn't tell anyone initially; after all, he threatened me immediately after, telling me that I would live to regret it if I told anyone, that he’d make my life miserable, and that nobody would believe me. A couple of weeks later, I told a friend. After talking with a few people, and finding out that he had already been spreading his version of what happened that night, no one believed me. People who I trusted and loved and who should have supported me did not.  I began to just deny the whole thing and started trying to block it from my memory. 

I didn’t think a lot about the possibility of being pregnant because I had a distorted view that because it was rape, then it was somehow less likely I’d become pregnant.  It wasn’t until I started having symptoms that I began to realize I might be pregnant.  I drove to a different town by myself to buy a pregnancy test kit, doing the test in the gas station bathroom so no one in my hometown would ever know.  Before I took the test, I had kind of already thought ahead of what I would do if it came back positive, and so, I had the name of a pregnancy center with their phone number because I thought they were an abortion clinic.  I felt extremely scared and angry there all alone in the gas station restroom.  I was angry at God, asking “How could you allow me to raped?”  I was angry at myself for putting myself in a position to allow this to happen.

From a pay phone, I called the pregnancy center and they said I could come in right then, which I did.  It was about an hour drive for me.  I trusted no one at this point and chose not to tell any friends or family. I felt like this would only confirm what people were already saying about me "making up the rape." I went to the crisis pregnancy center because I thought it was an abortion clinic, hoping to get one that day.

They were so nice to me and told me everything I already knew about the life inside me.  I didn’t feel like I was judged by them at all. They only had certain days of the week that they did ultrasounds, and I would have had to return two days later to get one.  Crying, I told them I was so scared and couldn't handle facing people with the pregnancy, and that I was still going to go to an abortion clinic when I left there.  The counselors told me that even if I did go through with an abortion, that I was still welcome to come back there and talk to them about it.  To this day, 17 years later, I still have a relationship with one of those counselors.

Scared out of my mind of facing ridicule, having to address the rumors the rapist was already spreading, already overwhelmed from my reputation being slandered, I drove to an abortion clinic that same day.  It was the opposite of the pregnancy center, which was warm and inviting, even though it still had the feel of a medical office.  But the abortion clinic was cold and sterile.  There were others in the waiting room, but no one would look at each other or acknowledge each other’s presence in any way.  There was no privacy speaking to the receptionist, telling her why I was there.  She they could see me, but I’d have to make an appointment to come back to get the procedure done the next day.  I told her I couldn’t skip school another day, so she said they would take me right away.

There was no waiting and no questions.  All they cared about was that I had the money to pay. They didn't even care that I was by myself. It was the absolute worst experience of my life -- even worse than the rape.  I kept telling myself that it was going to be okay, that I was raped, so this was justified, and I would get through this.  I didn’t believe any of it, so I just kept saying it to myself over and over again.  I told God that it was all his fault, and I was just so angry in the moment.  But I knew that there was a baby inside of me.  I knew that life begins at conception, but in my 17 year old mind, I just wasn’t making the connection. 

The abortion clinic estimated I was between 14 to 16 weeks pregnant, so they used ultrasound during the procedure.  The screen was turned so I couldn’t see it.  I don’t know if it malfunctioned, or if the nurse made a mistake,  but I heard my baby’s heartbeat, and that was when the connection finally happened.  I told the doctor that I wanted him to stop, but he said it was already too far along to stop.  I was out of it because they’d given me a Valium to relax.  The nurses helped me to get cleaned up and to get dressed.  They were rushing me because they needed the space.  I wasn’t ready to move or to go anywhere, but they didn’t care about hurting me or that I was upset.  They didn’t offer to walk me out to my car, or even ask if anyone was there to drive me.

I sat in my car in pain and crying for 2 hours before I could even think about driving home.  I really shouldn’t have been driving at all that day.  The problem had been taken care of according to society, and I should have been relieved and ready to go on about my life, but relief was the farthest thing from what I felt.  I remember having a dialogue myself, like a good vs. evil talk, first telling myself, “You did what you had to do.  Did you really have any other choice?  Most people would understand what you just did.”  But then I’d tell myself, “You know that was a baby.  How could you do that?  You’re a horrible person.”  I thought, I must not really be a Christian.

For many years, I did anything I could to numb my pain. I barely remember college because I drank all the time. I also struggled with an eating disorder and honestly don't know how I survived, but by the grace of God.  I was attending church this whole time, but part of me just felt dead and I still really questioned, “How could God love me?  How could He ever forgive me for killing my baby?”

With lots of counseling, I stopped drinking and I curtailed the eating disorder.  We focused on the rape for a certain period of time and worked through that, which was helpful, but we hardly ever touched on the abortion.  My therapist even told me, “You really did what you need to do in that situation because you were raped.”

I met a Christian guy through church, and we abstained from sex until our wedding night.  I felt like I’d have enough garbage in my life and I wanted to do things right and honor God.  But as time went on, I still suffered from depression and struggled with the eating disorder.

I’d always felt that because of the experience I had when I went to the pregnancy resource center, I knew that later in my life, I wanted to be involved in this kind of ministry.  We had just had Sanctity of Human Life Sunday at my church, and I told my pastor that the nearest center was about an hour away and that there’s a huge need for a center in our area.  He felt God had given me a vision, and encouraged me to start a local center.  So I got people together and we began to plan the opening of a pregnancy resource center.  During that process, I heard of post-abortion ministry for the very first time by visiting other centers and learning what services are offered.  I dove into reading about post-abortion syndrome, and I realized that this was my big issue, and that’s why I’ve suffered so much.  It just all clicked.

So a couple of years ago, I went through a post abortion bible study, finally understanding and accepting God’s forgiveness and grace.  I’ve finally overcome the eating disorder.  I still get depressed at times, but it’s manageable and no longer dictates my life.  I’ve now started a post-abortion ministry through our local pregnancy resource center and I’m guiding other women through the healing process.

I'm here to tell you that abortion is never the answer.  It will only cause an already painful and difficult situation to be even more hurtful. During my abortion procedure I was terrified. I kept asking questions about what was about to happen and no one seemed to want to answer me. Looking back, I think they wanted to hurry up before I had a chance to change my mind. For many years after, I would have terrible anxiety and even panic attacks at times any time I heard anything that remotely sounded like a heartbeat. For a long time I didn't know that's what I was reacting to and it wasn't until many years later when my husband and I were expecting our first child together that I connected the anxiety to certain sounds. 

I lived in my own private hell until I went through the post abortion Bible study and found healing. The pain I felt all those years literally felt like it would kill me at times. I was very depressed. There were times I cut myself thinking that it would release some of the pain I felt on the inside. There were many times I thought about ending my life and a couple of times I came close to trying. I honestly thought my eating disorder would eventually kill me and that actually became my intention with those behaviors. I felt like I deserved to suffer and not live any resemblance of a happy life because of what I did. 

I want people to hear my story. As hard as it is to tell, it it needs to be told. Something terrible happened to me on that date that night. Then I was betrayed by the people closest to me. All of that was extremely painful, but it doesn't come close to comparing to the pain, the guilt, the shame, the remorse, or the self hatred I heaped and Satan heaped upon me in the years following the abortion. I thought at the time that I was justified in what I was doing because I didn't choose to be in that situation -- I was pregnant by rape. I knew there was life inside me but I thought it wouldn't matter because of how that life got there. I've never been more wrong about something. Aborting a baby that's the result of a rape doesn't affect the woman any differently than under any other circumstance. I've talked with many post-abortive women over the years through working with a local pregnancy center and what I've learned is that we all share the same pain. It's absolutely no different. The end result is still the same.

My prayer is that through me telling my story, more rape victims will speak out about as well, so that we can put a stop to rape being an excuse for keeping abortion legal. I love and grieve for that baby's life, just like I would for either of my other children. I think about every day how old she would be and what she would be like. I don't know if I would have raised her or placed her for adoption, but it's terribly unfair that she never got a chance at life. Even though her life was cut short as a result of the abortion, that didn’t stop her life from having meaning and purpose, and through me telling our story, I’m ensuring her life was not in vain and that she will be remembered. 

BIO:  Tammy is a wife, mother of 2, post-abortive ministry coordinator, serving on the board of a pregnancy resource center, and is now a pro-life blogger for Save The 1.