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Showing posts with label unplanned pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label unplanned pregnancy. Show all posts
Friday, January 5, 2018
A Tale of Two Mothers Who Were Pregnant By Rape, by Nicole W. Cooley
Just touch one, Lord. . . . My repeated prayer ever since I first told my story almost twenty years ago has been the same -- for the Lord to somehow use my saga of shame and regret to help someone else. He's always answered. The first time I shared my testimony publicly, a woman came up to me afterwards and said, "Thank you for sharing. My mother forced me to have an abortion when I was sixteen. I have always felt it was wrong. You're the first person to validate what I've always known." But, my favorite answer to that simple prayer lies in the story I'm about to tell.
First, let me tell you my own journey. I grew up in a Christian home. As a teenager, I remember my father telling me, "Abortion is wrong. I'm pro-life except in cases of rape or to save the life of the mother. As with most of my father's opinions, I took his and made it my own.
A short time later, my biology teacher told the class to write a birth plan for an unplanned pregnancy, and I refused: "If I never get pregnant, there won't be an unplanned pregnancy. Abstinence works 100% of the time." I never contemplated at age 15 that just a few years later, my "plan" would be tested -- and I'd learn the hard way that this "plan" fell way short of preparing me for reality. . . .
I met him on an airplane while traveling home for Christmas. He offered to get down my overhead luggage for me, and then refused to give me my suitcase. As I followed him off the plane, still asking for my suitcase, he said, "I'd like to carry it a while longer, if that's okay. Would you like to get something to drink?" Surprisingly, I decided I liked him, and agreed to give him my phone number.
When he called a couple of weeks later, I invited him to church instead of going for a drink. He counter-invited me to attend his church. Thrilled he was also a "Christian," I readily agreed. When I told him, "I'm waiting for marriage for intimacy, so if sex is what you're after, we should end this now," he assured me, "You're preaching to the choir." He lied.
I'm convinced now that he was in the later stages of a significant pornography addiction. I can't rationally explain his behavior any other way. You see, a pornography addiction left unchecked, will always lead to acting out what you read about, and look at. Over time, your conscience is seared, and just like a cocaine addict, you'll do anything to get your "fix." For him, I would be his fix -- whether I agreed or not.
When his initial attempts to lure me into bed were futile, he turned to the date rape drug.
One night I had a horrible dream. In my dream, I was back on my old college campus -- only now, I was in the later stages of pregnancy. Late at night, I went from dorm to dorm, looking for a place to sleep. Desperately tired, everyone turned me away. Finally, my former boyfriend let me in, but told me I'd have to use the top bunk. With difficulty, I climbed up, and subsequently fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, I woke up and told my "boyfriend" about my dream. His eyes were as big as saucers. At that point, I still didn't know. But then I went to the bathroom and something unusual fell out of my body. Plus I had a growing awareness of soreness, and I knew something was wrong. I ran out, and yelled, "I need to go to the emergency room!" He convinced me nothing had happened, but two weeks later, I learned the truth.
Denial has a sedative effect. People who have never been there like to say, "I'd never allow myself to be abused like that!" When you have the starring role in your own horrible TV reality show, it just doesn't seem possible. In fact, your mind helps you to believe it's not really happening in order to preserve your sanity. I couldn't believe my boyfriend -- the man my heart had set on marrying -- would rape me. So, I believed him instead . . . , until two weeks later when two positive pregnancy tests forced me into a reality I wasn't prepared to face.
In the days and weeks after realizing I'd been raped, I walked around in a daze. My dayplanner for work usually had very little "white space" due to all of my notes. The near-blank pages after the rape reflected my distracted and zombie-like mental state. I merely went through the motions of life.
At the same time, the world's standards demanded I make a life or death decision for another human being. I just couldn't. So, I leaned on those I trusted most -- my family, my best friend, and my church.
I tell people now that if you have the honor of being asked for your opinion in the case of an unplanned pregnancy, be prepared to give a real answer. Telling someone in crisis, "Whatever you want to do, I'll support you" is of no real help at all. She's asking for definitive advice. She needs to hear, "I know this feels horrible and you can't see how you're going to get through this, but you will. I'll walk with you every step. You are going to make it. You're strong. You can do this. I know nine months seems like forever, but it's really not. Don't make a decision today that you will regret for the rest of your life. Choose life. It's the best choice for both of you."
Unfortunately, the only specific advice came from my pastor. She told me, "Let me put your heart at ease. In the eyes of the church, any decision, prayerfully considered, is okay. In your case, I think you should have an abortion. You need to be able to move past this. You should have an abortion."
She went on to tell me about her two daughters who had also faced unplanned pregnancies. One had chosen adoption, the other abortion, and both were equally good decisions, she said. She dismissively added, "There's a couple in the church who want to adopt, but, no, you shouldn't talk to them. You need to have an abortion."
I remember my heart telling me, "Isn't there something in Psalms about this?" My heart began to break as the door slowly closed inside. I felt I didn't have a choice. I was convinced that nobody would adopt my baby with my having a 50% chance of carrying the gene for neurofibromatosis (a horrible disease my Dad battled most of his adult life.) I began to steel myself for the abortion. I felt like a lamb being led to her death inside. I didn't believe I had a choice.
After the abortion, I learned there is something worse than being raped. The abortion felt like being raped again -- only worse, because this time, I had consented to the assault. In both cases, men assaulted me physically. The second trauma -- the abortion, shut me down emotionally, putting me over the edge.
It took four years to begin the slow path out of denial and into healing in Christ. If it hadn't been for the wonderful husband God sent me, I don't know how I would be here today. He told me from the beginning, "I love you, but what you did was wrong." That chink in my denial helped me years later, after the birth of our first son, John, to finally see the truth. It shattered my heart. But, it needed to break . . . so God could put it back together again.
A "Divine appointment" took place a few years ago when I spoke at my church. Plans for me to speak had been rescheduled several times over many months until the Sunday in November when I finally shared a ministry update with our church. I now work with the Center for Bio-Ethical Reform, sharing abortion victim images primarily on college campuses across Virginia and the Southeast. That day, I prefaced my talk by saying my words weren't meant to condemn anyone, and not to believe the Enemy if they felt that way.
As a post-abortive woman myself, I understood that misplaced guilt all too well. I explained the reasoning behind our work, citing the work of successful historical social reformers like William Wilberforce, Lewis Hine, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.. And, I showed pictures of first trimester abortions -- little babies, with limbs and appendages torn from their tiny bodies. It's devastating to see for the first time. And, I had no idea there was a pregnant rape victim in the audience that day. . . .
Morgan told me two months later that she'd been there. Sitting in the audience, it had been a rare Sunday for her to be in church at all. She told me, "You were there for me."
The night she'd been raped, she had snuck out of her home to hang out with friends. Gang-raped on the way home, she hid her ruined clothes, and told nobody, except a few close friends what had happened. When she discovered she was pregnant, her high school friends arranged for her to have an abortion the following Saturday. She had told her parents she had a sporting event in Washington D.C. so they wouldn't be suspicious when she left for the abortion.
But, then, in church, she heard my testimony and saw the pictures -- and she knew she couldn't do it.
Morgan gained the courage to tell her parents what had happened -- despite feeling ashamed she had snuck out of the house and that she'd planned an abortion. They rallied around her, and supported her in choosing adoption for her baby instead. During her pregnancy, I was able to connect her to Save The 1 and she joined their private Facebook for birthmothers from rape, so she wouldn't have to be alone in this. A family at the church put her in contact with the perfect family for her baby. Months later she gave birth, and named him "Justice."
The pain from losing my son Matthew is the single greatest regret of my life. It crushed me. Abortion forces a mother to turn against her own flesh and blood. It's self-destructive like no other trauma -- the scars run deep. Rape is traumatic too, no doubt. But, compounding the trauma of rape with the second trauma of abortion is contraindicated. Abortion hurts rape victims; it never helps them. The best choice for the mother who has conceived in rape is to continue the pregnancy, surrounded by supportive family and friends, or through the support of a pregnancy resource center.
Visit Save The 1's booth at the March for Life Expo 2018 and meet Nicole in person!
Thursday, March 24, 2016
I Never Associated the Rape With My Daughter, by Wedencise Lubin
As a first generation immigrant from the Caribbean islands, life really came at me fast. In November 2010, at 17 years old, after a lifetime of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of my parents, they decided to rid themselves of the burden of having to live with me. I was a high school senior in Florida at the time -- six months shy of graduation. I had already secured a full scholarship to Howard University in Washington, D.C.. My future was pretty much laid out, so I thought.
Then that's when my parents made the fateful decision two weeks before my 18th birthday to send me to go live with two male relatives, both of whom were notorious for a history of violence against women. I begged and pleaded for my parents to accept me to return back home. I sought outside resources for shelter; but as fate would have it, I would end up living for a total of four months with these men. Within two months of living there, the unthinkable happened: I was brutally raped of my virginity, molested and physically abused in every single way imaginable. I was told by the two male relatives that if I told anyone, I would be killed. To say I was horrified, dehumanized, terrorized and completely shell-shocked is an understatement.
In the summer of 2011, during a routine physical for college, I learned that I was six weeks pregnant as a direct result of the incestuous rape. I was a virgin when the rape took place and I had never been with any other man. My doctor was just as devastated as I was. I remember the doctor and nurse practitioner repeatedly telling me they were “so sorry that this has happened.” Immediately, my doctor told me I had three options: 1, Abort the baby 2, Adoption and 3, Keep my baby. This was not a tough decision for me. I am and have always been pro-life. What furthered my convictions was that my doctor ordered an ultrasound for me at six weeks pregnant. As soon as I saw that ultrasound, I realized that I was carrying a human life inside of me. No matter what, I did not have it in my heart to terminate this human life, regardless of the heinous, barbaric crime that had been perpetrated upon me. I never associated my unborn baby as being responsible.
Of course the rapist demanded I get an abortion and my family demanded I give the baby up for adoption. Adoption was not an option for me because I was already beginning to bond deeply with the unborn child I was carrying. No matter what, this was MY child! This was my flesh and blood and I was her mother. In February, 2012, I gave birth to my daughter Valencia Marie. Having my daughter alone at 19 years old, even though I was terrified, confused and shaking, when my mid wife handed me my child, I knew it was love at first sight.
By 2012 a full-on criminal case investigation was in full effect to get my rapist convicted of the crimes he perpetrated against me. After immense pressure from my family, I pursued child support. In retaliation, the rapist filed for partial custody of my daughter and then for full custody. I fought hard to protect my daughter from this monster. Luckily, the courts did not grant my rapist any parenting time and he has never spent time with my daughter, though he's still fighting me in court. Along the way, I never ever regretted not choosing abortion or adoption. Raising my daughter has been completely worth it. I never associated the rape with my daughter.
I am so thankful to be a mother. First and foremost, my biggest blessing in life is my daughter. This gorgeous, intelligent child never ceases to amaze me. Each and every day I fall more and more in love with her personality, her charm, and her bright energy. Being a mother is absolutely the gift that keeps on giving. I learn more about my daughter each day as she learns more about me. I am absolutely a loving nurturer, so being a mom just always came naturally to me. It is truly something I wake up every day thankful for, because I know there are some people who cannot have children. So the fact that I get to experience this great milestone in life is a huge blessing. I await the day I am blessed with more children in the distant future. The fact that my own mother was very awful to me and never loved me, taught me that a mother’s love is undoubtedly one of the most important forms
of love in a person’s life.
True Love is when I look into my daughter’s eyes. Valencia is the love of my life. And whenever I have more children, they will always be the most amazing love of my life. To be a mother really shows you the love your capable of. I would gladly die for my daughter. I want nothing more than for my daughter Valencia to feel the endless love my heart has for her and for her to have all the happiness in the world. I want to raise my daughter to know that no matter how far we are, our souls are connected and that nothing can ever break our bond. There is nothing my daughter can ever do that can limit my love for her. This is the type of motherly love I will always have for any future children as well.
I went on to attend technical school and graduate with a certificate in Medical Administration. I am now earning my Bachelors in Health Services Administration, then I plan on earning my Master's in Management. I currently work in medical education at the largest medical school in the country. Later on down the road, I plan on becoming a Hospital Administrator or working in Emergency management, since I handle crisis very well. So you see, having an unplanned pregnancy out of rape, in no way ruined my life or my education.
I have never loved my child any less because of her biological father. Often people ask me how I feel about my daughter because her father is a monster who brutally raped me. I ask them a rhetorical question: "If a child's biological father was Hitler, Saddam Hussein, or Bin Laden, does that make them less of a child worthy of endless love?" The fact of the matter is NO, absolutely not! As human beings, we do not choose who our biological parents are. Whether it be a serial killer or a rapist, that child is pure, and that child is innocent. That child is a new life. I believe new life begins at conception. In the future, when I have more children, I know for sure I will not view little Valencia who was conceived from rape any different from my children conceived in wedlock.
BIO: Wedencise "Wendi" Lubin resides in Florida and is a mother, college student, and blogger for Save The 1, as well as active with Hope After Rape Conception.
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