Dear Little One,
I didn’t expect your mom to be happy over the news of you. It’s one of a hundred things that I wish I could have changed. But if there is one thing that I have learned after twenty four years in this ministry, it’s that a precious life like yours isn’t always celebrated. We live in a broken world, and I’ve met a lot of hurting women.
I’ve had women confide things that have made me cry, and I have seen tragic situations that have made my heart literally ache. I’ve met women who assured me that having an abortion wasn’t a big deal, though the cracks in their voices always betray their words. I’ve also sat in rooms bursting with despair so deep that a young mother was willing to forfeit her faith and convictions over to a desperate heart swayed into believing that an abortion will make a wrong all right—a terrible lie masquerading as an enticing promise. I often feel like I’ve seen it all.
But your mom was different than most.
Your mom was married to your dad. No tragic story there. She simply didn’t want you. Your grandmother was also there that morning. She sat beside your mother nodding her support of the abortion decision, although I’m pretty sure I detected a hint of uncertainty when she nervously chuckled, “The funny thing is I’m Catholic.”
It wasn’t funny.
I once read that “the eyes are the mirror of the soul and reflect everything that seems to be hidden.” Eyes are a fascinating thing to me. Your mom’s were brown. I remember that they were remarkably dry that day. There was no hint of any hidden tears for you in them.
I promise I looked.
And when she looked straight at me and callously declared, “I just want this thing out of me” I wondered if she even noticed the sadness in my own.
I was a little surprised that they agreed to the ultrasound, but wasn’t at all when they refused to look at you on the screen. Seeing your tiny heart beating might have been a game changer for them, so they chose to turn their faces away. We printed a photograph of you, but they left before I could give it to them.
It was a rough day for me.
Could I have done more? I was walking fragile ground and had to tread lightly. I fought for you the best way I knew with the tools I had, and I promise you that I extended God’s love to your mom with all my heart.
A month ago I was organizing a messy desk. From a stack of paperwork, an unattached ultrasound photo of a tiny baby fell out.
It was YOU.
Your first and last picture.
I stared at you and studied you for a long time. How ironic it was to me that your beautiful life was growing and thriving just inches below a heart that was so cold and hopeless.
I kept your photo. Did you know that your picture sits at someone’s desk?
You are a treasure.
I think about your mom sometimes. I wonder if she secretly hurts like millions of other women who made the same choice. I hope I see her again. I often pray that she remembers the invitation I offered her. If she ever needs us, the pregnancy center can help her through the pain and regret of her abortion, lovingly tend to her wounds, and extend a love unlike any she has ever known. It would be an honor to point her to the Redeemer who can forgive her and give her the freedom to someday love you like we do.
Dear Reader: Not every woman struggles after their abortion decision, but many many do. If you or someone you know is struggling with pain and regret over their choice, contact your local pregnancy center. They will lead you to someone who can help.