Daddy, please don’t make me go! The words played over and over in my head as I thought about what happened that day.
The relationship was short but the words of love I held tightly in my heart. It was confirmed, I was pregnant. I was a stranger to him at that point.
Numb and confused I walked into the clinic.
“Can I help you?” the lady at the window asked.
“I would like to talk to someone, please.” I whispered.
“Have a seat, someone will be with you in a few minutes.” she said.
I hung my head as I looked around for a seat; I was relieved to see that no one else was there.
The door opened, I followed the lady to a room with a desk and two chairs. She closed the door.
“I am 11 weeks pregnant.” I said quietly.
“How does that make you feel?” she asked.
“I love children but when the guy found out he stopped talking to me.” I continued.
“I went home to stay with my parents and my dad is unhappy.” I said with sadness.
“He wants me to get rid of it.” I choked on the words.
“Well honey, at this stage it’s just a blob of tissue, it’s not really a baby yet.” she continued.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“I’m very sure!” she replied.
She assured me that the whole process would be quick and painless. The date was set. I struggled with my sin, my dads’ feelings and I wanted to keep my baby. I never wanted to disappoint my dad so I felt I had to do it.
The day came.
“Daddy, please don’t make me go!” I begged.
“You can’t live with this mistake for the rest of your life.” He argued.
“He told me he loved me daddy.” I replied softly.
I got in the backseat with my face buried in the door.
We walked into the clinic.
I felt desperate.
I wanted to turn and run out the door.
I can’t disappoint my dad, I thought.
I was greeted by the same lady. I followed her to a room with an exam table, the stirrups were up and ready. She told me to undress from the waist down, position myself on the table with heels in the stirrups and place the paper drape over my knees.
“Someone will be in soon.” she said as she left and pulled the door closed behind her.
Well, this is it.
I glanced around the room; I saw a tray of instruments and a big bottle with a hose. She said it would be quick and painless.
The door opened, two people appeared dressed in green from head to toe. I was alarmed to see them all covered up like that. I took a deep breath. I heard a male voice instructed me to slide my bottom down to the end of the table. The procedure began. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I fought back the urge to cry out from the pain.
It was quick but far from painless.
As I sat in the recovery area sipping orange juice I thought about all the blood and blobs of tissue being sucked into that big bottle.
I was numb, empty, angry and ashamed. I was silent all the way home and for days to come.
As I sat in church one Sunday morning I learned a devastating truth.
You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Psalms 139:13 NLT
I killed my baby!
I wanted to scream.
It wasn’t a blob of tissue!
I was in anguish.
I could hardly breathe.
I put my face in my hands as my tears turned to sobs.
How could I have done such a horrible thing?
I felt physically sick.
How could God let me live after I had committed such a merciless act?
It took time, a long time to work through my anger with my dad. I learned how to forgive him for making me go that day and myself for not taking a bolder stand.
He has not punished us for all our sins, nor does he deal with us as we deserve. Psalms 103:10 NLT
I will meet my baby, ‘Precious Joy’, in heaven someday.
Thank you, Lord! I give you praise for the personal peace that comes from your mercy as you release me from the torment of my sin.
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