I tensely mumbled good-bye to my boyfriend who sat in the clinic waiting room while I stepped through the next door. I was not prepared for what greeted me.
Fear, Hope, Dreams
Before me stood a long line of woman in various stages of pregnancy all waiting their turns to have an abortion. I had not expected the line. It was like a scene out of the Holocaust where people waited to board trains that led to death.
When I told my boyfriend that I was pregnant, he responded that he was not ready for a family. He asked if I would have an abortion. Neither was I ready. I was only twenty, and we both had big hopes and dreams for our futures. I wanted to be a dancer, an actor and a writer. Having an abortion seemed like my only choice.
Even though we had spent four years together, my boyfriend’s reaction sealed my conviction that he was not the man for me. I wanted someone who was strong and would stand by me no matter what. As for me, I was too afraid to face pregnancy alone.
I numbed my mind and emotions in order to stay and wait my turn to have my baby’s life taken. A clinic assistant had showed me an ultrasound of a fetus around the age of my own. She had pointed to an area and said, “See that? It’s just a cluster of cells.”
I was put to sleep and awoke in a recovery room full of women with the same stricken looks. It’s the only time I can remember being in a room full of women where no one was talking. I looked around and vowed that no one would ever know what I had done. I would go to my grave with this horrible, humiliating secret.
The relationship with my boyfriend quickly deteriorated. In order to start over, I moved from New York to Florida where my dad lived. In Florida, I began the Dare to Dream dance company that served children from the Naval base. I have always called my students my kids because I do more than just teach dance. I believe if you can teach a person one dance step, they can dance their whole life. And if they can dance, they can dream. I often wrote poetry that I recited at my kids’ recitals. For instance the poem, “My Child” in which I say: A child, oh a child, don’t hide them from the light. Love them, care for them, teach them how to pray…. A child oh a child, give them all your love. Welcome them, cherish them, and teach them to dream.”
Even though I had buried the pain from my abortion, my poem was a hidden plea to my kids not to make the same mistake I had of failing to love and cherish a child. Ironically, in spite of the pain of my abortion, I still considered myself pro-choice. By burying the pain, I did not have to think it all through.
During this time I became an American Red Cross volunteer at the naval hospital. One day a good-looking doctor attracted my attention. Tom seemed a little put off by my bold invitation to dinner, but within five days of our first date, we knew we wanted to marry. Actually, it only took me the first date. When he showed me his car, outrageously painted in multicolored patches, I spotted a square that was not filled in. Instead, it had a picture of a shark and a dinosaur. When Tom explained that a little boy from his apartment building had painted the picture, I knew he was the man for me. The last guy I dated did not even want anyone eating in his car. I knew Tom had the qualities I wanted in a husband.
Becoming Pro-life
Tom transferred to Connecticut and we married in a civil ceremony within the year. By the following year I had joined the Catholic Church and we married again in the Church. Although Tom and I both wanted children, the first year of our marriage he was sent to serve in Japan for seven months. Before his departure, I visited a doctor and explained I had severe abdominal pain and sickness during my monthly periods. He suggested giving me a shot of Depo-Provera — a contraceptive that works for several months. The doctor determined that it would prevent an untimely pregnancy since Tom would be away for so long and also take care of the monthly pain. I did not tell the doctor that it was only since the abortion that my periods had become so painful.
When Tom returned home, he was a very different man. He had grown spiritually and had become fully convicted in all aspects of his Faith. Tom also became actively pro-life and eventually refused to prescribe any form of contraception or do sterilization surgeries. His stance caused great persecution from his colleagues, but Tom steadfastly refused to go against the teachings of the Catholic Church. During this time, I was still quietly pro-choice. I kept my feelings to myself as I watched my husband’s faith and convictions solidify. Once, when Tom asked me if I had ever had an abortion, I lied to him. He was the man of my dreams and I desperately wanted to be the woman of his dreams. One day, Tom brought home a picture of an aborted fetus dumped on a garbage pile. The baby was fully formed at thirty weeks and had weighed two pounds and two ounces. The sight sickened me and I became completely pro-life from that day on.
Tom and I tried for three years to conceive a baby. He was transferred to Connecticut and I started up another dance studio. I kept busy, but my failure to give my husband a child devastated me. My intense abdominal pain continued and I had also developed a dull aching pain in my left breast that never went away. The only thing I was told to do regarding the breast pain was to avoid chocolate and caffeine, which never helped. Finally, a doctor diagnosed me with having endometriosis as the cause for my abdominal pain. I have since learned that this medical condition is common in women who have had abortions.
Surgery to remove the endometriosis required the removal of my left ovary and fallopian tube. Now my chance of pregnancy was even slimmer. I was put on a drug that duplicated menopause in order to rid my body of the endometriosis that surgery could not reach. Amazingly, I became pregnant at this time. Tom and I were ecstatic. He was at my side for the ultrasound when the baby was six weeks. When the nurse pointed to an area and explained it was my baby’s heart beating, I broke down and sobbed. Tom put his arms around me, convinced my tears were from joy. In reality, I realized at that moment that the “cluster of cells” pointed out to me before my abortion had actually been my baby’s heart.
My pregnancy was healthy and I again pushed away thoughts of my other baby until the moment of Gabrielle Anna’s birth. As I experienced the miracle of her entry into this world and beheld her beautiful face, my first thought was, “I killed someone.”
Through Gabrielle, I experienced love like I never had before — as a mother. It was getting harder to pretend I never had an abortion. Tom was now heavily involved in the pro-life movement, however, so I could not imagine breaking the truth to him.
Telling the Truth
Three years later I was again having difficulty conceiving and my medical problems grew. After a surgery to remove a polyp on my uterus and remaining fallopian tube, I developed a rash on my left breast — the one that always ached. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Then, the next day, I learned I was also pregnant. I knew I needed Tom’s support now and the only way he could fully support me was to know everything. “God please give me the strength to tell the truth,” I prayed. “I need your help to love all three of my children.”
I went to confession and talked to three different priests to get the courage up. Tom knew I had something to tell him, but the words kept getting caught in my throat. Finally one morning, he asked, “Did you have an abortion?”
“Yes,” I cried, afraid of his reaction. Tom put his arms around me and gently said, “Honey, so many women are hurting from this. We both lost a child.” My tears released a floodgate of pain and brought relief. We melted into each other’s arms and I fell in love with him all over again. Tom’s strength and love was deeper than I imagined possible.
Tom asked if he could adopt my child. We named her Sarah Eve Messe and had a plaque for her placed on the Memorial for the Unborn in Tennessee. Now, I was free to love all three of my children. I also felt God’s grace and love holding me up through the ordeal of my pregnancy.
During the pregnancy, I had a mastectomy and modified chemotherapy. I had to delay radiation and full chemotherapy until after the baby was born. I joined a support group for pregnant women with cancer. I also went through Post Abortive Counseling Education (PACE.) I learned that women who have had abortions or been on Depo-Provera have a huge increased risk in getting cancer. I was angry that women are never told this. But through all the support and counseling, I was no longer a slave to the pain of my abortion. Even though I became bald and now had only one breast my heart sang the praises of God and with the joy of carrying a new life in my womb. Getting cancer actually gave me freedom; the freedom to grieve, heal and love the child I lost to abortion.
I had a sureness that God would keep my baby safe. As for me, I prayed for survival, but I knew if the choice came down to my baby or me, I would lay down my life for my baby. There was no fear in this realization, only a deep sense of peace and love.
At thirty weeks, I developed preclampsia so the baby was born early. This had no connection to my cancer and took everyone by surprise. Christian was born weighing three pounds, two ounces, fully formed and so beautiful. I wondered why God had chosen to have him born early. “Is there a message in this?” I wondered. As I looked at my tiny son, something about him looked so familiar yet I did not know what it was. When I returned home without my son, I opened a draw and pulled out a picture. “That’s it,” I realized. Christian was the same age and almost identical weight to the aborted baby in the picture that had made me pro-life. I knew what God’s message through Christian was now: Life is precious at every stage.
Christian is twenty months old now and healthy. My cancer is in remission so my health has returned. I will never stop thanking God for the gift of my family. Together, Tom and I will work try to prevent other woman from making the mistake I did. And through my testimony, I hope I can help other women who have had abortions to heal and experience the freedom to love the babies they lost.
This article appeared in Amazing Grace for Mothers. Charnette Messe is a contributor to Amazing Grace for Mothers, a collection of 101 stories of faith, inspiration, hope, and humor. To learn more, visit AmazingGraceOnline.
