Thirty years ago, at the urging of my then
boyfriend, I had an abortion.
He convinced me we weren’t ready to have
children, promised we’d get married one day and have children later, said we’d
be together forever, and assured me that he loved me.
I believed every word.
So, on a Saturday morning, I drove myself to
Planned Parenthood and my life was forever changed. As was our relationship.
Nothing was the same between us after we made the decision to end the life of
our child. Nothing. Within a year, we broke up.
That fact is, most couples involved in an
abortion experience together don’t make it. The act is just too traumatic
to be reminded of it constantly by being together.
There’s no question it changed our
relationship, I don’t think we ever looked at one another the same. I’d catch
myself watching him and wondering, “How could he say he loved me when he
allowed me to go through that?” Like me, I would guess, he was wondering
himself, “How could she actually go through with it?” Confused, with broken
hearts, we said goodbye to our “happily ever after”.
Through the years, I thought of him often. When
I did, it wasn’t with compassion or sympathy, but of hatred and disgust. As
time went on, I found myself loathing the man I once loved and wanted to grow
old with. I hated what he’d done to me, loathed him for what he’d made me do. I
blamed him for years for what happened until I finally had to accept my part in
ending the life of our baby.
In my mind, I’d imagined he was going on with his
happy, successful life, having forgotten all about me and the child we’d lost,
and this made me angry.
I hated hating someone so much, and knew I had
to do something about it, so I chose to volunteer at a local pregnancy resource
center. My reasoning? I felt if I could help other women from making the
same mistake I’d made, it would help me deal with my own pain, guilt and shame.
I was convinced post-abortive men weren’t suffering the same effects as the
women they’d impregnated, and completely detached myself from having empathy
for these post-abortive fathers.
After going through my own healing process, at
the encouragement of family and friends, I decided to write a book, “They Lied
to Us”. I not only shared my story in the book, but the stories of other women
who’d chosen abortion and how it had forever changed them. Although I changed
my own post-abortive father’s name in the book, I felt an obligation to tell
him about it.
After thirteen years, I picked up the phone and
dialed his number.
He recognized my voice immediately. Then,
something happened that will always be etched in my mind. He began to cry, then
sob. I could barely understand his inaudible voice. Finally, he calmed
down and began telling me he’d waited and prayed for this call for over a
decade. He said, “I’ve been wanting to tell you how sorry I am for what I made
you do. Can you forgive me?
Please, forgive me.”
He went on to say, “As a man, it was my job to
protect you and our child. Our choice has haunted me ever since. I’ve been in therapy for years trying to deal
with it. I wish we could go back and change it.”
In that moment, something changed within me.
The hatred I’d felt for so long was gone. What I
felt now was true compassion, empathy and sympathy for this man I’d grown to
despise. Frankly, I was shocked. I had no idea, that like me, he’d been
traumatized by our decision to end the life of our child. His healing was made
complete when I said, “I forgive you.” And, I meant it.
It didn’t end there.
I asked him to forgive me as well. Because no
one held a gun to my head when I walked in that abortion clinic and allowed my
baby to be taken from me. We talked a little while longer, then said good-bye.
A ten- minute phone call changed us both.
For me, it brought the healing that was missing in my heart. It also
shifted my paradigm as to how I’d view the post-abortive father from that point
on.
I’d had an epiphany. Men were hurting too. Men
were experiencing pain and trauma of a past abortion, yet no one was talking
about it. Any time the issue is mentioned, the focus is on the women and
babies. The men are forgotten. But, we must recognize, these aborted babies had
fathers.
Throughout our culture, men have been made out
to be “tough, macho, insensitive, without emotion or feeling”.
If they care to be vulnerable, they’re labeled
weak. But, the truth is, men are affected by abortion in some of the same ways
as women. There are 55 Million+ post-abortive men in this country, men
who are suffering alone from the effects and trauma of an abortion. We can no longer silence them. They’re not
talking about it because they’ve never been given permission to do so. They’re
afraid of how they’ll look or maybe convinced themselves no other man feels
this way. This is just another tragic ramification of abortion.
Throughout my speaking career, as I’ve traveled
around the country sharing my own story, I’ve met hundreds of men at my events.
They come to meet me at my book table, many confiding in me, a woman they’ve
never met, because they know I’ll listen, without judgement or condemnation.
Again and again, I hear the same things.
“I’m haunted by the abortion.” “I have no
one to talk to about it.” “No one understands.” “We’re in pain too”. Walking
away, they’ll whisper, “Please, don’t forget about us”.
In the moment of decision, abortion may be a
quick, easy solution for a man. He can then remove himself from the situation
and move on with his life. For one thing, his body isn’t affected in the same
way as a woman’s, so it may be easier for him to forget. For some men, walking
away and forgetting seems to work.
But, for countless others, it does not.
These men still taste the bitterness and pain of
their abortion. It’s always there. Without knowing it, this unspoken part of
their past creeps up on them through the way they behave or treat others.
Men have told me they never understood why they
were so angry, had trust issues, abused drugs or alcohol, or suffered from
depression. Some of these men have carried these issues for years, some
decades, until they come to understand these behaviors stemmed from their past
abortion experience. We must change the stigma of men when it comes to the
abortion issue. Men want to be heard. They need to be heard. They
deserved to be heard.
And, we can no longer forget these “forgotten
fathers”.
