Trying to Survive by Judith Evans

My childhood was brutal. I was abandoned by my father when I was two-and-a-half. Then when he reappeared in my life again at the age of eight, it became worse. I survived incest, starvation, and beatings. 
I clung to life. It was my two abortions that nearly destroyed me. 

When I became pregnant for the fifth time in seven years, my doctor asked me if I really thought I should “continue the pregnancy.” Abortion had never occurred to me until he suggested it. 

My husband said, “It’s your decision. Do what you want,” and left for work. Naively, I began looking for women who had had abortions. But I couldn’t find anyone who would admit to having had one. I asked my doctor and he said, “It only takes a few minutes and it’s over.” 

Having already had four babies, I am now appalled at how ignorant I was about fetal development. My doctor said the baby–at six-and-a-half weeks–was “just a blob,” and I believed him. Afterwards, before I even got home, I began to cry. It didn’t help. 

When finally I stopped crying on the outside, I kept crying on the inside. I felt so dirty and alone. Something deep inside of me froze, I think. I dreamed a lot about snow and ice, as well as about babies. I felt cheated, betrayed, and manipulated. 

I went to counseling and the psychologist said, “forgive yourself,” and “let yourself go on.” She didn’t say how. 

Two years later, I had another abortion as an act of self-punishment. I wanted to die, or at least go crazy so I could escape the torment, the nightmares about babies, the self-disgust and the degradation I felt.

Read the entire story at Elliot Institute’s Website