Adam and I are usually quite private about our political beliefs. We believe that everyone deserves a right to vote for whatever candidate they feel is worthy, and that is what is so beautiful about our country. I did, however, wake up with something weighing heavy on my heart.
Many years ago I stood in my freshman dorm room staring at a stick with a plus sign on it. My heart sank and panic ripped through my body. I remember thinking, This is a nightmare! My Catholic upbringing was screaming CHOOSE LIFE!, but my head, that knew my situation, was yelling HAVE AN ABORTION!
I was a smart young girl, attending a great college. I had a wonderful scholarship, and was getting good grades. I was going to make something of myself, and my family couldn't be prouder. The other side of my situation, I was in a relationship I had no business being in, and that's all I'm going to say about it.
I thought long and hard about my choices, but in the end, God's Spirit spoke louder and I had the ability to choose life. I wish I could say that everything worked out and life was peachy, but that isn't what happened. Actually, it was quite the opposite. In choosing life, I also chose to see the disappointment in my family's eyes, to feel the judgement of society who looked down on me for being pregnant with no wedding ring on my finger, to be the living stereotype of being "the head cheerleader who graduated and got knocked up and made nothing of herself", and got to hear from many, many people how sad it was that I threw my life away. No, things did not go well at all.
Sure, it may be sad to some who think I've thrown my life away. But in actuality, I now believe to give up one's life for another is one of the greatest privileges you can experience. The past 14 years of my life may have been harder than I ever could have imagined. And my choice has led to much heartbreak and hardships that at times were, in fact, life threatening, but never once, NOT ONCE, did I wish that my son wasn't here. And if given the choice, I would suffer it all over again. I may not have become the person I had planned on being, but I feel like the whole experience has helped me grow into a better person, the person I was meant to be.
Please know that I am not judging anyone who has had an abortion. That is never my place. I am just trying to tell my own story. I look at my tall, gangly 13 year old son, who is a beautiful light to this world, and I am terrified to think that I had the power to extinguish that light. Now that he's here, and I hear his hopes and dreams, I realize how scary it is that I thought my own dreams for my life were more important than his actual chance at living.
So, today I am voting for the little ones who currently don't have a voice, because I'm hoping someday, along with my own son's voice, theirs will also be heard.
Showing posts with label pro-life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pro-life. Show all posts
November 6, 2012
October 17, 2009
My Ultimate Cross
I’m going to let you all in on a little secret. You may wonder why my oldest son Marky doesn’t have a name that begins with the letter “J”. The truth is I had him when I was 19 and he belongs to a guy I met in college. I only dated his father for a little over a month before becoming pregnant.
Lesson 24: getting pregnant to someone you barely know = white trash
What could be more shameful than that? Can she top it? Yes, she can! Another fact I hate to admit is that I also don’t have custody of him.
Lesson 25: a mother not having custody of her child = white trash
Now I know what you all must be thinking. You’re thinking I have to be some sort of crack head or prostitute because those are the only reasons a mother loses her child, but let me tell you, I know of some people who were drug addicts and prostitutes and they seemed to have had better luck than me.
I don’t remember much from my first mediating session. I do remember my mom telling me that morning, on the phone, to be sure to take a car seat because Marky would most likely be coming home with me. Surely no one would take a baby from their mother. WRONG!
I had no idea what I was in for. I was 20 years old, for crying out loud, why would I have any idea what it was like to fight for custody? I had recently gotten out of a relationship that was toxic to everyone involved. I was entirely too young and my mental and emotional state were too battered to be prepared for what I had to endure.
I don’t remember anything other than his dad telling me I was a bad mother and then hearing I no longer had custody of Marky. I’ve blocked the rest from my memory. It was the most painful thing I have ever been through. I blocked it the same way I blocked my motorcycle accident in 5th grade, which resulted in a concussion.
The next couple of years I fell into a deep depression, leading to mental regression and a drinking problem. My mom so lovingly calls this time and the year or so prior, “the dark ages”. I couldn’t see past the pain and embarrassment. I had given up on everything.
How did I recover? It took my grandfather to flat out tell me “Oh Jessie, get over it.” It was like being doused in cold water. I realized I was only a victim because I allowed myself to be. I had two options, to learn and become stronger or let it destroy me completely, and it had destroyed me long enough.
This was around the same time Adam and I got back together, and the pieces of broken life started to fall into place. I was able to obtain more visitation rights, which was wonderful. After I stopped blocking the pain and had come out of my nightmarish dream state, my lawyer explained that I could have had custody, but I signed my rights away. He said that he told me these things at the mediating session, but I seriously don’t recall anything like that. I really wish I had someone there for support who could have explained things in a manner my 20 year old emotionally drained brain would have understood, but there is nothing I can do about it now.
With God’s help, I have been able to heal and accept my path. I have learned so much from this experience, and have ultimately become a stronger person. It may not have turned out the way I would have liked, but it ended up the way it was supposed to. I may not know all of God’s reasons, but he does grant me little insights that humble me and make me say, “Oh, I see.”
One time I had a friend, who is very actively pro-choice, say to me in a snide manner, “Oh you’re pro-life aren’t you?”
I smiled and said, “Yes.”
For some reason she felt she had to plead her case. I don’t even know why this topic came up. “Well, you don’t know what it’s like for these women to be pregnant in a bad situation.”
(A lot of my friends forget about Marky because he’s not always around.)
I looked her in the eye and said, “Yes, I do.” Then I sat back in my chair and said, “Let’s talk about something else.”
This definitely hasn’t been easy, and I may only sleep well when Marky is peacefully perched in his top bunk in the room he shares with his only brothers, but I’m going to remain thankful that despite all the hardships I chose life.
Lesson 24: getting pregnant to someone you barely know = white trash
What could be more shameful than that? Can she top it? Yes, she can! Another fact I hate to admit is that I also don’t have custody of him.
Lesson 25: a mother not having custody of her child = white trash
Now I know what you all must be thinking. You’re thinking I have to be some sort of crack head or prostitute because those are the only reasons a mother loses her child, but let me tell you, I know of some people who were drug addicts and prostitutes and they seemed to have had better luck than me.
I don’t remember much from my first mediating session. I do remember my mom telling me that morning, on the phone, to be sure to take a car seat because Marky would most likely be coming home with me. Surely no one would take a baby from their mother. WRONG!
I had no idea what I was in for. I was 20 years old, for crying out loud, why would I have any idea what it was like to fight for custody? I had recently gotten out of a relationship that was toxic to everyone involved. I was entirely too young and my mental and emotional state were too battered to be prepared for what I had to endure.
I don’t remember anything other than his dad telling me I was a bad mother and then hearing I no longer had custody of Marky. I’ve blocked the rest from my memory. It was the most painful thing I have ever been through. I blocked it the same way I blocked my motorcycle accident in 5th grade, which resulted in a concussion.
The next couple of years I fell into a deep depression, leading to mental regression and a drinking problem. My mom so lovingly calls this time and the year or so prior, “the dark ages”. I couldn’t see past the pain and embarrassment. I had given up on everything.
How did I recover? It took my grandfather to flat out tell me “Oh Jessie, get over it.” It was like being doused in cold water. I realized I was only a victim because I allowed myself to be. I had two options, to learn and become stronger or let it destroy me completely, and it had destroyed me long enough.
This was around the same time Adam and I got back together, and the pieces of broken life started to fall into place. I was able to obtain more visitation rights, which was wonderful. After I stopped blocking the pain and had come out of my nightmarish dream state, my lawyer explained that I could have had custody, but I signed my rights away. He said that he told me these things at the mediating session, but I seriously don’t recall anything like that. I really wish I had someone there for support who could have explained things in a manner my 20 year old emotionally drained brain would have understood, but there is nothing I can do about it now.
With God’s help, I have been able to heal and accept my path. I have learned so much from this experience, and have ultimately become a stronger person. It may not have turned out the way I would have liked, but it ended up the way it was supposed to. I may not know all of God’s reasons, but he does grant me little insights that humble me and make me say, “Oh, I see.”
One time I had a friend, who is very actively pro-choice, say to me in a snide manner, “Oh you’re pro-life aren’t you?”
I smiled and said, “Yes.”
For some reason she felt she had to plead her case. I don’t even know why this topic came up. “Well, you don’t know what it’s like for these women to be pregnant in a bad situation.”
(A lot of my friends forget about Marky because he’s not always around.)
I looked her in the eye and said, “Yes, I do.” Then I sat back in my chair and said, “Let’s talk about something else.”
This definitely hasn’t been easy, and I may only sleep well when Marky is peacefully perched in his top bunk in the room he shares with his only brothers, but I’m going to remain thankful that despite all the hardships I chose life.
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