By Glenys Robyn Hicks, Originally published here April 24, 2008
With a trembling hand, I raised the stick of the pregnancy test and read the results. Positive. A new life was growing in the young womb–a life that only I seemed to want. Seeing my eyes grow moist, she knew the result without being told. She hung her head in silence. Putting my arm around her, I asked simply, “What are you going to do?” I knew the answer already, but I prayed for a change of heart. She was going to abort the 10-week-old growing baby.
Recovering from her stunned silence, she declared her choice: a death sentence for my first great-grandchild! Grieving already, I asked her to reconsider; I would help her in any way that I could! However, she remained firm in her decision. I gently sat her down next to me on the computer and together we viewed pictures of fetuses at 10 weeks. I was greatly heartened to hear her responses of delight at the knowledge that her baby had toes and fingers and a beating heart. Perhaps my great-grandchild would get to be born after all!
These hopes were quickly dashed immediately after with her request that I ring an abortion clinic and take her there without her mother even knowing! I was appalled, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wanted no part in this termination. I told her I wanted her to have the babe.
Knowing her fear was in part having her father find out, I told her that her mother must be informed no matter what her decision. The abortion was duly carried out the day I had my angiogram for my heart, and I cried the whole day. I cried for my great-grandchild, my granddaughter, and for the little girl looking for love and finding it in all the wrong places. I cried for the baby being torn viciously from the warmth of its mother’s womb and for the pain it would endure. It didn’t make my heart procedure any easier.
I prayed as they entered my heart with the catheter and the pain of the inserted stents served to highlight the pain of my grief. I prayed for my granddaughter, the baby, and myself. For I knew my granddaughter would eventually have a change of heart and come to the realisation that she had murdered her baby She would have to live with that regret forever. Abortionists won’t tell you that your choices will usually haunt you.
She came to me a few weeks later, very depressed, telling me that she felt “weird.” Pregnant women made her cry, and she said she felt empty. I asked her if she had regrets; she said she did. And then to my sorrow she explained that she knew she couldn’t bring up a child by herself–babies were fine, but she couldn’t cope with a teenager. She had the abortion a day past her 15th birthday. As I hugged her, we cried together.
I used to have very vindictive feelings towards women who abort their babies. But I have come to realise that the abortion industry has fed women a bunch of lies. God has so placed maternal feelings in our hearts that to reject our own child will effect us, no matter how much we think otherwise at the time. For we know innately that we are the carriers of a potential baby and not a group of cells, and the pain of regret and grief will eventually catch up with us…something abortionists again won’t tell you.
They can streamline their procedure, making it as painless and inobstrusive in one’s life and even fit it into one’s schedule, but eventually it will catch up with us. If not in our youth, then in our menopausal years when life’s regrets and possibilities are so glaringly scrutinised and grieved over…something abortionists yet again won’t tell you.
And they won’t because they would be out of business, for they thrive on the tears of the unprepared pregnant woman, but never offering their “compassionate services” for nothing…something else abortionists won’t tell you. There is no compassion in abortion: just ask my grieving granddaughter.
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