Please excuse me if my thoughts and ramblings seem a big morbid at times....but the stress and guilt that I dealt with, after having an abortion, were rather morbid.......my life will never be the same......but I've learned to take something bad and try to use it for the good of the Lord......I can never undo what I did, but I can try to get the message out there on Sarah's behalf.......this message is written as though from her own thoughts and feelings. Please, allow yourself to think as though you were the child, so that you can understand the depths of this horrible act that we simply call a medical procedure now.......also, please know that this was written to the leader of our country, trying to get some attention......due to the wording, which has been changed a little, it was never mailed for fear of problems it could cause......Also, it was written about 11 years ago, when there was different leadership .......my abortion was one of the first, some 25 years ago this month...........in His love, bev
Dear Sir,
I am not one to be feared, although I'm sure this letter would gain more attention if I claimed to be one. I'm not even sure it will go across your desk. I have to try though.
You see, Sir, I am an aborted baby. My mother signed her name to my death warrant. She wanted me; but her family just could not be shamed by her or me.
My pain was short-lived, Sir. I was nice and snug there in my mother's womb, completely oblivious to what was going on around me. I knew my mother was sad all the time. but
I
would change that! Everybody loves babies! Today seemed so different somehow. My grandma and big brother took Mommy somewhere. It was a cold place. The people there took Mommy in a room in the back of the building. I could tell she was frightened. They made her lay on a table in a cold, white room. She lay there crying as she watched a tiny littly spider on the ceiling. I wanted to comfort my mother. Please, don't be so sad Mommy....Then there was these people talking, coming in the room. Mommy was
really
tensing up! And then an awful noise, like something being rolled across the floor. The people talked like doctors and nurses, but Mommy wasn't sick, just sad. Then they started up some kind of noisy machine. It's almost unbearable to tell you what happened next. The pain was excruciating! Something was wrong!
MOMMY! MOMMY! HELP ME!! THEY'RE HURTING ME!!
I cried and screamed for them to stop. They wouldn't. They literally pulled my arm off and my insides were torn out of me. My other little arm was broken and both legs were torn into tiny bits! My little tiny perfectly formed ears were still intact to what was left of my head. By this time, I felt no more pain except what was causing my heart to break. You see, my mommy was lying there watching me being suctioned into a great big bottle. That's all she ever got to see of me.
She has no grave to visit. She cannot even grieve openly. She's had to carry not only the grief of losing her own child, but the guilt for causing the death. No one explained to her all the pain this would cause.
Sir, I would be 14 next August, if I had lived. That's a long time for Mommy to suffer. You see, she still has that empty place in her heart for me. But she's lucky. She got to see me in a dream. I was a beautiful little doll to her, with my chubby cheeks and little golden curls bouncing. Mommy says I would have been a "chocoholic". I watch over Mommy now. She thinks of me often----as she watches other girls my age. She hurts soo much.
You know, Sir, you're a good man. I'm so glad your mommy didn't abort you. And I guess it's really a good thing that Virgin Mary didn't abort Christ. Where would we be now?
God bless you, Sir.
Love------
Sarah
P.S. Jesus sends His love too!
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