I grew up in a kind of Christianity that believed in purity culture. My parents weren’t raised with this, weren’t a part of the children’s ministry, and didn’t know what to look for. I assumed it was the norm and didn’t know to ask about it. I was taught if I had sex outside of marriage, I’d be damaged for my future spouse and they’d have to be willing to accept a “previously opened present.” Pastors would have us pass a wrapped gift around the room, or a rose, and then show us the damaged gift or petalless flower and ask if that’s truly what we wanted to bring to our marriage.
This meant years later, when my birth control failed and the doctor told me I was pregnant, I felt like I had nowhere to turn. I couldn’t tell anybody I had sex, how was I supposed to reach out with an unplanned pregnancy?
My abortion experience was traumatic, but not because I chose to have an abortion.
In a time of isolation, I felt immense relief from the clinic staff who aided me in my decision. They walked me through every option (medical abortion, surgical abortion, open adoption, closed adoption, raising a child) and did what they could to counter the negative messaging I had grown up with.
If the clinic staff were so loving, what made my experience traumatic?
- The protestors that screamed hate and jumped in front of the car as I sought answers
- My partner and friends not being able to support me
- Taking the pills alone, pretending I had the flu, so nobody would talk to me
- The church services where they preached hate from the pulpit about the “monsters” who have abortions
- The friend who told me I had committed “one of the worst sins”
- The inescapable, inaccurate anti-choice billboards with babies talking about their fingerprints and heartbeats
- The manipulative crisis pregnancy center
- The anti-choice protestors who showed up with inaccurate depictions of abortions as they followed us around a five mile turkey trot (#commitment, #traumatic)
- The hate from those who tell me I should be in prison or have the death penalty
- Those who prioritize “what could have been” over what I needed
- The Christians who loved me as the anti-trafficking girl but couldn’t hear about my other identities
- Those who told me not to advocate for reproductive justice
- There being no space to validate my experience and emotions
The voices of post-abortive people are spoken over and twisted to fit the binary of right and wrong. There is no space for the complexities of our individual stories or understanding why we had an abortion. Instead, we walk through a world that demonizes us and forces those with unplanned pregnancies to feel isolated as they decide what to do.
Normalize abortion.
The reasons for abortion are vast, and post-abortive people are all around you. ¼ women have an abortion before the age of 45, and the numbers are just as high in the Church. You know someone who’s had an abortion because you know me (and I’m not the only one).
Some see abortion as murder and condemned by God/in the Bible. In both Judaism and Islam abortion is permitted. The Evangelical church didn’t take a stance on abortion, viewing it as “a Catholic issue” until the late ‘70s (and primarily to combat desegregation). Numbers 5:11-31 can be interpreted as an abortion ritual and this overview shares a Christian perspective on life beginning at first breath.
If you are anti-abortion: I ask you to spend more time listening to the full spectrum of experiences of post-abortive folks.
If you are pro-choice: Reflect on how you’ve internalized anti-abortion rhetoric. How can you protect abortion access? If Roe v. Wade is overturned, abortion could be illegal in Wisconsin, potentially as early as this summer. It could also set a precedent for overturning other rights relating to individual autonomy – such as access to contraception and gay marriage. In a society that wants us to feel monstrous, how are you showing us that we are not?
Before you judge me, or condemn anybody in my life, know you do not know my story. I’m not here to share my “why” or what I would have needed to make a different choice. My goal is to take up the space I’ve been silenced into believing I don’t deserve. My goal is to show other post-abortive people — especially Christians who’ve had abortions — that they are not alone. And, to remind those who are anti-choice that those perspectives are harming people they love.
**This blog is a space for everybody to learn, but not for harmful responses. For this post, comments will be turned off. For future posts, anti-abortion and anti-queer comments will be deleted and commenters may be blocked.
Donate: National Network of Abortion Funds
Act: Find local escort trainings and protests to attend