By Dave Andrusko
Earlier this week, we posted a story written by abortion survivor Melissa Ohden. The headline is a beautiful summary: “Camaraderie, mutual love and connection found at the first-of-its-kind abortion survivors retreat.”
It is my personal opinion that their voices, heretofore largely muted and ignored and/or disbelieved by the “mainstream media,” will eventually play a pivotal role in overturning Roe v. Wade.
Melissa’s story reminded me of something that appeared at Clinic Quotes. This is Sarah Terzo’s indispensable site where she offers quotes from abortionists, women who’ve aborted their babies, and also commentary that illustrates the schizophrenia that is inherent when a baby is worthy of protection because she is “wanted,” disposable like refuse if she is not. We repost something from her site virtually every day, as we did today.
A while back we reposted this from Clinic Quotes: “Mom, why didn’t you kill me, too, asks 3 year old sister of aborted sibling,” that originally appeared at Teenbreaks.com. It read
When I was 3 years old I saw my mom on TV. She was speaking to a man about how she killed her baby and regretted it. As she told her story and how she became a pro-life speaker, I watched and listened. My grandma didn’t think I was old enough to understand.
“When my mom picked me up that night I asked her why she killed my brother or sister and why she didn’t kill me. My mom said she was in shock that her 3-year-old would ask these questions. She answered them the best she could for me, and as I got older I learned more.”
As Sarah explained, “This is the testimony of Alex. She and her mom are now pro-life speakers. Even at three, Alex knew she’d lost a brother or sister. Children pick up on things adults say, even things about abortion.”
Alex’s testimony at the Teenbreaks site was under “Abortion Survivors.” Here is the preface:
Put yourself in their places. What is it like to know that your own parent attempted to kill you before you were born? Or, why was your brother or sister aborted and you were not? These are the terrible issues which abortion survivors have faced and dealt with. There are many abortion survivors. Here is a sampling of their stories:
There were two other examples that were deeply unsettling:
I was 12 years old when I found out my aunt had tried to abort my cousin, Sean, who is now 5 years old. I was devastated, but the news I heard next was even worse. I learned she had already aborted three previous children who would have been my beautiful cousins.
The only reason she did not abort Sean was because every time she went to the doctor for a pregnancy test, it did not show that she was pregnant. By the time she found out she really was pregnant, our state would not allow for the abortion, and she decided she didn’t want to travel to another state for the abortion.
I stand against abortion. Knowing that three of my cousins were aborted and Sean was almost aborted hurts me deeply. So, girls, know that when you abort, it affects everyone, not just you and your child.
Two: Sarah S.
My mother’s choice was my death sentence. My mother, Betty, had an abortion… A few weeks after that she was sitting at home reading when the book on her stomach began to bounce up and down. That’s when she knew she was still pregnant… with ME!
“I’m so sorry, Betty,” the doctor told her when she went back to him, “You were carrying twins.”
Although a second abortion was suggested, my mother refused and instead brought me to term. I was born with bilateral congenital dislocated hips, a condition for which I’ve had dozens of operations. It hasn’t stopped me from pursuing my medical studies, though, or from speaking out whenever I can for the right to life.
I have forgiven my parents for trying to abort me, and I forgive the abortionist who killed my twin brother and who almost killed me. I often think of my brother, Andrew James, whom nobody can replace.
As I struggled with how to end this post, I realized the answer was already there–the conclusion to Alex’s testimony:
I thank God I’m alive. I’m still sad to know I have an older brother or sister who was denied the chance to LIVE – something we all take for granted. I hope someday we will meet. That’s why I do what I do.