Tuesday, May 29, 2012

A True Friend

     Watching our sons play in the backyard I stood talking with a good friend from church.  Our boys were born the very same day -- November 26th.  At two and a half the boys were as different as night and day.  Alison's son was short in stature and physically coordinated.  Jeremy was taller, but less coordinated.  And try as hard as he could, Matthew just couldn't seem to get Jeremy to play with him.  Instead Jeremy ran around the yard waving broken branches he'd picked up from the ground which was typical behavior for him. 

     With a slight pause, Alison gently asked me,  "Kathy, have you ever thought of autism when you watch Jeremy play?"   Inside my mind screamed, "Yes", but to Alison I said,  "No.  My doctor says Jeremy is just fine and that he's just a late bloomer."  The awkwardness descended and I left soon thereafter.  And I hardly talked to my friend, Alison, for another two years. 

     It wasn't that I didn't like Alison.  Actually, I liked her alot.  But she knew my secret -- a secret that I hadn't been able to accept myself -- that Jeremy just might have a very real problem.  And I couldn't face the thought that someone else might guess my terrible fear.  So I put Alison on a shelf and left her there for quite some time.

     A couple of years later we did have Jeremy tested.  And sure enough, he was diagnosed with autism.  This was in the early 90's when not that many children were being diagnosed with autism so I don't fault my pediatrician -- too much.  But when Jeremy was finally diagnosed I remembered back into my past of all those times when others after Alison had tried to talk with me, including God.

     Later, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, my friend Alison called to ask if she could come by.  Although I felt sheepish for ignoring Alison the past couple of years, I also knew that Alison cared about me.  So we made plans for a short visit.  On the day of our scheduled visit, I'd received phone calls from several doctors urging me to start chemotherapy due to the aggressive nature of my cancer.  No one was at home with me that day and I started to panic.  Alison called earlier than expected, listened, then said she was on her way over right then and there.  What a blessing it was to have Alison with me on the very day when I needed someone to cry with.  We prayed and cried together, and I was able to say that I was sorry for leaving our friendship behind.  Without batting an eye my friend said,  "That's okay.  I understood.  And you're still my good friend =)"

     God provided me with this one friend who wasn't afraid to come forward with the truth -- in love and gentleness.  She was willing to sacrifice our friendship knowing that someone needed to speak the truth to me in love.  And God used Alison to minister to me in a very profound way =)  To this day I consider Alison one of my very good friends.  I know that she will be straightforward with me -- and gentle when needed.  My only hope is that I can be that sort of friend to my friends. 

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Abortion Recovery

    "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight."  -- Proverbs 3: 5-6  

          The year was 1986.  Much had changed since 1976.  Vices like drinking and smoking had given way to studying and serious living.  I was in my senior year of college (second time around) about to finish with a nursing degree.  Somehow I managed to finish undergraduate school with social work and sociology degrees -- and was now finishing a degree in nursing.  For the first time in a long time I felt relaxed and more at peace with myself and even excited for my new career as a nurse. 

Then I met the man who would help to heal my wounded heart.

     Rick and I were instantly attracted to one another and married one year later.  He was someone who knew my past and loved me anyway.  We lived an exciting life together those first couple of years.  Then along came Megan, our firstborn daughter, and a trip to Hawaii with my family that ultimately changed both our lives.  Because Rick credited God with saving his life from a dangerous rip-tide, we headed back to church.  Neither of us had been seriously involved in church for many years, but Rick wanted to dedicate his life to God in gratitude for saving his life.  (See 'Lost At Sea" blog for details.) 

      As a wife and mother, I can now see that I worked hard to earn God's love and a place in heaven someday.  I was a mother of two children less than five years of age, one of whom was showing signs of developmental delay. And seemingly overnight, I morphed into a helicopter mother -- hovering nearby in a desperate to prevent bad things from happening to those I loved. I strove to be the perfect mother.  It was a terrible stress to my body and mind. 

     If anyone asked about my thoughts on abortion, I said that I was pro-choice.  And there I remained for several years -- while attending church, teaching Sunday school and participating in bible studies.  Remember, I'd pushed the memories from the abortion into the deepest recesses of my mind. And, I needed to justify my decision to have the abortion.

     Then came Jeremy's diagnosis of autism along with my diagnosis of breast cancer later that same year.  God now had my complete attention and I was powerless to do much besides fight the cancer with surgery and chemotherapy.  I could no longer trust in just myself.  I trusted my doctors to help pick the right treatments, but soon knew that I needed to trust God even more.  

Six months later I finished surgery and chemotherapy -- and found myself dealing with life issues once again.  With a fresh perspective on life I began to think deeply about myself and my past.  No longer content to just do, I began to focus on who I was and why I was still here on this earth.  I'd heard about a bible study for women who'd had abortions. Maybe I should register for this study.

     I finally went through the eight-week study with four other women about a year after finishing treatment for cancer.  I learned about myself and discovered truths I'd not known.  For the first time I began to realize that I had never really forgiven myself.  For so many years I'd squelched all those feelings and memories of the abortion down to the very depths of my being.  I vaguely remembered shutting out the memories the very night of my abortion because they were just too painful to deal with.  But now those memories and feelings were surfacing -- like a teapot bubbles to the boiling point when the heat is turned up.  For years my grief had simmered deep inside, but now rose to the surface.  My grief needed to be examined and explored.  My recovery was slow, but steady, from then on.

     I wish I could tell you that I had it altogether.  It's been many years since I finished that bible study and I am still 'unfinished business'.  I liken our growth and healing to that of peeling an onion.  It seems like God peels one layer at a time.  Each peel is painful, but necessary for growth. 

     There are several resources available to those who have experienced abortion in some fashion.  And there are symptoms of post-abortion that are common to many.  Everyone's journey is very different so it's not fair to expect another who's dealt with an abortion to have the same walk.  We are varied and diverse.  Below I have listed some of the best resources for those wanting or needing to heal and recover. Here are some of the best resources:    
   
     Advice & Aid Pregnancy Center - http://www.adviceandaid.com/ 
     Ramah International - http://www.ramahinternational.org/
     Forgiven and Set Free - A Post-Abortion Bible Study For Women
     Healing A Father's Heart - A Post-Abortion Bible Study For Men
     Rachel's House - A Pregnancy Resource Center - http://www.rachelhouse.com/

     

        
    

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Sixteen & Unexpectedly Pregnant (cont.)

      "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels or demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."  Romans 8:38-39

     There were several of us sitting in recliner chairs that cold winter morning in February 1975.  All around I heard murmurs from others in various stages of recovery from their abortions.  Beside me sat a young 20-something woman.  "First time?" she asks,  "Don't worry.  It gets easier with each one."  I know that she's talking about abortion even though she doesn't actually say the word.  Close by another young girl is sniffling quietly. 
  
    "Whatever have I done?" I ask myself.  For the first time in my life I feel completely alone and empty inside.  No longer do I have the joy of a living being inside my tummy.  The thought crosses my mind,  then, "I've made a terrible mistake" -- one that will have long-term consequences for me, I think.  I grown inwardly and turn onto my side.  (Away from God?) I hurt physically and mentally.

     Within the hours I am dressed and driving home with my mother in silence.

     All day I rest in my bedroom with the shades drawn and door shut. I just want to be left alone.  Music is softly playing from my stereo system. Silent tears fall onto my pillow.  My younger sister checks in on me.  She doesn't understand.  Judy only knows that I've had some sort of procedure and am very sad.  Soon, though, I resolve to move along with my life.  As quickly as turning off water from a faucet, my heart shuts out the pain.  

     No one talks to me about the abortion on this day -- or in the days that followed.  We all carry on as if nothing unusual has happened.  My parents sent me to see a counselor.  Jerri was youthful, energic and, anorexic.  She was helpful, and, more importantly, affirmed my choice to abort.

     That night I call the love of my life, the guy who had professed undying love for me and had stood by and silently encouraged my abortion. My boyfriend has gone on a date.   "How could he do this to me!" I fume.  "After all I've gone through for him!"   Crushed, alone, and feeling utterly despondent, I weep bitter tears -- not only for the loss of my baby, but for the loss of life I'd known before my pregnancy.  Nothing was the same -- nor would it ever be.

     Our relationship struggles for the next several months.  We argue, break-up and then reunite every couple of weeks.  I begin to diet in an effort to lose the 'baby weight', convinced I am "fat".  I lose more than 20 pounds before the end of our junior year in high school.  This is the first clue that I am feeling out of control.

     By the end the schoolyear I felt betrayed, used and utterly worthless.  Something in my heart clicked.  No more, I think to myself.  I vowed that no one would ever have the chance to hurt me like this ever again.  My hardened heart grew bitter as I began to plan for the final break-up.

     School ended and so did my relationship.  And, that's when my life began to spin out-of-control.  Drinking helps to dull my anxieties and feelings of self-worthlessness.  Smoking cigarettes helped me control my weight. I didn't feel pretty anymore.  The difference in my sophomore and junior school photographs tell the story.  My eyes look sad.

     Our senior year is a blur.  I graduate and plan to attend KU that fall.  And when I reach the campus, my life really begins to crumble and fall apart.  I found myself spiraling into an eating disorder.  My life was completely out-of-control.  I ran away to California for three days only to return defeated.

 My heart felt wounded and battered.  My belief in God was still there, but I no longer pray to Him for support.  I reasoned that my abortion and subsequent rebellion had set me apart.  There was now a rift between God and me that could never be reconciled -- or so I thought.