By ERICA DAY
I was 29. My son was 1. I was single and sharing a house with my best friend.
I realized I hadn’t seen a period for a while. So I got a pregnancy test, and there it was: a positive result. I had been having a “friends with benefits” relationship for a while. It was not serious, and it was never going to be. I told him, and he was no comfort, no help.
A bad decision
So I decided to do what I said I was against. I decided to murder my child. Purely because that child would be inconvenient. I was already a single mother. This child would make my life more difficult. And how could I, a Christian woman, show up at church pregnant again? (This is not an indictment against my church at all.) Our small house was just big enough for the three of us. There was no room for this child.
So I made the appointment. Told the lies I needed to tell so that my parents would take my son for the day. My insurance covered it, so no worries about affording it.
Killing my child was going to be easy.
My memories of the clinic are hazy. All I remember is that I showed up and they said I needed to have an ultrasound, I guess to determine how far along I was. I remember the doctor coming in and the mere sight of that man should have caused me to jump out of the stirrups and run home. He looked like a drunk, missing teeth. The teeth he did have were yellow. He had a partially white, partially yellow beard that was not groomed at all.
He looked evil. His hands were ice cold. I remember the cold jelly he put on my belly for the ultrasound. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the image on the screen. I will never forget the words he said next.
“There’s nothing there.”
You read it right.
I was not pregnant. I was relieved! But in that moment, I realized that God was speaking to me. In that moment, He showed me grace and mercy, and He also was telling me to get my act together. To stop being a hearer of His word and not a doer.
To stop being a Cultural Christian.
I can’t tell you that I changed overnight and never did another thing wrong. I can’t say that I’ve been perfect.
What I can tell you is that because of God’s grace, in the middle of my sin, I loved him more. Became more grateful.
And I felt completely unworthy.
Haunted by bad intention
Even though I didn’t actually murder my child, I felt like I did, because that was my intention. I went home and slept for the rest of the day. I felt horrible inside. Guilty. Just as if I actually had killed my flesh and blood. To this day, I still sometimes feel it.
But this is what I know: God has forgiven me.
I confessed my sin and the Bible promises that if we confess our sins, God will cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
I know that God doesn’t remember it anymore. Even if I still do.
I also know that I’m not the only woman who has created this situation for herself, and while I didn’t actually kill my child, many women have. Some of whom may read this post.
I know how it feels to be in that situation.
Most of all, I know that just as God forgave me, He can and will forgive you too.
We sin. All of us do.
The power of repentance
If we truly repent and ask for forgiveness, God grants it.
It has taken me almost 15 years to tell this story. Most likely because I could not forgive myself. But now, I feel free. Because of God.
God gives grace. God gives mercy. God forgives.
If you’ve been holding on to guilt because of abortion, or any other thing: God will forgive you. Don’t hold on to it. Talk to Him. Admit it. Ask for forgiveness and turn away from that path. Believe me.
[Erica Day is a wife, mom and grandmother from Pittsburgh PA. She spends her free time reading, writing and taking care of her family. Thanks to Erica for permission to publish her essay.]