Hard-Hearted Culture Has No Abortion Regrets

News: Commentary
by Kristine Christlieb  •  ChurchMilitant.com  •  January 23, 2020   

But I regret mine

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Last week, news outlets around the world reported that "one of the largest studies about women's emotions after an abortion" suggested that most women had no regrets about their decision.

By the grace of God, I find myself among the women who do have regrets.

Given the hard-heartedness of our culture, it makes sense that some women do not regret their decision to abort their children. It's as if our culture has become a giant re-education death camp that has schooled women to believe that having children is burdensome and inferior to the rewards of a career. They are in denial of how they are being propagandized. It is not unlike the Muslim apologists who defend the black, head-to-toe, eye-screened burka, saying it is a good thing because it "protects" women. American women have simply drunk a different flavor of the same Kool-aid.

The film Unplanned unmasked the grim reality of abortion. Here is my version of Unplanned.

The Emotional Experience of Abortion, Kansas City, Circa 1976

When I think of March 20, 1976, it's hard to know what to call it. Is it the day I was saved from group of cells rapidly multiplying like cancer in my uterus? Is it the day I consciously made the decision to put my own child to death? Is it my child's deathday? As you can see, there really isn't a pleasant way — emotionally or linguistically — to talk about abortion.

Honestly, I didn't really want to have an abortion. But that's not what I told my partner. In his defense, I took the "it's my body" position and announced that I was pregnant and having an abortion. He was not to interfere. It was a peremptory strike. We had been living together for about 13 months, and the relationship had reached a crossroads. I was pretty sure he did not want to make the relationship permanent. So instead of having him suggest an abortion, I pretended I was making the decision.

After all, I was the woman with two bumper stickers on her Toyota Celica: "Motherhood is optional" and "Sexism is a social disease." I'd sent out Christmas cards that cleverly celebrated the season: "And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, 'Merry Christmas to all and to all Equal Rights!'"

What I really wanted was for my partner to lift me off my feet and tell me how happy he was, what wonderful news that we were having a baby!

Cue the music — "Danny's Song." Remember? "Now I see a family where there once was none/ Now we've just begun/ Yeah, gonna fly to the sun/ Even though we ain't got money/ I'm so in love with you, honey ... "

Unfortunately for me, "Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover" hit the Top 40 on Feb. 7, 1976, and that was the song that became the soundtrack for that period in my life. Women who choose abortion to save a relationship are mistaken. About 60 days after my abortion, my partner and I broke up, and that's typically what happens.

16-week unborn baby

Before my partner and I left for the abortion procedure, I took our new puppy outside to use the bathroom. She was a beautiful German Shepherd mix we named Sasha. It was the first day of spring and the weather was beautiful. I didn't bother to put a leash on her. We were just running out for a second. But she got away from me, ran into the street, was hit by a taxi and died right in front of me. I can't remember what we did with her body.

When I entered the abortion facility, it became quickly apparent that no one there was my friend. You were required to pay in cash at the door. It had the same feel as a drug deal.

No one asked me, "Now, Kristine, we just want to make sure this is what you want to do." On the contrary — during the pre-abortion group counseling, when I started making noises that I might want to change my mind, the "counselor" shut down that line of thinking. I can't remember precisely what she said, but I do remember feeling pressured and intimidated. I was 22 at the time and more easily pushed around than I am now.

The Physical Experience of Abortion Circa 1976

This is the most alarming part. Prior to the abortion procedure, I never met the doctor. No physician, no nurse ever examined me. I was never told the physician's name. He entered the room masked. He never spoke to me.

A few days after the procedure, a foul odor came from my uterus. It lasted for quite a while. In retrospect, I believe the doctor failed to fully remove my infant's body. The odor was probably decaying human tissue left behind that ultimately cleared during my next menstrual cycle.

By the grace of God, I find myself among the women who do have regrets.

Given the medical conditions I've just described, one would think there would be more personal injury claims against abortionists. But there are few such claims, primarily because the injuries aren't serious enough for plaintiffs' lawyers to take notice.

Why women tolerate these conditions is remarkable.

Post Script

Last year, on my Facebook page, I wrote a version of this piece. I posted it near the anniversary of my baby's death, near Passover when the plague of the first-born was being celebrated and when Unplanned was in theaters.

Two of my "friends" responded. They were women I've known since high school. Both are pro-abortion; one is an activist.

Friend #1 assured me that abortion facilities are much better now. Who is she kidding? I'm pretty certain she's never set foot in an abortion facility much less had an abortion. These people are not unlike holocaust deniers.

Friend #2, the activist, asked why I was so "haunted" by my experience from all those years ago.

I'm not haunted. I'm angry. The women's movement promised equal pay, affordable child care, paid maternity leave and freedom from sexual harassment. Women may have achieved pay equity, but what happened to affordable child care, etc? Oh, never mind that. We can have no-strings-attached sex and as many abortions as we see fit.

Amerian poet, Robert Bly, at the height of the Vietnam War, wrote a poem about the conflict's body counts that used to be broadcast daily on the evening news. The poem's words are fittingly applied to the Culture of Death that is abortion. If only we could abort the 1970s and all its horrors.

"Counting Small-Boned Bodies"
by Robert Bly, from The Light Around the Body

Let's count the bodies over again.
If we could only make the bodies smaller,
The size of skulls,
We could make a whole plain white with skulls in the moonlight!
If we could only make the bodies smaller,
Maybe we could get
A whole year's kill in front of us on a desk!
If we could only make the bodies smaller,
We could fit
A body into a finger-ring, for a keepsake forever.

--- Campaign 30192 ---


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