The Choice
I was a 17 year old junior in high school. I was a popular guy, a starter on the football and baseball team, dating a freshman in college. We were the perfect couple. She was getting good grades and fitting into the University of Miami Ohio nicely, and my grades were on the rise as well. Our families got along; in fact they always made me feel quite welcome. We enjoyed her visits back home from college a lot. We would hang out with her parents, go to dinner, see movies and spend a lot of time together. As you can imagine, our reunions were much like other long distance relationships. And one night when her parents had left for the evening, we engaged in an act that would change the course of our (my) entire lives. What we did, two teenage kids, was engage in something that God intended for married adults. We thought we were adults, I know I did.
Until one night when she had been at school for approximately 6 weeks after our reunion and she called me on the phone. Except this time when I answered the phone “hello” I could hear her crying in the background. I said, “Julie what’s wrong?” She proceeded to tell me that she had missed her period and that she had taken a home pregnancy test. Julie was pregnant. My life that seemed to be on “cruise control” was a wreck in a 5 minute phone call. I felt like my childhood, the one I had worked so hard to move past as fast as I could make it happen, was gone without any chance of getting it back, ever again.
This Christian kid, raised with a very clear faith in God, was about to embark on the most selfish feeling he had ever felt, and maybe he would EVER deal with. Until the moment she told me she was pregnant, I was pro-life. Not a staunch defender of the pro-life movement, but a believer in it none the less. “How dare someone take the life of the unborn?” But the words “I’m pregnant” had a way of removing that belief that I had held on to in one fail swoop. In fact, at that moment I didn’t even remember feeling like some kind of defender of the unborn. It was instantly all about how quickly we could get rid of this problem and who would pay for it while keeping this issue quiet and telling no one!
Until one night when she had been at school for approximately 6 weeks after our reunion and she called me on the phone. Except this time when I answered the phone “hello” I could hear her crying in the background. I said, “Julie what’s wrong?” She proceeded to tell me that she had missed her period and that she had taken a home pregnancy test. Julie was pregnant. My life that seemed to be on “cruise control” was a wreck in a 5 minute phone call. I felt like my childhood, the one I had worked so hard to move past as fast as I could make it happen, was gone without any chance of getting it back, ever again.
This Christian kid, raised with a very clear faith in God, was about to embark on the most selfish feeling he had ever felt, and maybe he would EVER deal with. Until the moment she told me she was pregnant, I was pro-life. Not a staunch defender of the pro-life movement, but a believer in it none the less. “How dare someone take the life of the unborn?” But the words “I’m pregnant” had a way of removing that belief that I had held on to in one fail swoop. In fact, at that moment I didn’t even remember feeling like some kind of defender of the unborn. It was instantly all about how quickly we could get rid of this problem and who would pay for it while keeping this issue quiet and telling no one!
...
Julie continued to call me from school, usually in tears. “What are we going to do”, she would plead? I would always respond with, “what do you mean what are we gonna do, we are gonna get an abortion and move on with our lives.” I left NO room to discuss other possibilities. This hopeless sweet girl needed me to help her through this, and I was unavailable. As this was being discussed on an ongoing basis I started drowning myself in booze. Getting drunk on the weekends, and then adding the weekdays too. I told one or two of my friends what was going on, and they helped me with my need to drown my sorrows.
In doing some research about where abortions were performed, I finally came across the Akron Women’s Clinic. My ‘prayers’ were answered. Finally, I found the place that could remove my 'inconvenient problem'. We made an appointment and she secretly came home from school for the weekend. I somehow scrounged up some money and we got a hotel room for her to stay in and had just enough money for the procedure – I believe it was $235.00 for the abortion. I picked her up from the bus stop in Akron and we proceeded to the hotel. We sat in the room not talking at all, but literally crying for hours. I went home for the evening, feeling like we hadn’t discussed a thing except when I would be back to pick her up in the morning. When I did return to get her in the morning, we had no feelings of emotion - that is at least how it seemed. We got in the car like robots and went to the clinic. I remember opening her car door for her as if I was being a gentleman. She checked in at the front desk and we were set to get this over with, finally. When we sat down, she asked me to leave. It was clear that she did not need my one-track mind around for this appointment, so I left. Even though I was leaving her there by herself, I would be returning to NO MORE problem.
When I came back to pick her up and walked into the clinic I found her curled up into a little ball as she was the only one left in the waiting room. I asked her “are you ok”, which was code for “is it over and done with?” She told me “they couldn’t do the procedure. I got so upset on the table, when they gave me the anesthesia, my heart rate dropped so low that I passed out. They were afraid my heart was going to stop. I’m sorry.” We then returned to the hotel room to discuss what we were going to do. She finally blurted out that she needed to tell her family. I was horrified at this idea at first, but realized that this person that I had once told “I love you” almost died on the clinic’s operating table. And I knew that she did need to tell her parents, we both did. We drove to her parent’s house and we told them what happened. They were of course upset, but her dad embraced me and said “all kids seem to do this; you simply were one of the couples that got caught.” Then he hugged me and told me everything would be ok. I proceeded to go home by myself and told my parents. The reaction was not quite as subdued as it was at Julie’s parents. Not that I could blame them, but it was hard to see such an opposite reaction to the news. My relationship with my parents changed forever that evening.
She eventually made the decision to move forward with the abortion. Her mom and dad took her to a hospital up in Cleveland, and the procedure was done. Little did I know at the time that the “issue” was not over with. It was just getting started, and for the next few years I was unable to cope in my own prison that I had built for myself. I felt as though the only penance I could pay for this issue would have to come from my own guilt. I knew that God and his son Jesus wanted to forgive me, but I didn’t want their forgiveness. The idea itself made me sick to my stomach. Drunken days and nights were all that I cared about; I just wanted to be numb. Julie and my relationship eventually ended. It was a long drawn out breakup. In my mind I wanted to stay with her as part of my repayment for how poorly I treated her. But I believe she saw through that and it made her even sadder. In the end I felt like I had destroyed this girls’ life because I wanted to be a ‘grown up’ so badly, but I was unwilling to take responsibility for my own actions. There were no options, there was only one decision I would allow her to make. I wanted to simply hit the reset button that was ABORTION and be left alone. Nowhere in my heart, mind, or soul did I want to take responsibility for my own actions. I just wanted to hit reset and start over. As if that would be possible, how naïve I was then.
In doing some research about where abortions were performed, I finally came across the Akron Women’s Clinic. My ‘prayers’ were answered. Finally, I found the place that could remove my 'inconvenient problem'. We made an appointment and she secretly came home from school for the weekend. I somehow scrounged up some money and we got a hotel room for her to stay in and had just enough money for the procedure – I believe it was $235.00 for the abortion. I picked her up from the bus stop in Akron and we proceeded to the hotel. We sat in the room not talking at all, but literally crying for hours. I went home for the evening, feeling like we hadn’t discussed a thing except when I would be back to pick her up in the morning. When I did return to get her in the morning, we had no feelings of emotion - that is at least how it seemed. We got in the car like robots and went to the clinic. I remember opening her car door for her as if I was being a gentleman. She checked in at the front desk and we were set to get this over with, finally. When we sat down, she asked me to leave. It was clear that she did not need my one-track mind around for this appointment, so I left. Even though I was leaving her there by herself, I would be returning to NO MORE problem.
When I came back to pick her up and walked into the clinic I found her curled up into a little ball as she was the only one left in the waiting room. I asked her “are you ok”, which was code for “is it over and done with?” She told me “they couldn’t do the procedure. I got so upset on the table, when they gave me the anesthesia, my heart rate dropped so low that I passed out. They were afraid my heart was going to stop. I’m sorry.” We then returned to the hotel room to discuss what we were going to do. She finally blurted out that she needed to tell her family. I was horrified at this idea at first, but realized that this person that I had once told “I love you” almost died on the clinic’s operating table. And I knew that she did need to tell her parents, we both did. We drove to her parent’s house and we told them what happened. They were of course upset, but her dad embraced me and said “all kids seem to do this; you simply were one of the couples that got caught.” Then he hugged me and told me everything would be ok. I proceeded to go home by myself and told my parents. The reaction was not quite as subdued as it was at Julie’s parents. Not that I could blame them, but it was hard to see such an opposite reaction to the news. My relationship with my parents changed forever that evening.
She eventually made the decision to move forward with the abortion. Her mom and dad took her to a hospital up in Cleveland, and the procedure was done. Little did I know at the time that the “issue” was not over with. It was just getting started, and for the next few years I was unable to cope in my own prison that I had built for myself. I felt as though the only penance I could pay for this issue would have to come from my own guilt. I knew that God and his son Jesus wanted to forgive me, but I didn’t want their forgiveness. The idea itself made me sick to my stomach. Drunken days and nights were all that I cared about; I just wanted to be numb. Julie and my relationship eventually ended. It was a long drawn out breakup. In my mind I wanted to stay with her as part of my repayment for how poorly I treated her. But I believe she saw through that and it made her even sadder. In the end I felt like I had destroyed this girls’ life because I wanted to be a ‘grown up’ so badly, but I was unwilling to take responsibility for my own actions. There were no options, there was only one decision I would allow her to make. I wanted to simply hit the reset button that was ABORTION and be left alone. Nowhere in my heart, mind, or soul did I want to take responsibility for my own actions. I just wanted to hit reset and start over. As if that would be possible, how naïve I was then.
...
I am now 41 years old and am happily married to a wonderful woman and have 3 kids. There are times I find myself looking at them and realize I am blessed beyond measure. I am grateful to God for giving me another chance at being a father. I have made many mistakes since my teenage years, even some regarding promiscuity, alcohol and drugs, and simply having sin in my life. Most of those additional mistakes were made trying to find comfort in some strange way, of course none of those worked. But now I go through life knowing that those mistakes of the past are forgiven, and God is asking me to help others realize that even through terrible decisions, people can still be worthy of God’s love and still be able to have a new beginning. Truly in my heart, I believe I have been forgiven. But at times I still think to myself “I wonder what kind of lasting effect I had on Julie, her life, relationships with men, decisions to not have kids”, etc. All of our actions have consequences, all of them. Some of those are good, and some are not. Till the day I die, I will forever regret my decision to abort a life. Abortion did not help me move on; the decision proved I was not able to handle the “CHOICE” I made to have sex with my girlfriend. No amount of “numbing” helped me forgive myself or helped me forget that I did this. The remembering is hard, but that is the consequence of my actions.
-Chris
Have a question for Chris? Contact him by clicking here.
-Chris
Have a question for Chris? Contact him by clicking here.
