When courageous women tell the hard truth about abortion, it changes hearts and saves lives.
Editor’s Note: We don’t know the woman behind this story, but we have no reason to question her account. We do know that her words echo those of countless women who live with the scars of abortion.
Abortion supporters routinely claim that storytelling will one day break the abortion “stigma.” The group #ShoutYourAbortion, along with America’s largest abortion provider, Planned Parenthood, urges women to share their positive abortion stories (with help, of course, from the media).
At the same time, women who are tormented by their abortions – and thousands of them exist – are censored.
But one woman is breaking that silence so “people can see the ugliness.” In response, other women are telling their stories to share abortion’s devastation, and, perhaps, save lives.
On Tuesday, a woman named Mel shared her heartbreaking abortion story on social media after one Twitter user dared her to “name one life ruined by abortion.” “You can’t,” he challenged her, “because electively aborted fetuses don’t have names.”
But she did exactly that – by pointing to herself as a person “ruined by abortion.”
“I’m going to do a personal rant today, that may shock … but I think it needs to be done,” Mel began. “I hope you read it in the spirit I write it.”
When she was 16-years-old, she visited a Planned Parenthood clinic with a friend to take a pregnancy test. When she discovered she was expecting, she insisted “I’m keeping it.” After all, she “loved the father.” They were like Romeo and Juliet, she remembers thinking.
After the nurse dismissed her because the clinic didn’t offer prenatal care, she turned to her 20-year-old boyfriend for support. “He screams in the phone ‘F—, get rid of it,’” she remembers. “Your parents already threatened me with statutory rape charges. This is proof.”
She was “stunned, but defiant.” She told herself, “This is my baby. I can do this. I’m already in love with it. I’ll find away [sic].”
But the turning point came when her parents turned their backs on her too. Her mother, also once a pregnant teen, and her father, worried about a “mixed baby” stuck in foster care, kicked her out of the house. “You keep the baby, you’re out of this house,” she recalled her mother saying. “In fact, get the f— out now.’
Even so, Mel repeated, “I already love the baby growing inside of me.” But because she felt like she had no other choice, she returned home and allowed her mother to schedule a hospital abortion.
At eight weeks pregnant, she stressed that the abortion left her “more violated than when I was raped 2 years earlier.” In the middle of it, she began sobbing “No,” while thinking “This vacuum Is killing. It’s sucking the life out of me. I’m killing my baby.”
Afterwards, the hospital nurse told her to “shut up.” But her aunt, who worked at the hospital, came and held her. “To this day, she’s the only liberal family member who is pro-life” Mel added. “I have always wondered if that was the moment for her.”
Now, each year on June 8th, her baby’s due date, she remembers. “One is dead. Because I was given a ‘choice,’” she concluded. “I love you little one, I always will.”
Twitter Users Respond with their Own Heartbreaking Abortion Stories
On social media, Mel’s story sparked an emotional response. Encouraged by her, other women began sharing their own tear-filled stories.
“Many people can’t believe that we still carry this pain and guilt, but it’s nice to know that I’m not alone,” one Twitter user wrote. “Hugs.”
“I too am missing a child. I was 16 as well,” another named Tracy shared. “My parents said they’d support whatever decision I made, but they were nudging me toward greatest regret of my life. If I could go back & change things, I’d do it.”
Another mother admitted, “27 years later, I still cry on October 4th. My choice was taken away.”
“I chose abortion at 18. Lived in blissful ignorance for 10 yrs,” one woman named Leah added. “The MOMENT I held my daughter in my arms, I finally understood ‘sanctity of life’. … The pain never goes away.”
Jennifer, another user on Twitter, remembered her mother’s abortion story. “I found her crying one day; she told me baby would’ve been due that day,” she recalled. “A girl, the sister I’d always wanted. We cried together.”
Men also chimed in.
“My (then) partner had one. I went along with her decision because I thought that’s what men were supposed to do,” a man named Brad said. “But it really f—ed me up.”
One user stressed, “I mourn with you and I mourn for my own child,” while another lamented that he was “robbed of fatherhood.”
“My wife has a story that relates. I remember the guilt being the most difficult part get free of,” another chimed in.
Even doctors entered the conversation.
“I was a 1st year OB/GYN resident assigned to assist with a 24 wk saline abortion. The baby, the size of a hand, was born alive,” one Twitter user testified. “She was placed in a steel kick bucket. We were forbidden to touch her. She gasped ineffectively for air for a min. or 2 before she died.”
“I told my program that they could expel me but I would not participate in abortions again and I never have,” she concluded. “That baby haunts me to this day.”
Full Transcript of Mel’s Story
The full transcript of her Twitter story is well worth reading [condensed into paragraphs and bolded for emphasis]:
My friend and I walk into the clinic. It looks like a regular clinic. The lady asks us at the desk what we want. Pregnancy tests, we both say at the same time. We both pay our $10, because PP is not cheap. Both of ours are positive. We both knew it. I know I’m about 3-4 weeks along.
My friend is crying. I’m not. I love the father. We’re like Romeo/Juliet. He’s 20 and I’m 16. My parents have kept us apart, now they can’t. The nurse asks me first what I plan to do. I puff out my chest and say ‘I’m keeping it.’ Do you have prenatal care. The nurse states no. Unless I want an abortion, they have no other services for me. She turns to my friend who’s still crying and says I want an abortion. The nurse says to me ‘there’s nothing else to be done, so you can leave.’ My friend allows me to stay. I sit for an 1 ½ hours [sic] while nurse spends 5 minutes going thru procedure and &rest trying to brainstorm w/my friend how she will $400
I rush home, I call the ‘man’ who loves me. I say ‘we’re pregnant.’ We can be together. He screams in the phone ‘F—, get rid of it.’ Your parents already threatened me with statutory rape charges. This is proof. ‘I don’t want it, and we’re done.’ I’m stunned, but defiant. This is my baby. I can do this. I’m already in love with it. I’ll find away.
I know that I need to tell my parents imm to get them on board to support me, so that night I sit them down. My father is oddly quiet. My mother is not. ‘I was pregnant at 15, I can’t have a 16 year old pregnant daughter. God, how could you embarrass me. ‘Mom no, I’m keeping it.’ My mother says ‘you’re an immature slut, you’re not even half as mature as I was at your age.’ My mom has a way of cutting me down to size, and she’s right. I’m immature. I thought he loved me, but I already love the baby growing inside of me. She/He is due June 8th.
Me: Then I’ll give the baby up for adoption. My liberal dad snorts snorts [sic] ‘nobody wants a mixed baby. Your baby will languish in foster care. Is that what you want?’ My mother screeches ‘You’re out. You keep the baby, you’re out of this house. In fact, get the f— out now.’ I leave the home in the dark and wander the street for hours. How the hell am I going to do this? I have no place to go. I’m sitting on a swing in the playground telling myself how stupid I am
I wander into the house around 2:00 a.m My mother is sitting up. ‘I guess because you’re back it means you’ll do what I say.’ My mother’s demeanor changes. She’s almost giddy. I feel physically ill. Oh honey, don’t worry. You won’t have to go to that nasty planned parenthood. We’ll get a doctor to do it at the hospital.
At about 5 weeks pregnant, I see a doctor. He’s cold. He doesn’t explain the procedure other than to say that my parents paid for me to be under twilight. I’ll still be aware, but I won’t care The procedure will be simple and quick, he assures me. They do an ultrasound to date the pregnancy, which is turned away from my face, and schedule my abortion for 3 weeks later.
3 weeks later I am prepped for surgery I am brought into a surgical room and given a pill. The pill makes everything hazy and unreal. My feet are in the stirrups and my mind is racing over all that’s happen. Then I hear it. It sounds like an evil vacuum. And I feel the pressure. My mind screams ‘NO’ and then I start to scream ‘No, No, No, No, No, No’ This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This vacuum Is killing. It’s sucking the life out of me. I’m killing my baby. ‘No’ I’m sobbing
The doctor tells me to quiet down, it will be over soon. I don’t. I can’t. I’m killing someone. Not anyone, but MINE Again, he assures me it will be over soon. Little did I know, the nightmare for me would never be over. The vacuum continues. I feel violated, more violated than when I was raped 2 years earlier. It’s finally over.
They wheel me out to the recovery room. I’m hysterically sobbing ‘my baby, my baby, my baby’ I know I’m loud A nurse comes in and get in my face. ‘shut up, she says; you’re disturbing the other patients.’ Apparently I don’t deserve the respect of a patient, and I agree. I’m scum. I’m a murderer.
They won’t let anybody back there, but my aunt who works at the hospital sneaks back. She sees my state and holds me while I cry. To this day, she’s the only liberal family member who is pro-life. I have always wondered if that was the moment for her. They let me get dressed, I’m bleeding and cramping and it’s horrible. They give me some meds. I go home and I’m still sobbing although hysteria has tempered. I wander into the house around 2:00 a.m. I lay down in the bed & let my mother hug me. The woman who gave me life, but wouldn’t let me.
You were just a kid people tell me. I wasn’t though, the moment I became pregnant, I was a mom. And mom’s protect their children no matter what. I failed. Every June 8th, [sic] I’m reminded. I was reminded every time I heard my kids heartbeat, or even their laughter, that one is missing. One is dead. Because I was given a ‘choice.’ I love you little one, I always will.