Letter #1 to my sibling...

Dear aborted sibling,

I’ve decided to begin writing letters to you. I believe that if you were given a chance to live, I would have you to lean on for love and comfort. I believe I would have had you to tell my desires, my hurts, and my frustrations when I could tell no one else. So I’ll tell you anyway even though you are no longer on this earth. First, I’ll give you a brief summary of where I am at in life right now.

I am a 25-year-old college student with the emotional stability of a young teenage girl who has just entered adolescence and puberty. It doesn’t make me happy to admit it, but it’s the truth. I’m like a broken wooden toy that tries to fix itself but becomes more broken in the process, eventually leading to severe damage that only an experienced Carpenter can fix. I have found that Carpenter, but because of my brokenness, I am unable to feel genuine love from Him or anyone else. I was never taught how to feel love or recognize it in its truest form. I am scared to let Him fix me because I know that pieces of myself will have to come apart for me to be put back together correctly. I am afraid of the pain that will come with taking me apart. I wish I could stop being so afraid.

There’s more I could mention about how I got to the disfigured state I’m in, but I’ll just leave it at that… I am broken and helpless. Everything in me aches. When I think back on my life, for some reason it is hard for me to recall the happier memories, although I do know there are many of them. But instead, my mind only wants to remember the pain, the fear, the anger, and all the disappointment that is scattered all over the path I have walked. Looking forward, I can make out some great things in the distance, but I often wonder if they are merely mirages… illusions of a bright future that will disappear as I move closer to them. Or worse… what if they are real, but after I’ve gotten a taste of the happiness they bring, a thief runs by and steals them from me?

My beloved sibling, I am stuck. I’m waist deep in mud, I’m dirty, worn, and cold. Right now I have no strength to get myself unstuck. I’ve called upon God to get me out of this mess, but there is so much dirt in my eyes that I can’t see if He’s coming to my rescue or not yet. There is dirt in my ears, so I cannot hear Him. My arms are held down, so I cannot feel Him. If He is near, I am having trouble sensing His presence. Part of me doesn’t care if I die here. If I do, He will come and carry my lifeless body to a place where I can find rest, love, and comfort. Sometimes this sounds better than continuing on the road I’m on, but I know that if it is His will that I keep going, I must do so with whatever life I have left.

I suppose that is all I have to say for now. I have no doubt that you are happy in heaven, and for that, I am glad. You wouldn’t want to be in this world, anyhow. It’s too dark and cruel. Take it from someone who has lived in it. Rest in peace, my sibling. If you will, please be at the gates waiting for me when I arrive someday. I can’t wait to hug you for the first time. I love you.

Yours truly,

Shay

The green in my eyes

I cried a lot tonight. And the tears keep coming. There is one interesting thing I just noticed when I looked in the mirror. When I have sobbed my heart out and my eyes are so red that a bull would charge at me if he saw my face, the green in the iris of my eyes really stands out clearly.

Lord, God, please show me some love tonight. I don't care how late I have to stay up to get it. I need to feel love. I do not feel it coming from anywhere else. All I feel from my surroundings is callousness, pity, and abandonment. I don't even feel love for myself. I feel nothing.

A unique form of trauma and grief

Coming to terms fully with the loss of my sibling (whom I strongly believe was a brother) and staring the reality of it in the face has only come about recently. As my followers may have read in another post, I have known for a long time about my mother's abortion. But my grief was delayed and I feel somewhat angry with myself for this. Even though I have experienced delayed grief over other losses in the past, never did it take almost 20 years to be able to shed more than just a tear or two occasionally over a death. So in addition to feeling sadness and depression, there are also feelings of guilt and shame, not just for continuing to exist while his existence was shattered, but for being void of any true feeling about his death for so long.

I have spoken to caring, well-meaning people about what I've felt over the past few weeks. I told them how it started with bitterness and anger towards those who I believed to be sell-outs to the pro-life cause (I feel bad for feeling those things as well, since I know my anger isn't truly directed at them) and ended with an honest evaluation of myself that led me to the conclusion that I was hurting, without even knowing it, over this injustice that happened 15 years prior to my birth. I was hurting and I'd kept that truth from myself for a long time, choosing to focus on other hurts that actually happened to me directly and have lived to see myself. 

I've gotten quite a variety of responses to the news of my new-found grief. One response was, in not so many words, "I understand your grief. It's okay to mourn. But the abortion was meant to happen due to circumstances at the time. The baby is in heaven. So don't worry and just be thankful that you were born." Others understood that the abortion that took place was wrong and should never have happened, understood my sadness, but I noticed hesitation in talking about the situation and eagerness to change the subject so that I would focus on other problems I have that are fixable. True, I have many problems that need to be addressed. I don't deny that. I know these people are trying to love me and look out for me and I appreciate their care and concern for me as a whole. But right now, my ability to focus on everything other than the abortion is damaged. It is there 24/7, whatever I do, wherever I go. It's not quite as easy to escape as some might think. Then of course, there was the relieving "you're not alone" response from someone who is also a post-abortive sibling. I felt the strong urge last night to reach out to her because I knew she would understand the most. 

This is truly one of those unique predicaments to be in where someone has to be caught in the same trap to be able to really relate. It is different from a parent's post-abortive grief, because it was not your own child that was aborted. For siblings, we may not have even been alive when the abortion happened. But we experience the tragedy of it in our own unique way. It is a specific brand of trauma. One might ask how this is trauma. "You weren't even born when it happened, so how did it traumatize you?". Think back to September 11, 2001. If you are American, you know what happened on that day. If you were alive and at an age of understanding at the time (in other words, if you are about 18 years or older) you probably remember. I'm not sure about people in other parts of the United States, but specifically those of us in and around the Tri-State area, we were traumatized by those terrorist attacks. Not all of us had family or friends who were in those towers, but just the thought of something like that happening so close to home was terrifying. For a while afterward, we would actually feel discomfort whenever we saw airplanes flying over our heads. We didn't want to be in crowded areas. We were scared.

No, there were no images of my mom's abortion. There was no live television broadcasts showing it happening. Thousands of people did not die when it took place (although I'm sure other babies were being aborted in other rooms of the facility my mom was taken to at the time). But I have seen pictures of aborted babies. I have seen videos of what happens during an abortion. After all, I've been in the pro-life movement for close to 4 years now. I know what an unborn baby looks like at 13 weeks (that was how far along my mom was when the abortion took place). There IS a person there. They have arms and legs, they have a heartbeat and brain waves. And according to this ultrasound picture, they also have the ability to cover their eyes in response to light at this period of gestation.

Yes, to imagine a tiny family member, who is obviously human, being torn to pieces and suctioned away like trash is traumatizing. I remember years ago having a dream about babies falling out of windows to their deaths and seeing them bleeding on the ground in pieces. This dream occurred way before I ever got involved in the pro-life movement. Could that dream have been symbolic of an event that affected my own life, even though I was yet to be born when it happened? This matter isn't a joke. This isn't an attempt to attract attention. This is real. And this is unlike any other trauma I've experienced in my life. So this is something quite new and scary to me. I'm sad, I'm angry, I'm terrified, I'm confused, I'm ashamed, and I'm alone... or at least it feels that way.

Why now?

I read an article today about the effects of abortion on subsequent children. It mentions how emotions influenced by tragic events, including abortion, can be inherited by children of post-abortive parents. I have no idea if this is true or not, since my mother's coerced abortion was never held secret from me... my mother told my sister and I about this when I was still a young child, but something about it does make sense. I've also inherited emotions about my grandfather's murder, which took place long before I was born, and oddly enough happened the exact same year my brother was aborted... merely months afterward. "My parents made me have my baby killed." I don't think I fully comprehended what she was saying at the time, though I knew what death and killing were. She didn't just mention it once, either. Occasionally over the years she'd talk briefly about it, but never in much depth. So I have known this fact for close to 20 years.

As I mentioned in my last post, I suffer from major depression and anxiety, among other things. A lot of this stems from abuse I endured as a child, witnessing domestic violence, and being rejected by friends, boys (both ones who dated me and ones I had just liked who pretended to feel the same way but did not) and family over and over again throughout the years. I don't easily trust people, I often withdraw from communication with people suddenly, sometimes but not always knowing the reason why. As much as I've been affected by the types of trauma I've encountered, I've always felt there was something else that happened that I couldn't remember. For years, I believed it was very likely to be sexual abuse of some kind that I experienced as a child and blocked out. Now, though, that theory is beginning to die out.

I've been active in the online pro-life movement for years now. I always knew that one reason was for my brother's sake, but it has always mostly been as a recognition that individuals whom God Himself created were being dehumanized and slaughtered on a daily basis and needed to be saved... much like how the Jews who endured the Holocaust were dehumanized and slaughtered, needing outsiders to speak up for them and come to their rescue. These were God's chosen people and the bible tells us that as we do to His chosen, so shall it be done to us. Professing Christians in their own community were not coming to their aid, even when they were in church and heard the screams from the trains passing by their churches on Sunday mornings. At a point where it was almost too late, other nations not involved in the atrocity FINALLY stepped in.

There are still "Christian" politicians today who claim we should have minded our own business and not interfered with what was going on in Europe during the Holocaust. But I wonder if they would have felt the same if they'd been reduced to a number in one of those concentration camps. The same ones believe that the states should be in charge of either banning abortion or keeping it legal. Leave it to the states. Let some states keep it legal and we'll focus on saving babies in the states that ban it. I get the idea that possibly, as some states ban it, that may influence others to follow suit. But in a society like the one we are in, with sin and selfishness everywhere, the demand for abortion is very unlikely to disappear. And there will always be people willing to seize that opportunity and perform them legally to reap the financial rewards. 

True, anything is possible with God, and He could change the hearts of everyone in the world on abortion. But as we see the signs of the times, realize, too, that the bible tells us sin is supposed to increase, not decrease. The enemy's time is running short, so God is allowing him to run rampant while he still can. And if the enemy is allowed prevent as many would-be followers of Christ as he can from entering the world, he will take the opportunity. We will not be able to fully stop abortion in any way. But at least by pushing for a federal ban on abortion, we can punish those who dare to perform them illegally. Leaving it to the states does not help. It did not help my sibling. Abortion was still not performed in Connecticut in 1974. So my mom was driven to New York for the abortion. What did the "leaving it to the states" approach do for my aborted sibling and is that truly how God wants us to handle the situation? Yet again, these same politicians are against the death penalty. I'm not exactly for it, but I'm not against it either. The man who murdered my grandfather is sitting in a jail cell for the rest of his life. He took the lives of others and continues to live his. I don't mind the fact that he didn't get the death penalty, but I do mind the fact that he didn't and my sibling did. That doesn't seem fair because one was innocent and the other was guilty. What hypocrites. And they say they are in favor of LIBERTY?! Without the right to life, all other rights are useless.

I've found myself increasingly bitter towards such people, I'm going to admit it straight up. I understand pro-choicers wanting to keep abortion legal, and I even choose to brush off pro-life seculars who don't want to overturn Roe v. Wade. The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. If they do not fear God, can I expect them to believe any different? They have no wisdom. But a pro-life Christian saying we should not overturn it? That makes me angry... very angry. I have trouble embracing such people. I can only see them as traitors. I pray hard each day that God will help me not to be so resentful towards them because I know these feelings are not an expression of Christ's love. I was forced to ask myself, "What on earth is wrong with me? Why can't I stop being angry about these people?". And beyond the anger, I found that at the root was sadness. A sadness that stretches so deep and pierces my heart to the very core. 

Sure, being a sibling survivor always bothered me, but never to the point of this magnitude of depression. Well, something has changed, and now it does. The hole is wider than it's ever been and stepping back to take a good look at its size has brought me to the reality that this hole is nothing simple than can be boarded up, painted over, and forgotten about. There is something, or rather someone, missing. Someone was taken from me. This is true with my grandfather as well, but in his case, justice was served and the criminal is behind bars now. The community recognized the murder as a tragedy and there was support for my family. But with my brother, the murderer was likely never prosecuted. That abortionist could still be alive out there somewhere, living his or her life as normal. That person was never legally charged or frowned upon for their crime. And half the people you can explain these feelings to will laugh and say, "You're crying over a clump of cells?!" 

Even pro-life "Christians" do not always understand it. To them, it's something you just have to "suck up" and leave in God's hands. That's easy to say when abortion has not affected you and your family. The post-abortive mothers are embraced, the fathers who had no say are embraced. But what about the siblings, the grandparents, the cousins, aunts and uncles? True, we were not directly involved. But we still mourn. But we are overlooked. We are forgotten. And all the while, our heats and souls cry for justice. I'm not saying I want abortionists to be executed. But at the very least, they should be serving heavy prison time.