Category: Abortion

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Jeneft

I have a doll, her name is Jeneft… don’t ask…. I have no idea where I thought that name up from… I’m not even sure how to spell it!

Jeneft has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I was a little girl, she was the one I would cry myself to sleep with after a bad day, she was the first thing I packed in my doll’s pram the time I was going to run away from home… and she was my first life lesson in things that can’t be undone.

As a young girl, I aspired to be a hairdresser. Jeneft was my first ‘client’. Yes, I cut off all her hair. I tried to stick it back with sticky tape before woefully bringing her to my mum so she could fix it… because Mums fix everything, right? Wrong. Not even my mum could make Jenefts hair come back… it was gone… and she now had a very unattractive hair do.

And, just to rub salt into the wound, poor Jenefts feet were also unceremoniously chewed off by my Fox Terrier puppy.

Time went on and I lost track of Jeneft.  Although I never forgot her, for a while I did not know where she had ended up. It turned out my mum had kept her and knitted her a lovely bonnet and sewed some new feet and shoes to cover up her injuries. I still remember finding her in a box one day and the giggle it brought James as I loudly exclaimed her name… Jeneft!! He said in that moment I reminded him of an excited little girl.

We all have a ‘Jeneft moment’ in our lives… sometimes more than one. A time when we do something and as soon as it is done, we realise our mistake and try desperately to undo it. But unfortunately, some things just cannot be undone. Sometimes the consequences of our actions will stay with us forever… and we are left with scars, visible like my Jenefts, or invisible that only we know about.

And often our ‘Jeneft moments’ come at the hands of someone else. An action done not by us, but to us, that cannot be undone.

I have had many ‘Jeneft moments’ in my life but the defining one came in 1984. Regular readers of my blog will know the story but for the benefit of those who don’t… here it is, long story, short…. I fell pregnant to my boyfriend at the age of sixteen. To say his parents were displeased is the understatement of the century. They forced me in no uncertain terms to get rid of the problem that I had created. This ‘problem’ was my unborn and still developing baby, their grandchild. Call me naive but back then I had no idea about developmental stages in the womb. As with cutting Jeneft’s hair, I didn’t fully consider the consequences of having an abortion… I had no idea what an impact my actions would have. I honestly thought and was deceived into believing that as long as you aborted before the twelve-week point, no harm was done because ‘it’ hadn’t started forming yet. ‘It’ was still only just a clump of tissue. I think back on that now and cringe… how could I have been so ignorant? The tragedy in this is that I am more than likely not alone… and the bigger tragedy is that there are people in the abortion industry who still promote this theory.

Fast forward thirty-six years and rarely a day goes by for me without being reminded of that time. A social media post calling women who have abortions murderers, an article demonising those same women for making an impossible ‘choice’ or a modern day pharisee on their self-righteous high horse is usually enough for the feelings of anger to well up, even though I know I am fully forgiven, fully loved and fully whole in Jesus regardless of my past.

As with Jeneft, no one could put me back together after that experience. It was as if nobody wanted to talk about it as each person in the drama tried to figure out how to play their part, by either acknowledging it and dealing with it, or burying their heads in the sand and hoping it goes away, which has been my ex-boyfriend’s approach up until now. But the thing is, something like this can never go away – no matter how deep you try to bury it, it will inevitably find its way to the surface time and again until you deal with it. And I literally came face to face with that exact thing earlier this year. If you haven’t read about that encounter, you can read it here Little Girl Lost – Redeemed

What I learned from that encounter is that it is not my responsibility to put other people back together, nor is it theirs to put me back together. The past can only stay buried for so long until it comes back to bite you. And if you are not ready, it will not be a pleasant experience.

I found out recently through a mutual friend that my ex-boyfriend still holds his mother’s opinion that having an abortion was “the right thing to do”. I actually feel incredibly sorry for both of them that they hold that belief. Trying to deny that something happened is not going to change the fact that it did. And I have found that God has a way of undoing everything that we believe is secure in our thinking. Eventually He will unravel us until we have no choice but to confront our past. And that, my friend, is truly the “right thing to do” because then and only then can we find the freedom and healing that only He can bring.

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Little Girl Lost

As a grown woman, I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I could super-impose my older, wiser head onto the shoulders of the young girl and teenager I once was. Of course, that cannot happen, and if it did, I would not be writing this blog! But every now and then I just want to put my arms around her and reassure her that it is going to be alright. I want to tell her that she is loved and valued for who she is, not who she thinks others expect her to be. I want to tell her she turns out ok, despite everything she is going through.

Recently I faced a situation where a significant piece of my past literally turned up right in front of me. Through a bizarre connection, my ex-boyfriend the father of my aborted baby, and his mother the woman who insisted it happen, were both in the city where I live for an event that I was going to be at. Because of the bizarre connection, I was given warning they would be there but that did little to dispel my apprehension about seeing them after all these years.

In the week leading up to this event I went through the whole gamut of emotions. From feeling brave to feeling terrified. Feeling angry to feeling sad. Feeling defensive to feeling gracious. But my overwhelming feeling was protective…. Protective of my sixteen-year-old self. I just wanted to wrap her in my arms and say, “it’s ok girlfriend, we’ve got this”. The memories and feelings this pending confrontation evoked had me in a spin. My grown woman was ready, but my inner teenage girl was not even close to being ready to face the people who had caused her so much pain.

The day came and I prepared myself as best I could. My outfit, hair and attitude were all carefully put together to ensure I felt as confident as was possible under the circumstance I was in. I looked good, and I felt good. But inside I was as nervous as anything. It’s ok girlfriend, we’ve got this… it was the unmistakeable voice of the Holy Spirit. He was reassuring me that I was not alone, and I immediately felt at peace.

The event went off without incident and afterwards I got the feeling my ex-boyfriend wanted to speak to me. He was hovering, and it was weird. We have had no contact for thirty-six years. Obviously, he lost his nerve because he never said a word to me but a week later, he sent a text to a mutual friend asking them to apologise to me. For what?? That you forced me to kill our baby, or because you didn’t have the guts to speak to me? His mother on the other hand had once again made herself abundantly clear. It took every ounce of courage I had to look her squarely in the eye, only to have her turn on her heel and walk away without uttering a word. She didn’t have to. I knew where we stood.

But you know what? I faced my giants that day, and they were nowhere near as big as I thought they were. My little girl lost found herself that day and discovered she is brave, she is beautiful, and she is loved despite any lies the enemy tries to throw at her. This was a monumental moment in my life, and I came away from it feeling at least twenty kilograms lighter, such was the weight that had been lifted.

I have forgiven my ex-boyfriend and his mother. More than that, I feel compassion for them because they clearly have not acknowledged or dealt with the part they played in this chapter of my life, and in the ending of my baby’s life before it even began. That is still a process they must go through. I have forgiven myself and I know I am forgiven by God, and Jesus who is watching over my child until we meet in Heaven. Yes, I believe my baby went to Heaven and I will get to meet him one day.

I still cannot believe the circumstances that enabled this set of events to happen. If I told you the whole story you would not believe me, it is that incredible. Although, I will tell the whole story one day, but the final chapter is still to be written so it will have to wait.

One of the songs we sang in church that weekend was ‘Raise a Hallelujah’ by Bethel Music

“I raise a hallelujah, In the presence of my enemies; I raise a hallelujah, Louder than the unbelief. I raise a hallelujah, My weapon is a melody; I raise a hallelujah, Heaven comes to fight for me. I’m gonna sing in the middle of the storm. Louder and louder, you’re gonna hear my praises roar. Up from the ashes hope will arise; Death is defeated, the King is alive. I raise a hallelujah, With everything inside of me; I raise a hallelujah, I will watch the darkness flee. I raise a hallelujah, In the middle of the mystery; I raise a hallelujah, Fear, you lost your hold on me”

Thank you Jesus. I could not have said it better myself.

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My baby mattered too…

Warning: potentially controversial and upsetting post. No offence is intended.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month in many places across the World. My Facebook feed has been full of posts acknowledging and mourning with the mothers who have been through the awful experience of miscarriage, stillbirth or SIDS. Please hear me when I say I am in no way demeaning or minimising these tragic circumstances. I am absolutely not. I know the pain and the grief of losing a baby in utero and I know many women who have been through this heartbreaking experience. But I, along with countless other women must remain silent and unacknowledged in our grief and mourning, because our babies died through abortion. We don’t get to have a say because we made a choice to end our babies lives… Now I can’t speak for others who have been in this situation, but I think I know enough to safely hazard a guess that most women don’t make the choice to terminate a pregnancy lightly, or easily. I know, of course that there are exceptions to this, but in my opinion, they would be in the minority.

For those of you who are new, or unfamiliar with my story, here it is in a nutshell.

I was sixteen, fresh out of high school when I met the boy who I thought was going to be the love of my life. Six months into our relationship we discovered I was pregnant. While the news came as a shock to me, it never occurred to me or entered my mind that this baby would not grow to term and enter the world. It was an idea I simply had never even contemplated. But unfortunately, I was not supported in my resolve to give our baby life. My boyfriends mother demanded in no uncertain terms that I was to dispose of the problem I had created (her grandchild) and my boyfriend, for whatever his reasons failed to stand up for me, or the baby I was carrying. So, just weeks after my seventeenth birthday, and at twelve weeks pregnant, I found myself alone in a sterile room while the ‘doctor’ literally sucked the life I was carrying right out of my body.

Did I make that choice? Well, if you want to be pragmatic, yes. But, in reality, no. I guess it could be argued that I went into that room knowing what I was doing. But the truth is, in 1984 I had no idea what I was doing. I had been deceived into believing the lie that I was undergoing a simple medical procedure to remove tissue cells that had yet to form.

I’m not here to argue the pro-life vs pro-choice debate. Anyone who knows me already knows how I feel. But that is not the intent of this article. The point of this blog is to acknowledge the millions of babies whose lives were violently ended by mothers who like me, were young, insecure, uninformed and bullied into a decision they would live with for the rest of their lives.

Our babies mattered too.

If you have lost a baby through miscarriage, stillbirth or SIDS, my heart goes out to you and I mourn for you in your loss… I can only imagine the shock and heartbreak of unexpectedly losing your child. If you have lost a baby through abortion, I know exactly how you feel. I see you, I hear you and I grieve with you.

If you, or someone you know is carrying unresolved grief and shame from an abortion, please get in touch. You are not alone. God can and will forgive and heal you. And I know you can, and will forgive yourself. I will answer all messages, on any subject, in the strictest of confidence and compassion. But I will not tolerate name calling or judgement. We are here to lift each other up, not tear each other apart.

I will finish with one of my favourite scriptures:

When they continued to question Him, He straightened up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to cast a stone at her.” And again He bent down and wrote on the ground. When they heard this they began to go away one by one, beginning with the older ones, until only Jesus was left, with the woman standing there. Then Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?” “No one, Lord,” she answered. “Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Now go and sin no more.” John 8:7-11 

With much love,

Vikki

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This is me….

Some of you don’t know me… and many of you that do know me have never heard my story…. so…. here it is. Real, raw, vulnerable…. me.

I believe there is power in personal testimony. It is my desire to share my story to help others overcome their pasts and to bring comfort and hope to those who are hurting. The bible is clear on bringing comfort to those who need it. Ecclesiastes 4:1 Again I saw all the oppressions that are done under the sun. And behold, the tears of the oppressed, and they had no one to comfort them. 2 Corinthians 1:4 He comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.

I am living proof of the redemptive love of an unfailing God and I have an amazing message to share. My story is unique to me but I know there are countless women who can relate and have shared experiences. This is my purpose, this is my passion and I pray that my story does indeed bring hope and encouragement to those who are hurting and carrying burdens that need to be lifted.

Please click on the link to see a brief video version of my testimony.

https://redeemed.net.au/Vikki%201080P%2026%20Nov.mp4

I’d love to hear your feedback 🙂

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To choose, or not to choose…. That is the question….

One of the buzzwords around today is “choice”, particularly with regard to a woman’s body. Everywhere you look, it’s not hard to find a news article on this topic… and, of course you’ve figured out, I’m talking about abortion. Do I have an opinion on abortion? Yes, I do. Is it a strong opinion? Yes, it is…. But possibly not in the way you’d expect.

I believe that women who ‘choose’ to have an abortion are not making a choice at all… not really. They are being deceived into thinking they are only destroying a “clump of cells”. That It’s not really a baby. Now, I didn’t major in science at school, but last time I checked a clump of cells doesn’t have a heartbeat, or a brain, or arms, legs, fingers and toes. And, in case you’re wondering, a foetal heartbeat begins at 22 days after conception.

Both sides of this argument focus on the unborn and whether it is seen as a living human being, or an inanimate clump of cells. My belief is that it is the former. I am absolutely Pro-Life…. But (and here is my strong opinion for what it’s worth)… I believe we also need to focus more on the women who are actually dealing with these impossible decisions. I don’t believe as some do that most women use abortion as a form of birth control without a second thought. Of course there are exceptions to this, but the idea that a woman would do this coldly and without any hint of emotion or inner turmoil messes with my head. Having an abortion is not an easy thing to do. Being labelled a murderer is a bitter pill to swallow. And unless you have ever been in a situation that forces you to make this impossible and heart wrenching decision, I would say please keep your negative opinions and judgement to yourself. Women who have had abortions are already judging themselves… they don’t need others to jump on the bandwagon as well.

Let me tell you a young girl’s story… in her own words….

“A friend of mine from school introduced me to a boy from her church. I had been bought up in the Anglican Church so it was not a new concept to me but I had no real connection to either the church or God and it was not something that was high on my list of priorities. We began dating and he was my first ‘real’ boyfriend. I thought I was falling in love. I had it all planned, right down to the white picket fence and 2.5 children.

After a while, one thing led to another and we started having sex. I gave him my virginity. The thought of using any sort of contraception never entered our minds. So, of course the inevitable happened, I fell pregnant. Although, for as long as I could remember, all I had ever wanted to do was get married and have children so when I found myself pregnant at the age of sixteen, it didn’t concern me and in fact I was secretly rather pleased and excited. I obviously had no idea about what it would take to raise a child.

Because we were both from ‘Christian’ church going families, our parents were, as far as I know, unaware that we were even having sex so telling them we were pregnant proved to be a very difficult circumstance, more so for my boyfriend than me.  My parents, after they got over the initial shock and disappointment, were very supportive and we began making plans for my pregnancy and the birth of my baby. In fact, my mum had already guessed I was pregnant because I was so sick. I didn’t just have morning sickness; I had all day sickness!

His parents on the other hand were horrified. They were upstanding members of the community, his father was a local business owner and they were very involved members of their church. An unplanned pregnancy out of wedlock just didn’t fit into their plans. Their reputation would have been ruined.

I can still remember them sitting in my parent’s living room, at the meeting that had been called to discuss ‘the situation’, telling me that they didn’t want me to have this baby. Their reputation was more important to them than the life of my unborn child, even though this child would have also been their grandchild. So, I made the most difficult decision of my life. I gave them what they wanted. I agreed to terminate my pregnancy. My plans for the white picket fence and 2.5 children had been replaced by plans to abort my baby.

I remember that day so clearly, it was like I was on auto pilot. It was easier that way because it meant I didn’t have to deal with my emotions. I was just doing what I had been told to do. At the time I felt like all control of the situation had been taken away from me… I still remember the sterile room. It is a memory that will stay with me forever.  The nurse who was there with me was doing her best to make small talk. I had my feet up in stirrups. The machine they used was like a vacuum cleaner, it was attached to a jar by the side of the bed. I was able to see and hear everything as they sucked my baby from inside of me.

I had been twelve weeks pregnant; then I wasn’t.  Just like that, in a very cold and clinical room. It was over.

With the exception of one solitary tear that rolled down my cheek, I didn’t cry… I couldn’t cry…  I didn’t even understand what I’d done. It was November 1984 and I had just turned seventeen. I felt like I was suffocating, surrounded in a room full of people; and yet I had never felt so alone…”

This testimony is an excerpt from the book I am writing and yes, you guessed it… That young girl wasn’t an anonymous story I happened to find. That young girl was me. I may have just lost a few followers with this confession, and that’s ok. This is not about me…. it was never about me. This is about God’s grace and abounding love and redemption. And that is why I have such a strong opinion on supporting women who have had abortions, or who are even contemplating having one. I honestly believe that if women were better informed and educated about the process of abortion, and the development of a foetus, the abortion rate would drop dramatically. ( If I had known then what I know now, there is no way I would have ever gone through with it). But, as it is, they go through life with their silent, unspoken grief, unable to express how they feel because of the guilt and shame that they carry… And, the guilt and shame that society puts on them. But I say we need to follow the example set by Jesus in John 8:7: “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”

Choosing to have an abortion is a deeply personal and life altering decision usually made at a time of intense emotional turmoil. No one has the right to make you feel guilty for something they cannot and will not understand. Women who have had abortions don’t need the pro-choicers deceiving them into thinking “my body – my choice” or the modern day religious Pharisees calling them murderers without any trace of grace or compassion. What they need is an encounter with the living God. To know they are loved and more importantly, that they are forgiven.

If you know of anyone who can relate to my testimony, please show her this…. She needs to know that she is loved, that she is forgiven and that God has a plan and purpose for her future despite, and maybe because of, everything she’s been through. 2 Corinthians 1:4 He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.

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