A Letter From the Mother of an Unborn Child

I AM 37 years old, married, with three beautiful children. Sixteen years ago I was positioned on a kitchen table while life was taken away from a person no one will ever know.

That person had only existed three and a half months. I guess the only friend that person had was Jehovah God. (Psalm 139:13-16) It seemed no one else wanted it.

At that time, 16 years ago, I was a college student, working part-time and living on my own in a large city on the West Coast. I had the dream of “being somebody” among all the “beautiful people.”

I had great plans for my future. A child just did not fit into my life-style. The father of the child suggested an abortion, and neither of us talked about any alternative. I refused to think about what we were actually taking​—the life of a living soul. Not once did I consider what God thought of it.​—Exodus 21:22, 23; Romans 14:12.

Of course, abortion at that time was not “legalized.” The father of the child heard about some doctor that was moonlighting doing abortions.

So there I was in my boyfriend’s apartment letting this man take away the “inconvenience” that had entered my life. I refused to deal with the reality of the situation and was, therefore, able to cope quite well mentally. Physically, all did not go so well. I ended up with an internal infection that in three days left me delirious with fever. After seeking real medical attention, I recovered unscathed.

Or so I thought. Who knows what hardening my heart enough to commit that terrible crime did to my personality?

I haven’t shared this morbid part of my past with my husband. (It was many years afterward that we met.) I don’t know if it would serve any purpose to tell him. At the time of my learning the truth (over ten years ago) I sought Jehovah’s forgiveness for all the sins I had practiced, including taking the life of my unborn child. I trust that He has extended His mercy through Jesus’ sacrifice to cover over my sins. Since my life has been cleaned up by applying what I’ve learned from His Word the Bible, I do not make a practice of flagrant sin. But I may never be able to forgive myself.​—1 John 1:7.

If I had killed my own child when he or she was a few months old, 6 years old, 20 years old, he or she would at least have the hope of a resurrection in God’s new system. (Luke 23:43; Revelation 20:12, 13) But this baby was never born, never breathed a first breath. I stole that life and any possibility of that life existing again. There is no undoing what has been done.

The older I get, the more often this memory haunts me. All these years I never let myself think about it. Whenever the memory came to mind I just didn’t let myself continue thinking about it. I mentally “changed the subject” immediately. I can’t do that anymore. It is truly a torturous heartache living with this ever-present guilt. That baby never had a chance to be loved by anyone. Maybe there is even one baby out there that will.

That is why I am writing all these things that have been kept inside for years. If someone who is contemplating abortion happens to read this letter, perhaps she will change her mind and let that life continue living. Let that child have the chance to live and be loved. There are thousands of people who would love to adopt a child. Besides that, later, when it finally hits your heart and conscience, you won’t have to be facing the fact that you murdered your own child. You may not feel the guilt now; but you will some day. And it never goes away!​—Isaiah 1:18; 55:6, 7.

With deep regret,

The Mother of the Unborn Child