Unending Pain and Loss

You may wonder why I write this after so many years.  Well, it's hard and I'll do my best to convey what horrors abortion puts a woman through. Especially when it was done against her will and any future family was lost on that day.

Mother's forced action on murdering my child is just too hateful to wrap my head around.  This is the same mother that when I was just 15, I was given the choice of having knee surgery or not.  Mother said the decision was up to me and she would stand by whatever I decided.

But, two years later, in a much more important decision, she decided I would have no say in the decision to murder my child.  My child was ripped from me, with no consideration of my feelings.  I was able to save my knee from surgery, but I couldn't save my child from murder.

Anyway, back to the effects of having your child ripped from your body and sucked in to a container that would become medical waste certified with an 'induced death' certificate.  That's the truth.  The Left Wing whack jobs say a fetus is not a baby, but yet NY law required a death certificate for induced death.  Hmmm, that proves the baby was, indeed, alive.

So, back to today.  Why do I still have trouble with such an old decision?  It's simple.  I relive it every day.  I am dead serious.  Every single day of my life I relive this horror. Sometimes more than once a day. Yes, PTSD is real and having my child murdered was enough to push me over the edge.  It never leaves me and as I get older the effects of that day are getting stronger. I can be reduced to tears, in mere seconds, because of my memories.

Because of this horror, I am alone.  I have no one in my life that is part of a family that I should have been able to make.  Even now, I cry for my loss and my child's loss at not even being given a chance at life.

Being alone and knowing that I have no one to be with me as I grow old is frightening and it just makes dealing with my loss even harder.

I have lost everything that ever could have meant something in life.  I had a life ahead of me.  This horror affected me so deeply and permanently that I lost my life, that day.  I died with my child.

I cannot stress enough how much damage this horror does to a woman.  They may never admit it.  I hid it for years and years. I suffered in silence, but the suffering continued to grow and grow.  My family can do nothing for me because, in the words of my mother, I'm just being ridiculous and to get over it.  I cannot and will not surround myself with people who think murder is OK.

I am damaged goods and will die an empty shell of what should have been a life with my child and family.  But, it's not.  I will die alone.  There is no one in my life that I can be close to.  I am unable to share love with anyone.  I just can't.

Like I've said before, The day my child was ripped from me, I died with him.  Yes, I knew the sex. The 'Doctor' told me it was a boy.  My dead son is with me daily.  I cry for him and I cry for myself.