Abortion attempt survivor. Voice for the voiceless.

I was completely caught off guard when surfing the Internet tonight. I was on the Pro-Life Radio site and the headline about George Tiller’s murder flashed across the home page.

It’s interesting, I have such incredibly mixed feelings about this. I strangely feel saddened by his death. I guess that’s the true pro-lifer in me. Although I obviously disagree with the decisions that Mr. Tiller made in his life and the things that he did, I don’t believe that any human being deserves to be gunned down and murdered.

I haven’t thought about the abortionist who performed my biological mother’s abortion for a long time, and Mr. Tiller’s death has me thinking about that doctor tonight. I wonder if that abortionist knew right away that I had lived, or if others stepped in to save me? I wonder if my survival had any impact, if any, on their decision to continue to perform abortions? I wonder, if they are still alive today, if they’ve seen any of my information and have any inkling that I am the child that they failed to kill?

When I was younger, I used to envision that the abortionist had a change of heart at the last minute, saw that I was alive, and was part of the group of people that saved my life. As I have gotten older, this little fantasy of mine seems incredibly far-fetched, but I guess I will never truly know about how the abortion came about and the abortionist who carried it out.

What I do know, in my heart, is that no matter what that abortionist did or did not do for me that fateful day in 1977, I forgive them for what they did; it is not my place to be their judge and jury and I will leave that in the hands of God. And what I also know is that despite their attempt to end my life, that abortionist, just like George Tiller, would not deserve to be gunned down and murdered. Although I can certainly understand the passion that drives some people to take things into their own hands, and end the destruction that someone is causing, it is so contradictory as a pro-lifer to take that offending person’s life. And unfortunately, it is such instances as George Tiller’s murder that often reflect poorly on the pro-life movement. Instead of focusing on the facts of abortion and the important testimonies of those that have been harmed by it, such as myself, pro-lifers often all get labeled as domestic terrorists, anti-choice misfits, and the like.

May Mr. Tiller rest in peace, although his name will live on in infamy, and may the pro-life movement not have its’ eye blackened by his murder.

This morning, Olivia and I participated in a Walk for Life for the Alpha Center in Sioux City.  I hope to get a couple of pictures from it to post here (I still need to try out the new services available).  It was a gorgeous day, and Olivia and I both enjoyed our two-mile walk down by the river, and the chance to see old friends and support a great cause.

The theme for the walk was “Love Never Fails.”  What a wonderful theme for today’s walk, and I couldn’t agree more! That’s what my life has truly been about—love and the power that unconditional love truly has.  God loved me and that’s how I survived that abortion attempt.  The nurses and doctors at the hospitals where I was treated after the abortion attempt loved me enough to provide me the life saving care I needed, nurture and nurse me back to health, and even name me so that I wasn’t just some nameless child.  My adoptive parents loved me despite the poor prognosis I was given for health and life.

I think many people are stunned to learn that I was able to come home to my adoptive parents two months after my survival of the abortion attempt.  But that’s the power of love-the love of God, the doctors and nurses and my adoptive parents—they sustained me and healed me from the sickness I suffered as a premature infant.  Likewise, I think that many people are surprised when they meet me and they discover that I am a normal, happy, healthy, successful adult.  I have suffered no physical, emotional, or mental disabilities, I have a Master’s degree, and from what people tell me, I am a talented writer and speaker.  That’s the power of love there, too.  My adoptive parents and their families, my friends, my community and school growing up, my employers, my church, all of those people have loved me at my best of times and worst of times, and supported me through my long search of finding my biological family and learning about myself.

I can’t help but think about my Olivia when I think about the power of love, of course.  I always thought that I knew what love was, but I didn’t fully understand the depths of that love until I had her.  The love that a mother has for her child is the deepest, most soulful love that must be out there in the world.  Every time I look at her, no matter what she is doing (naughty or not), it just hits me deep within my soul about how much I love her.   I love her for who she is and what she will become, and it’s my love for her that motivates me to continue to share my story with the world, to hopefully make it a better place for her.  I may not be the perfect mother, but I know that no matter what mistakes I make with raising Olivia, all will be well, because my love for her will make up for it.

Love never fails, and I am living proof of this.  Thank you to all of those people who have touched my life in one way or another and loved me!

My apologies for saying that I had catching up to do and then not doing it. Of course, now that just leaves me with even more catching up to do! I don’t know where time has gone this past year, although I am sure that everyone else can relate. Our little Olivia already turned one this past April 26th. Unbelievable! She has grown up so fast, and is truly the most amazing little person that I have ever met. I can’t wait to see what she’s going to learn and do and say next! She is walking (more like running), climbing whatever she can get her hands on, chatters away and says more words each day, and has become even more strong willed and determined (boy, are we going to have our hands fulls when she gets older)!

Thankfully, I survived a potential lay-off from work this fiscal year, but I don’t know about next year. It’s looking pretty bad at this point, but there’s no use worrying about it right now.

I’ve recently ended my speaking arrangements with Feminists for Life, and although I will greatly miss working with them, I have gained friends for life, will remain a member, and support their cause throughout my life. I am excited about the opportunities that “being on my own,” so to speak, gives me for branching out and continuing to share my story in many different contexts, especially faith-based areas. I have come to that point in my life where I just can’t not say things in my speeches about my spiritual beliefs and my gratefulness to God for saving my life, and I am grateful that I can share my story and my gratitude with the world.

I have finished the manuscript that I have written about surviving the abortion attempt, searching for and being reunited with my biological family, and finding myself in the process, and I hope to hear back soon from a literary author/speaker’s bureau about possible representation from them. Say a few prayers for me about this! This would fulfill my life long dream to really pursue full-time speaking and writing.

In case you haven’t seen it yet, my new website is up and running–thanks, John, for working on it. I love it! I need to post some more recent photos of all of us, but it’s a great update to what I had previously. On the website are some videos of interviews that I have done and some short speech clips, but we will continue to post additional speeches and interviews on YouTube. There’s this really amazing digital story posted on YouTube that’s about four minutes long, that a good friend of mine produced for me. I encourage you to check it out and share it with others. I think it’s a good example of how abortion truly affects peoples lives. As I outline on my website, “one decision, one single moment, can have such a detrimental impact on so many people, living and dead, born and yet to be conceived.”