Testimony
After thinking it over a whole bunch, and reading certain posts on Travel The Road forum...I think its time to talk about it.
I was born and raised in a Christian family. I went to church every Sunday, Wednesday and special occasion. I knew the bible stories and had even seen many miracles.
My whole concept of christianity changed my Senior year in highschool. My family was no longer going to church and I didn't want to be associated as the "prissy goody good" anymore. That summer I started working with the football team. One of the players thought I was cute, but really I was just a game to him. I let myself get in the wrong position one afternoon and I wasn't the same after that. A couple weeks later I knew I was pregnant, I had morning sickness and it was hard to keep anything down. I didn't talk much, didn't hug and kiss my family as much, I watched the same movies over and over again. I didn't think about it, I didn't enjoy it...I just veggitated for a while hoping I wouldn't have to deal with it. One night my Mum asked me if I was pregnant and after telling her what happened, she took me to counselling and prepared me with my options. Have an abortion or quit school and raise the baby, tell the university your not coming in the fall. It was my choice. In my mind there was only one option, I couldn't give up school because some jerk decided to have his way with me. So, I planned to have the abortion. At home, it was the family secret...at school I had to act as if nothing was wrong. I still had to be sassy and happy, still had to work with the football team, still had to see that guy everyday and see his smirks. My office was right next door to the locker room, I'm not stupid...I know everyone else knew, but still I couldn't say anything. I just wrapped their ankles tighter, for comments I knew they had made...or made them sit out an extra game for an injury.
Then 2 weeks before my appt. an old aquaintance (T) showed up. I don't exactly know why I gave him the time of day. I wasn't exactly lovey dovey with the males at all. but he saw through that in me, he loved me for me. I only half believed him and thought as soon as I tell him whats going on, he will instantly stop loving me. So, the next day I told him. He hugged me and said it didn't change anything, and that if I wanted he would help me raise they baby as his own. I told him the choice I had made and he said ok. I know now that he was torn with my choice, he didn't want me to do that, but he understood how I felt.
The morning of the appt. I was restless, but I kept walking towards it. I got to the lobby and saw how many other people were there. With all kinds of situations...some were married and clinged to their husbands, others were there with friends or their mothers. Some were young, others older. I remember sitting there listening to the woman explain what was going to happen, she made it sound as if they were just removing a mole or cyst. They then escorted me to the back, away from my mother into a small room with an ultrasound. They needed to see where the baby was located. Thats when it hit me, I cried for my Mum but they wouldn't let her come back there. I refused to get on the table, all I could do was cry. My mind was screaming, my spirit was screaming, my body was nausiated. The nurse was obviously growing impaitent with me and another nurse came in to calm me down. She made it seems so "ok" I don't even remember what she said. Then I was laid on a table, with a sedative in my arm. the lights were a blur above me, and the last thing I felt was the nurse rubbing my arm saying i wouldn't remember a thing and it would be alright.
When I got home, I felt dead, empty, shame, anger, embarassed. I curled into a ball on my bed and just stared at the wall. I didn't think anything, I didn't say anything. I really only remember my Father peeking in the door, asking my Mum what he could do to help. He was torn inside too...I was his little girl so he didn't want me to hurt, but he greived for the baby too.
Two days later I had to put on the face again and go back to school. My best friend said I was just sick with a cold, and she held me in the bathrooms or in my office when she got the chance. Inside she hated me, she hated what I had done yet she loved on me. She was there for me. Tony was too, and with their help I made it through. We graduated, I was once again stoaked to be off for college...I made it ok, it never happened. Then my family split...I remember it like clock work. My father left for personal reasons I have stated before on this blog. The only safe place I could think of, the only place I wanted to be was in T's arms. So I went to his house. I cried and explained what happened, and he listened and held me. He comforted me and made love to me. I also left there different...
A couple weeks later an argument insued...I was going off to college and he was staying there. He didn't want to hold me back and knew I would have stayed if he said so, so he put me at a distance. I felt like he was angry with me, that it was over between us. So I went, and tried to make the best of it. I was only there about a week before I tried to get back in contact with T...I could only get a hold of his step-mother, and she read me like a book. She knew I was pregnant, and she told me his work number and hung up with me to call him and tell him. When I called him, we arranged to meet that weekend. Before the week was over, I miscarried...I cried so hard that night, missed my classes the next day crying. I fought with myself, I felt like I was broken. Still I had to buck up and get back into classes and make it work. That weekend if was awkward between us. At that point I didn't know what his step-mother had said or believed. So I said nothing, and he said nothing. We got into a tickle fight and when I guarded my stomach he knew what was up. I went back to campus, and went through another week, trying to make everyone else think I was ok. I drank, went clubbing and even worked with the football team again. I went home the next weekend and finally had a day with the house all to myself, I could just be me...pityful as I was. T came over and I finally told him what happened. I sat in his lap, in that cozy spot, crying and asking him not to be angry with me, telling him I was sorry I couldn't hold on to it, beating myself up as to why my body let the baby go... He held me and cried with me, he told me what his step-mother had told him and how upset he was that day we had the tickle fight. He said he knew then and just waited for me to come to him about it when I was ready. He said he had cried all that week and he isn't one to cry easily. Even though it hurt him that I didn't come to him sooner. But he still loved me, he still didn't want me to quit school so he let me go again.
Then I met Judgement, and we started talking and a friendship started half way around the world. He helped alot, he showed me things about myself I needed to see. He deserves more credit than I can write out. A month after we met...I was having morning sickness again...what happened? I hadn't seen Tony, I wasn't dating anyone at college. I sought out people who I thought could tell me what happened. Ahhhh....a party I got drunk at, but who? Either way, I decided I coulndn't give this one up, I had to hold onto it, even though I was devastated, crying more than smiling, missing classes, keeping to my room. I left school in January...never to return to that campus. It was like a night raid...an SUV showed up around 9pm we threw all mystuff in the back and drove off like nobodies business. I didn't tell my roomate I was leaving till I got into the car. Once home I was determined to make this baby special, to make the pregnancy a happy, joyful pregnancy. I started going to counselling again and started going to church again. I wanted to get back with God, I can't explain it, it was like an instinct and urge. I also needed to get in contact with my best friend again, and tell her I was sorry. I had no way of getting in contact with Tony, and I wouldn't even know what to say if I did. As it would be fated, we ran into each other in a toy store. It was the wrong time and place for him to see me pregnant, but he gave me the new number and said he would call. I was a wreck, I pretty much went on a distance trip again.
Then it hit me really hard...I was so wrong for having the abortion. I could feel baby boy move inside me, I could feel his little foot tap on my ribs. And I loved him so much already, he was the gift that my parents had always talked about. What made it ok in my mind to kill an innocent child? They didn't ask for aynthing, didn't foul up like I did. They were perfect, pure, special. Not only did I feel like a slut, pregnant 3 times in less than 12 months, I felt like the horrible baby killer I was. how could anyone love me? how could God let me keep living? what kind of a mother did I think I was going to be? how could i call myself a christian?
I kept going to church, I hungered so much for God. I couldn't get enough of him, yet I didn't feel like I was good enough for him to love. A couple families at our church befriended me and my family, prayed with us, loved on us, spent time with us. God began to talk with me again, or better yet..I was in the position to hear him talk to me. He laid things and people on my heart, checked me on my attitudes, kept me away from danger, gave me paitence and love, grace and mercy.
T came around a few times, he tried his best to be ok with it, to love me anyways. But he was angry, hurt and felt really betrayed. which is completely understandable. He would just repeat, "I always thought it would be my baby you were pregnant with" He said he had alot to work through to be with me again and would call me when he got through it. I had my own stuff to work through too, so I didn't fight him on it. I mean I didn't expect him to just be overjoyed and stay. In my mind he should have stoned me and kept going. Everyone should have. I'm so glad they didn't, even though I had to deal with the consequences of my actions.
The months past, and I was getting ready for a little boy. I setteled on a name, a strong meaningful name. I thought of all the things I wanted to do and to teach him. I wanted to rock him to sleep and sing to him everynight. I wanted to kiss him 1,000 times a day. I wanted to be the best mother I could be, the mother he needed me to be. I went to school while I was waiting for him to arrive and then decided to take a year off, I would breastfeed for that year. And everything would be put second to God and baby boy. He arrived, and I still made mistakes, I still put people through there paces. I still had to deal with "whos the father" "your not married?" "but your so young", "you were so bright" I had to deal with the condemnation of christians and non-christains alike.
I had the most perfect little boy, I loved being his mother. The church family was there at the hospital with me, singing to me to keep my mind off the contractions. I went home and started caring for this little treasure. He grew bigger and bigger and I loved the days I spent with him. I still wasn't perfect...made alot of mistakes, and hurt people in the process.
I am still working out relationships with my family and friends. I e-mail my Father with a new love and understanding. I am closer to my best friend, Tricci and she is enjoying being an Auntie. I'm in a very loving and committed relationship with T, we have come through so much together. I am firmly planted in our church, and growing closer and closer to God. I have learned so much in the spiritual realm, and that part of me grows daily and I have found the real meaning to Christianity. My life is enjoyably hard, being a christian does not make troubles disappear, but it gives you the hope, strength and courage to deal with life. And gives you the knowledge of life in heaven and everlasting love in Jesus Christ.
I was born and raised in a Christian family. I went to church every Sunday, Wednesday and special occasion. I knew the bible stories and had even seen many miracles.
My whole concept of christianity changed my Senior year in highschool. My family was no longer going to church and I didn't want to be associated as the "prissy goody good" anymore. That summer I started working with the football team. One of the players thought I was cute, but really I was just a game to him. I let myself get in the wrong position one afternoon and I wasn't the same after that. A couple weeks later I knew I was pregnant, I had morning sickness and it was hard to keep anything down. I didn't talk much, didn't hug and kiss my family as much, I watched the same movies over and over again. I didn't think about it, I didn't enjoy it...I just veggitated for a while hoping I wouldn't have to deal with it. One night my Mum asked me if I was pregnant and after telling her what happened, she took me to counselling and prepared me with my options. Have an abortion or quit school and raise the baby, tell the university your not coming in the fall. It was my choice. In my mind there was only one option, I couldn't give up school because some jerk decided to have his way with me. So, I planned to have the abortion. At home, it was the family secret...at school I had to act as if nothing was wrong. I still had to be sassy and happy, still had to work with the football team, still had to see that guy everyday and see his smirks. My office was right next door to the locker room, I'm not stupid...I know everyone else knew, but still I couldn't say anything. I just wrapped their ankles tighter, for comments I knew they had made...or made them sit out an extra game for an injury.
Then 2 weeks before my appt. an old aquaintance (T) showed up. I don't exactly know why I gave him the time of day. I wasn't exactly lovey dovey with the males at all. but he saw through that in me, he loved me for me. I only half believed him and thought as soon as I tell him whats going on, he will instantly stop loving me. So, the next day I told him. He hugged me and said it didn't change anything, and that if I wanted he would help me raise they baby as his own. I told him the choice I had made and he said ok. I know now that he was torn with my choice, he didn't want me to do that, but he understood how I felt.
The morning of the appt. I was restless, but I kept walking towards it. I got to the lobby and saw how many other people were there. With all kinds of situations...some were married and clinged to their husbands, others were there with friends or their mothers. Some were young, others older. I remember sitting there listening to the woman explain what was going to happen, she made it sound as if they were just removing a mole or cyst. They then escorted me to the back, away from my mother into a small room with an ultrasound. They needed to see where the baby was located. Thats when it hit me, I cried for my Mum but they wouldn't let her come back there. I refused to get on the table, all I could do was cry. My mind was screaming, my spirit was screaming, my body was nausiated. The nurse was obviously growing impaitent with me and another nurse came in to calm me down. She made it seems so "ok" I don't even remember what she said. Then I was laid on a table, with a sedative in my arm. the lights were a blur above me, and the last thing I felt was the nurse rubbing my arm saying i wouldn't remember a thing and it would be alright.
When I got home, I felt dead, empty, shame, anger, embarassed. I curled into a ball on my bed and just stared at the wall. I didn't think anything, I didn't say anything. I really only remember my Father peeking in the door, asking my Mum what he could do to help. He was torn inside too...I was his little girl so he didn't want me to hurt, but he greived for the baby too.
Two days later I had to put on the face again and go back to school. My best friend said I was just sick with a cold, and she held me in the bathrooms or in my office when she got the chance. Inside she hated me, she hated what I had done yet she loved on me. She was there for me. Tony was too, and with their help I made it through. We graduated, I was once again stoaked to be off for college...I made it ok, it never happened. Then my family split...I remember it like clock work. My father left for personal reasons I have stated before on this blog. The only safe place I could think of, the only place I wanted to be was in T's arms. So I went to his house. I cried and explained what happened, and he listened and held me. He comforted me and made love to me. I also left there different...
A couple weeks later an argument insued...I was going off to college and he was staying there. He didn't want to hold me back and knew I would have stayed if he said so, so he put me at a distance. I felt like he was angry with me, that it was over between us. So I went, and tried to make the best of it. I was only there about a week before I tried to get back in contact with T...I could only get a hold of his step-mother, and she read me like a book. She knew I was pregnant, and she told me his work number and hung up with me to call him and tell him. When I called him, we arranged to meet that weekend. Before the week was over, I miscarried...I cried so hard that night, missed my classes the next day crying. I fought with myself, I felt like I was broken. Still I had to buck up and get back into classes and make it work. That weekend if was awkward between us. At that point I didn't know what his step-mother had said or believed. So I said nothing, and he said nothing. We got into a tickle fight and when I guarded my stomach he knew what was up. I went back to campus, and went through another week, trying to make everyone else think I was ok. I drank, went clubbing and even worked with the football team again. I went home the next weekend and finally had a day with the house all to myself, I could just be me...pityful as I was. T came over and I finally told him what happened. I sat in his lap, in that cozy spot, crying and asking him not to be angry with me, telling him I was sorry I couldn't hold on to it, beating myself up as to why my body let the baby go... He held me and cried with me, he told me what his step-mother had told him and how upset he was that day we had the tickle fight. He said he knew then and just waited for me to come to him about it when I was ready. He said he had cried all that week and he isn't one to cry easily. Even though it hurt him that I didn't come to him sooner. But he still loved me, he still didn't want me to quit school so he let me go again.
Then I met Judgement, and we started talking and a friendship started half way around the world. He helped alot, he showed me things about myself I needed to see. He deserves more credit than I can write out. A month after we met...I was having morning sickness again...what happened? I hadn't seen Tony, I wasn't dating anyone at college. I sought out people who I thought could tell me what happened. Ahhhh....a party I got drunk at, but who? Either way, I decided I coulndn't give this one up, I had to hold onto it, even though I was devastated, crying more than smiling, missing classes, keeping to my room. I left school in January...never to return to that campus. It was like a night raid...an SUV showed up around 9pm we threw all mystuff in the back and drove off like nobodies business. I didn't tell my roomate I was leaving till I got into the car. Once home I was determined to make this baby special, to make the pregnancy a happy, joyful pregnancy. I started going to counselling again and started going to church again. I wanted to get back with God, I can't explain it, it was like an instinct and urge. I also needed to get in contact with my best friend again, and tell her I was sorry. I had no way of getting in contact with Tony, and I wouldn't even know what to say if I did. As it would be fated, we ran into each other in a toy store. It was the wrong time and place for him to see me pregnant, but he gave me the new number and said he would call. I was a wreck, I pretty much went on a distance trip again.
Then it hit me really hard...I was so wrong for having the abortion. I could feel baby boy move inside me, I could feel his little foot tap on my ribs. And I loved him so much already, he was the gift that my parents had always talked about. What made it ok in my mind to kill an innocent child? They didn't ask for aynthing, didn't foul up like I did. They were perfect, pure, special. Not only did I feel like a slut, pregnant 3 times in less than 12 months, I felt like the horrible baby killer I was. how could anyone love me? how could God let me keep living? what kind of a mother did I think I was going to be? how could i call myself a christian?
I kept going to church, I hungered so much for God. I couldn't get enough of him, yet I didn't feel like I was good enough for him to love. A couple families at our church befriended me and my family, prayed with us, loved on us, spent time with us. God began to talk with me again, or better yet..I was in the position to hear him talk to me. He laid things and people on my heart, checked me on my attitudes, kept me away from danger, gave me paitence and love, grace and mercy.
T came around a few times, he tried his best to be ok with it, to love me anyways. But he was angry, hurt and felt really betrayed. which is completely understandable. He would just repeat, "I always thought it would be my baby you were pregnant with" He said he had alot to work through to be with me again and would call me when he got through it. I had my own stuff to work through too, so I didn't fight him on it. I mean I didn't expect him to just be overjoyed and stay. In my mind he should have stoned me and kept going. Everyone should have. I'm so glad they didn't, even though I had to deal with the consequences of my actions.
The months past, and I was getting ready for a little boy. I setteled on a name, a strong meaningful name. I thought of all the things I wanted to do and to teach him. I wanted to rock him to sleep and sing to him everynight. I wanted to kiss him 1,000 times a day. I wanted to be the best mother I could be, the mother he needed me to be. I went to school while I was waiting for him to arrive and then decided to take a year off, I would breastfeed for that year. And everything would be put second to God and baby boy. He arrived, and I still made mistakes, I still put people through there paces. I still had to deal with "whos the father" "your not married?" "but your so young", "you were so bright" I had to deal with the condemnation of christians and non-christains alike.
I had the most perfect little boy, I loved being his mother. The church family was there at the hospital with me, singing to me to keep my mind off the contractions. I went home and started caring for this little treasure. He grew bigger and bigger and I loved the days I spent with him. I still wasn't perfect...made alot of mistakes, and hurt people in the process.
I am still working out relationships with my family and friends. I e-mail my Father with a new love and understanding. I am closer to my best friend, Tricci and she is enjoying being an Auntie. I'm in a very loving and committed relationship with T, we have come through so much together. I am firmly planted in our church, and growing closer and closer to God. I have learned so much in the spiritual realm, and that part of me grows daily and I have found the real meaning to Christianity. My life is enjoyably hard, being a christian does not make troubles disappear, but it gives you the hope, strength and courage to deal with life. And gives you the knowledge of life in heaven and everlasting love in Jesus Christ.
posted by Me @ 12:49 PM
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