My father was an evangelist, traveling and ministering where ever he was called.
My mother was a devout Southern Baptist and my father was a full-gospel, spirit-filled Christian. I was torn between two churches. They were both very godly people but had different outlooks on the Bible because of their denominations.
I received Jesus as my Savior and was baptized at age 12 in the Baptist Church, but I did not understand the importance of daily prayer, and reading the Word of God.
At the age of 13, I was raped by a 15 year old extended family member, stealing my virginity. I was scared, having not received any sexual education at all. I thought immediately that I would be pregnant. I was afraid to tell anyone because this was a family member. Because he had given me marijuana beforehand, I felt ashamed that I had not seen it coming.
As a result, I turned to drugs, alcohol and sought attention from older men. Within a year, I was raped by a cousin who was 10 years older than me — once again, after being given marijuana. He drove me into the woods and raped me in his truck.
At that point, I felt like there was a big sign on me, “Rape this girl.” After that, I went into a really dark place, again, feeling so much shame. I didn’t want the devastation in the family if I told anyone because I knew he would go to jail, and I didn’t even know if anyone would believe my story.
I became distant with my parents. I was involved in church, going church with my Mom, but found the worst crowd to hang out with there — those who would smoke pot in the parking lot. I was even in a private Christian school, but got kicked out at age 14 because of my activities.
In 10th grade, I started a public school and soon after met a boy who I began dating. He took me to his cousin’s house after school because no adults were home. We smoked pot that must have been laced with something else, then he locked me in his cousin’s room and raped me.
He left me in the room where I was devastated, and I could hear him and his cousin laughing about it. I felt like I just wanted to get out of there and get home, but I didn’t even know where I was so I was still dependent upon the guy who raped me to be able to get a ride home.
After few weeks later, I’d missed my period. I called an older sister to tell her my predicament, and my sister began to tell me I needed to have an abortion. At 15, I didn’t even know what an abortion was. My mother overheard our conversation, burst into the room and grabbed the phone from me. During their conversation, my sister convinced my mom that I needed to abort. I have no idea how she achieved this, because my mom had 9 children and was, as I said, very devout.
I was scared, so I made a “deal” with God: “Please help me to not be pregnant. If I’m not pregnant, I promise not to ever have sex out of marriage again.”
That same sister took me to Planned Parenthood in Houston for a pregnancy test, where they confirmed my pregnancy, and I was in shock. They told me that at this stage of only five weeks, “it” was only a blob of tissue. They also suggested that I needed an abortion, since I was so young and still in school. I didn’t know what questions to ask as far as other options. All that was discussed was abortion, and they referred me to another clinic to have one.
I was devastated. At school, I told all of my girlfriends and every single one recommended I get an abortion. Everybody told me that it was really “no big deal, people do it all the time, especially since you’re still in school.” Not one person suggested that I could keep the baby or choose adoption. I felt abortion was my only choice, and completely lacked any education on pregnancy.
When I told the guy who raped me that I was pregnant and needed money for an abortion, he denied that he was the father, which deepened my shame. However, under pressure from my sister, he decided to tell everyone in school so he could gather money to pay for the abortion, and handed my sister a wad of 1’s and 5’s.
The first thing I remember is that my mother was appalled, having noticed that there were women in the waiting room who were far along in their pregnancies, and she said to me, “What are all of these women doing in here? They look like they are about to deliver.”
My sister handled the paperwork, but my Mom and sister were not allowed into the counseling room. The older woman there advised me that because I was so young and so small, I might not be able to have children later in life. But marriage and children were the furthest thing from my mind in the moment and I was not afforded the benefit of having my mother there for me to help me make an informed decision.
In hindsight, I believe this was the first open door God gave me to not go through with it. I really believe that, had my mom been in the room with me, we would have left.
The next thing I remember is being on the hard, cold abortion table. I was never introduced to the doctor. I just remember that he was a man. As the nurse was prepping me, I could hear my mother’s voice at the door, asking, “Is my daughter in there?”, then her being told, “Ma’am, you cannot come in here.” We never discussed it since, but I believe my Mom was wanting to get me out of there — the second open door.
I was told to focus on a baby mobile hanging from the ceiling. Now that I look back on it, I see how sadistic that was.
I could hear and feel everything that was happening to me. I’d never been to a gynecologist before, and I felt like my entire insides were being ripped out of me. I’ve heard it said that abortion is like rape, and it’s true, but worse than rape because of the devastating level of violence involved. The violence and pain of the abortion are more extreme in my memory than the violence and pain of the rapes.
I was bleeding profusely when I left. My Mom and sister took me to a restaurant, but I passed out on my plate because I was so physically and emotionally exhausted. After that, the subject of abortion was taboo with them.
As I was going through the motions, trying to fill this huge void within me, I attached myself to an abusive relationship less than a year after the abortion, and I eventually married him at age 19.
At the age of 32, having suffered low self-esteem from the rapes, the abortion, the shame, the abusive marriage, the loss of my babies, and my infertility, I attempted suicide. The experience of the abortion did not make the rape experience any better, but drove me into a much darker place, and I realize I’d been suffering from clinical depression all of those years.
God then began drawing me close to Him through listening to Christian music on the radio. As the Lord was filling me with this influence of His Truth, I gave my heart back to Christ, and the radio became my Church. I even committed myself to quit smoking.
One day, on my local Christian radio station, they happened to be holding was what was called the world’s largest baby shower, benefiting local pregnancy resource centers. I heard a woman speaking about the centers, and I knew I had to pick up the phone, call her, and make myself available to tell other women never to have an abortion. I realized that God had been working on me to see that so many of my struggles in life were caused by my abortion.
Up to that point, I’d still considered myself to be pro-choice, because I felt like I had been forced into an abortion and wasn’t really given a choice.
As I visited the pregnancy resource center in central Houston, the director asked me if I’d ever had an abortion, and breaking my silence, I told her. In order to volunteer, I was told I had to go through their post-abortion healing study called “Beauty For Ashes.” It sounded so refreshing to hear that something like this existed!
This study saved my life. My abusive husband didn’t want me going. He didn’t want me volunteering at the center. It was a battle to come back to the Lord, but I received so much healing through this study. I got to name each of my six babies, and God healed me to be able to minister to other people and change my life.
During this time, I’d also begun attending church with my Dad. As I said, he was an evangelist, so I was too fearful to ever tell him about the abortion, until almost 20 years later as I was going through this study. When I told him, he was devastated that he had lost a grandchild. He said to me, “If I had known I had a grandchild, I would have raised that baby myself.”
I want everyone to know that abortion doesn’t fix rape, and the experience of abortion is more damaging physically and emotionally than the rape itself. My child had every right to life and I would do anything in my power to have that child in my arms, or to be able to hand that baby to a loving couple.
Texas. Her ministry is Eagles Restoration Ministries. She spoke at the Family Research Council press conference in DC in March, 2016, the day before the Texas HB2 US Supreme Court hearing. Her name and story, along with many others, was on the amicus brief filed with the high court by The Justice Foundation. Nona is now a blogger for Save The 1 and available for speaking and testifying before legislatures. Watch a video of her sharing her post-abortive from rape testimony
