Grandparents and Abortion
A Memory Should Be
A Poem in memory of my Grandbaby…
By Karen Fifer
Sometimes…… in the still of the night.
There is a place
Where there should be
A Newborn hand
First steps and things to see.
But always in that memory
Your precious face is hid from me.
Sometimes…… in the still of the night.
In that place where a memory should be.
A precious peace comes over me
For I know
That Jesus holds
A Grandmother’s Tale
Because grandparents do not personally experience the abortion, they often don’t feel free to consider their own loss and grieve this precious family member personally. Many grandparents are caught up in trying to help their children heal. It takes time for the truth to sink in that they have indeed had a great loss themselves. I share my story with you, with my daughter’s permission, because I want you to know the perspective of grandparents and help you begin the healing process. A secondary goal in my sharing is to help daughters understand their parent’s pain according to the following scripture:
“For what credit is there if, when you sin and are harshly treated, you endure it with patience? But if when you do what is right and suffer for it you patiently endure it, this finds favor with God. For you have been called for this purpose since Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example for you to follow in His steps.” I Peter 2:20-21
My story begins at the washer. I was doing laundry, and this voice came into my head, “Connie is having an abortion.” I heard it as clear as a bell in my own voice. “No, that is not true, that is a lie from the devil,” I told myself. “My daughter would not do that.” Yet the thought, or “voice,” continued to haunt me. In thinking that it might be discernment message from the Holy Spirit, I decided to investigate further.
My daughter had gone to the cabin with her boyfriend’s grandparents. I had called ahead to make sure it was okay for her to go. At the last minute they wanted to leave early in the morning because my daughter’s boyfriend wanted to fish with his uncle before the afternoon heat arrived. I questioned her about the early departure and, for some reason, was very reluctant to give my approval. With their persistence, I finally agreed they could leave early.
As the message in my heart continued to haunt me, I decided to call the cabin to hear her voice. I was amazed to discover they had yet to arrive! His grandparents thought they could be at the uncle’s cabin on the other side of the cove. I asked her to have Connie call me as soon as she arrived. Within a few minutes Connie called home. Her “story” was they had not been to his grandparents cabin because they had been fishing near his uncle’s cabin across the lake. Her excuse seemed logical and I chose to believe her.
When she came home later in the day, I recognized an undistinguished coldness on her part. I couldn’t determine the cause of this strange emotion but it was very obvious to my mother’s heart that she was in pain. She was cordial and acted friendly but I wasn’t convinced. I tried to push off the message of the “voice” but my heart was still concerned.
The next weekend her boyfriend went to Colorado and she spent the time in her room curled up in a fetal position crying. She wouldn’t come out and she would not talk to me. When I tried to approach her she gave me an angry reply– “You wouldn’t understand, leave me alone.” I asked if she and her boyfriend had broken up but she responded with silence. Rejected, I left her alone.
Her boyfriend brought her back a nice gift and everything seemed to return to normal between them. I chose to believe that the reason for her tears were because they had a fight and had now worked it out. Still, there was a wall between us. I hit my face on it often when I tried to talk to her but didn’t understand why it was there. I struggled with the “voice” that kept raising the abortion prospect because I was too afraid to bring it up or ask her directly. As a result, the wall between us grew stronger.
Four months later, I went to my daughter’s room in search of a belt for a skirt I was going to wear. When I opened her dresser drawer there was a rattling sound. So I dug to determine the source of the sound. I justified my search by telling myself that, “I’m a Mom and it is my right to look anywhere I want in my own home.” I was not prepared for what I found. It was a prescription bottle for pain medication from a well-known abortionist in my city.
I was immediately enraged. The “voice” was true. How I responded still surprises me as I look back on those dark days of pain. I called the particular abortionist and had him paged at the hospital saying that it was an emergency. When he came on the phone, I relayed my discovery and threatened him. I told him I would see him rot in hell for what he had done to my minor daughter. I said these things knowing that the law protected him and there was really nothing I could do. He knew his rights and basically laughed in my face. I hung up on him.
Then I called my daughter’s boyfriend at work. He played me off by saying he “didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.” Then I drove to the high school and insisted they page my daughter. When she didn’t come right away I learned from the receptionist she had just taken an emergency call from a man. I knew that her boyfriend had clued her in on my discovery.
When she finally came to the office fear was written all over her face. As soon as we were in the car I asked her if she had had an abortion. “You know the answer to that!” she responded. To this day I am ashamed at my next response. I hit her arm with my fist saying, “How could you kill your own child! How could you do this?”
We went home and cried together. Then we yelled at each other and wept again. She asked for my forgiveness and told me how sorry she was. I was unwilling to forgive her. All I could say was I was sorry too — sorry that a child was gone. I was hurt and felt betrayed. My grandchild was gone and my fears were confirmed. My head was spinning with “what ifs?”
“For nothing is hidden, except to be revealed; nor has anything been secret, but that it should come to the light.” Mark 4:22
The only person who knew of my daughter’s abortion was my niece. My daughter told her after she had the abortion. That fact did not settle well with me because my niece was worldly. My daughter did not respect her and had often verbalized her disapproval of her lifestyle. Later I realized that because of her lifestyle my daughter felt her safe to confide in and trust her with this secret.
“Connie” later confided that she had been determined that I would never know about her abortion because she suspected my reaction based on my pro-life mentality. I had often prayed that the light of Christ would expose any darkness lurking in my life. When you make this prayer, you must be prepared for what will be exposed. God had already revealed so much to me regarding my children’s choices but I would never have thought I would have to deal with the pain of an aborted grandchild.”
“And do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but instead even expose them; for it is disgraceful even to speak of the things that are done by them in secret. But all things become visible when they are exposed by the light for everything that becomes visible is light.” Ephesians 5:11-13
My daughter’s fear in our discovering this truth was that we could possibly make her break up with the man she loved. She also feared we would make her place the baby for adoption because my niece had just made an adoption decision. It was clear to “Connie” that everyone thought adoption was a great alternative to an unplanned pregnancy. She didn’t feel like she could ever make that choice. We also had some very tragic circumstances going on within the family and she was concerned about adding any more stress in my life.
She later told me she had felt like she was a screwed up child and the pregnancy would be one more screw up that I would know about. She didn’t know the depth of our love and that we never viewed her as a “screw up.” One thing I learned that day is that we never fully know how our children interpret our words.”
My daughter’s boyfriend really did not want his grandparents to know, and they still do not know today. This is another reason for my inability to share my name with you. These grandparents were caring for his terminally ill mother in his grandparents home and he did not want his grandparents to have any more stress in their lives. He had also given his grandparents trouble in the past when his parents divorced and he did not want to disappoint his family again. He assured my daughter that everything would be okay and no one would ever find out. This poor young man did not understand how hard it would be for my daughter to keep those kinds of emotions suppressed. They were immature and young, trying to make life decisions all alone on matters that they had no knowledge about. They could not begin to understand all of the life-long affects this one decision would have on their lives and the lives of others.”
Shame was a very real emotion. My daughter had an abortion. I was the pro-life guru of our community and was very active and highly profiled in the city. I was on staff at the local pregnancy care center. I was also full of pride. I had even been arrested during an anti-abortion event at a clinic. My daughter drove me to the clinic that morning to be arrested and it was only two weeks after her own abortion. To this day I feel so horrible about how she must have felt that day. That fact grieved me for a long time and still does. I tell people I was pro-life as a pagan! Before Christ in my life, before I knew what it meant to be pro-life, I was pro-life. I had taken my kids to abortion clinics to protest and pray. I had done a lot of sex education with my kids because of my involvement with the PCC. Everyone around me knew my stand on abortion. I’d even talked with the bag boy about abortion at grocery stores when they would load my groceries into my car.
The bottom line was that I felt like my daughter’s abortion was a reflection on me. I could never re assume the title of “great Christian mom” in our community. On the day I found out about my daughter’s abortion I went to the abortion clinic where my grandchild had died. Outside, on my knees, I wailed out loud in pain! A young man came up to me and asked if I would like some help. He said he could send me someplace where I could talk to someone. I said, “You don’t understand, I am the person that you send folks to. I couldn’t stop my own daughter from getting an abortion, what makes you think anyone could help me?” Needless to say, he received some of my anger and hurt. He did not deserve it. That young man prayed for me — he laid his hand on my shoulder and prayed for me. He was clueless about what was going on, but he took his time to pray. He will never know how much that meant to me, nor the strength I gained from his prayer. My pride was stripped away and I was looking only at my own pain.
Hidden in my own story was my shame. I placed it on myself even though it didn’t really belong to me. Shame is one of those emotions that we make our own from the inside out. When our children do something wrong we think it is a direct reflection on us! We call it shame, and it is all wrapped up in colorful, pretty wrapping paper of pride! It should be disappointment or hurt or maybe rejection but we title it shame. The father I told you about had shame. So did the young college woman who aborted because her mother said she was a bad parent. Their shame looked different than mine and was there for different reasons — but it was there, along with my pride.
I was really hurt over the lies my daughter told me surrounding the day of her abortion and the next few weeks after. There were so many lies. A few weeks before her abortion, I had even suspected she was pregnant and had confronted her with my suspicions. She had lied to me and told me she was still a virgin. Once again, I doubted her word but had nothing to prove otherwise except my own discernment. She had lied before but this was a BIG lie that cut deeper than all of the others. I blamed the other situation in our family for the abortion. If that difficult situation weren’t going on then maybe my daughter would have confided in me.
Her deception cut really deep into my heart. My daughter had visited Planned Parenthood for her pregnancy test. That fact alone made her an instant traitor in my eyes. She had told the clinic staff that I worked for the opposition so they helped her even more. She was assisted in getting into the clinic without being seen and encouraged in her plan to abort. They took her side and she felt like they were her friends. That really ate at my soul. I could see them laughing at me. It all felt really evil like Satan was saying, “got ya!” It took a long time to get that image out of my mind. The anger consumed me. Sometimes it was hard to look at her or want to talk to her. Silence then replaced the anger so I could keep myself from exploding at her. I retreated into silence that was much easier. Every time I looked at her, she reminded me of my pain and I was sad or angry all over again. Sometimes I would go into my bedroom and cry in private. I knew she knew I was crying and was hurt that she was the cause. That didn’t stop my tears. I cried for literally a whole year.
Triggers would make me cry at very in-opportune times. Maybe it was a song or just being at work and hearing the abortion word so often. Sometimes it was my own frustrations of not knowing how to fix my daughter or myself. Other times my tears were because I realized the depth of the loss of the child.
My relationship with “Connie” was pretty fractured. This anger and silence poured out into my marriage and my relationship with our other children. I became over-possessive and untrusting with my other children. I didn’t want them out of my sight. I smothered them. These behaviors lasted for many years and brought havoc in our family even after I had dealt with my daughter’s abortion.”
I blamed my daughter’s boyfriend. After all, I had raised her right so he must have corrupted her. We took our children to church and had family devotions and prayer. It must be him. It had to be him. I just knew she would have never done such a thing without his influence. I didn’t hate him but I didn’t like him. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. She was a Christian girl and he couldn’t have been if he had encouraged her to abort. It was a long time before I could allow myself to admit that my daughter went into that abortion clinic on her own free will. Her boyfriend did not drag her there. She went willingly and she chose to lie to cover her tracks.”
I could not repent for my daughter’s sin. She had to do that for herself. I tried to be her Holy Spirit. It didn’t work. All I could do was pray that God, through His Holy Spirit, would bring her to the place where she recognized the depth of her own sin and be willing to repent. At that point, God would begin to heal and restore her. I can’t tell you how many times I tried to fix her on my own. During that time God kept saying to let Him do the work and wait for His time.
My “what ifs” led me to feelings of guilt, even though I did not have any part in or knowledge of the abortion. My guilt was clearly misplaced but still real. I had thoughts like:
- What if she had this baby, how would she finish school?
- How would we have paid for her pregnancy?
- What if I ended up parenting this child? I would be in the babysitting role all the time, and I was ready to have some freedom, my other children were old enough that I didn’t have to do everything for them.
- What if they wanted to get married?
- What if I had never said this or that?
I also had guilt about not wanting a crying baby in the house. Then I would feel guilty because there was a baby I was not thinking about. Sometimes I was relieved that I didn’t have to deal with the baby. And I would feel awful. I would feel guilty for my own thoughts and my own selfishness. The thoughts severely conflicted with my personal beliefs and my position at the pregnancy care center.
I had to repent of my own guilt and explore the source of these emotions/thoughts. I had to release my guilt and understand that I could not take on her guilt too. My daughter and her boyfriend were responsible for their own sin and guilt. As parents our nature is to fix it and make it better. God, in His infinite wisdom, would not allow others to pay for someone else guilt and sin. Only Jesus could do that. We are only responsible for our own. And yes, I too had sin in this abortion. My sin was how I handled my pain and anger. I did everything I tell parents not to do. My final sin that I had to deal with was unforgiveness.”
“For Christ also died for sins once for all, the just for the unjust, in order that he might bring us to God, having been put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the Spirit.” I Peter 3:18
Sydna Masse was the pregnancy center banquet speaker for the fund raising dinner for our pregnancy resource center a few years ago. I had no idea what Sydna was going to share that night. I had a table full of guests, including my daughter Connie. As Sydna shared her story about her horrific abortion procedure, completed without benefit of anesthesia, she opened my eyes to a different side of my daughter’s abortion. I didn’t like hearing that my daughter may have experienced pain or the aspect of her agonizing over the decision. It was so hard to listen to because a new area of pain opened up. I was also hurting for my daughter as she sat beside me. It was all my daughter and I could do to sit through the entire evening next to our friends. I watched her fight back tears as mine flowed down my cheeks.
After the event concluded I was relieved that I had tasks to perform since I was on staff at this center. I was able to avoid Sydna completely. She left that night and I never spoke to her. She had opened a new wound and challenged me once again to explore deeper into my own heart and soul. God used her to send me somewhere I was not prepared to go. I was mad at her — mad that she challenged me — mad that my daughter was upset too — mad that my daughter may have experienced something similar and it would never had happened if only I had known she was pregnant.
God in His infinite wisdom would not leave me struggling for very long. The next day Connie and I had a long talk about her abortion experience and things that Sydna had shared at the banquet. Connie was encouraged at Sydna’s point when she talked about the fact that 90% of couples break up after an abortion. She had then gone on to say, “If you are part of that 10% then God is all over your relationship because it is rare!” What I took to be bad and hurtful had actually blessed Connie! She knew that God’s hand was on her marriage. Sydna stood in her place and told me the story that my daughter could not relay.
Several days later I wrote Sydna a letter explaining to her how I felt, asking for her forgiveness for the way that I treated her. Even though she was unaware of my rejection that evening, I felt the need to communicate with her about the evening. Sydna made a personal phone call back to me and graciously acknowledged my pain and our friendship was established which would eventually lead to my writing this story for you to read. I saw that God can use even the most painful things in our lives to open conversation and promote healing if we will yield ourselves to His refining fire.”
Zechariah 13:9 “This third I will bring into the fire; I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name and I will answer them; I will say, ‘They are my people,’ and they will say, “The Lord is our God.’”
I am so thankful for my husband and my friends who let me cry and say the ugly things that were deep inside of me without judging me or quoting scriptures. There were those who would often quote Romans 8:28 to me –“and we know that God causes all things to work together for good for those who love God, and to those who are called according to His purpose.” That scripture in itself didn’t make me feel better – and I could hardly bear the thought that somehow good would come out of this and that would erase the pain. That scripture is written to believers. What if an unbeliever is involved?
As a Christian, I knew that God is capable and does make good come out of any situation. He is the only one who can do that. Yet in the middle of deep anguish, that scripture does not make sense. How could good come out of killing a child? How could good come from a person who would never be a part of my life or the lives of my children? Abortion is not good and never will be. Can God make incredible things happen from bad decisions and circumstances — even an abortion? Absolutely!! That doesn’t mean we will see that good on earth, however.
I am so thankful for those who allowed me to pour out my feelings and rehash the situation sometimes over and over again. I am ever thankful for the prayers of friends when I could not pray for myself or for my daughter. Some sent cards of encouragement to let me know they were praying. It was no coincidence that those messages would come just when I need them most!”
“My husband was often left to deal with his own pain over our daughter’s lost virginity and abortion. I was too caught up in my stuff to help him with his. He did confide in a Christian man at work who prayed for us. Men are often alone in their pain. Who do they talk to? Who understands them? I do know that he struggled with the boyfriend and forgiving him for a long time. He had to be strong for both of us and he would often hold me when I would cry. He suffered mainly in silence.
For a long time, we would have brief conversations when his pain would begin to surface, the communication would close off again. He confronted me during my angry time. If I said inappropriate things to my daughter, he called me on it. He was actually more sensitive at that time toward her than I was. I think he could be more detached with his feelings. As I healed, I would share with him what I was learning. When our daughter struggled with infertility we talked about the abortion more than we ever had. I know he grieved. When I started ministering to post-abortive women it opened up conversations about how abortion affects us.
My husband has become much more vocal at work on the topic of abortion since this experience. He is a quiet man and when he speaks it is from his heart with compassion, truth and conviction. Sometimes he says, “Connie’s child would have been the age of our godchild.” That is his way of remembering. I think we both poured our love into our Godchild as a replacement. She was certainly God’s gift to us in the midst of our pain. He loves her dearly she still has a special place in our hearts. Our Godchild was almost aborted by her mother and is the age our grandchild would have been. We believe that God put her in our lives as a balm for our hurting hearts. She needed grandparents because she did not have any and we could fill that void in her life. We needed each other. She calls us “Gram and Papa.”
After a while of listening to me pour my feelings out over and over, a friend of mine gently pointed out that I was prideful and what that pride was focused on. Ouch! It was the truth. Now I had a decision to make — deal with it or live in it.”
One of my regrets in dealing with my daughter’s abortion was that I confided in people who in turn shared my daughter’s secret with others. While this hurt me, it hurt my daughter more. She did not need any more hurt or guilt from having others know about this truth behind her back. She was clearly struggling enough.
In my work at the pregnancy care center I keep the confidences of others everyday and know things about people I would never share. In this situation I needed help. I was hurting and it spilled out. It was also a point of pride because it was important to me that others knew I had no prior knowledge of the abortion. I still struggle with my actions during that time.
Although I told some people that I should not have, I did do a few things correctly. I allowed my daughter to tell her siblings when she was ready. I told her I would wait until she felt it was time but that I would not lie if asked directly. It was fine with me if she never told them and there is one sibling that she still has not told. That is her right. One of my daughters pieced it all together and asked me. I responded with yes but that I wanted her to wait until her sister could speak to her about it. I’ll never forget that experience. We cried together and prayed. I only shared my hurt with her and tried my best to not make her sister out to be a bad person. I stated that she was a confused, scared and immature 16 year-old at the time. Later they did discuss the abortion, because I had let her know that her sister knew. They have talked about it a lot since that time, this was especially important since my oldest daughter is a nurse.
During Connie’s infertility period in her marriage, when the abortion haunted her, my two daughters had a good relationship and shared together often. In fact, her sister was the first to know when she finally got pregnant! Connie shared her abortion with her other sisters when she felt the time was right but has not told her brother. My parents, his grandparents and other extended relatives still do not know. I do not feel a need for them to know. If Connie tells them then it will be fine but I will not break her confidences again.
By the way, she has given me permission to share our story but only in areas where it could help others. In other words, I would not share this with my church or in my community where someone could piece it together who knows our family. There are some things I just will not share for my daughters well being. There have been times that she has asked me if so and so knows. I have always been honest with her – especially when I was the one that initially told them.”
Remember how I talked about my own guilt? Actually I did not realize my feelings of guilt and how much they had become a part of my pain until I went through the “Forgiven and Set Free” bible study. The father I talked about from church had a different guilt from mine. He needed to admit his part in the abortion. He needed to be honest with himself and ask his daughter for forgiveness. The pain of his guilt needed to be addressed head on. I was pretty straightforward with him about his role as a father. I also never saw him again at church. Back then there was nothing available for extended family members as far as a support groups or bible study was considered. In writing this booklet with Sydna, I’m hoping to change that situation.”
We think happiness is what is lost and that it is wrapped in others. God does not promise happiness but He does promise joy. Joy does not depend on circumstances — it depends on God. Joy can be felt in the worst of situations. Happiness can be fleeting but joy is steadfast. You may need to help them see who the sustainer of joy is and to understand that joy feels lost when there is unforgiveness.”
I was in the counseling room with a young woman who had aborted several years earlier and was helping her deal with her aftermath and speaking to her of God’s forgiveness and the need to forgive herself. This was long before I took any kind of training to help post-abortive people heal.
There was God’s “voice” again in my mind. He was saying, “You’re telling her to forgive others and telling her of MY forgiveness and you can’t forgive your own daughter?” Ouch! Somehow God got me through that appointment with her. Later, God and I did business.
I went out alone in my car and I yelled at God. It is still amazing to me that He can handle our anger. I confessed to Him all my pain and screamed and cried at the unfairness of abortion and the other circumstances that were going on in our lives at the time. I yelled that the circumstances had cost me my grandchild. I admitted to Him my anger toward my daughter. I promised Him I would forgive her. I gave Him my own sin. First I had to admit I had sin issues and then I had to quit blaming her and her boyfriend for my sin.
I would like to say that immediate results happened and that all of that yelling and crying made everything better. The truth is it took a while. I think my daughter had to feel like I forgave her after that date. When we discussed abortion my words were no longer harsh and guilt laden. I began to like her boyfriend again and slowly it showed to him as well. Over time I began to tell him that I loved him. When he believed I was sincere, then the door was open for conversation. There had been harsh words in the past and actions I wish had never occurred. But today, I love him so much and cannot think about what life would be without him in it.
My daughter married this young man two weeks after she graduated from high school. I began to see the effects of abortion on their marriage immediately and we began to communicate again. By this time, I had taken training to help other women heal from abortion. Over time, a conversation here and a conversation there, I had an opportunity to speak to her about her own healing that she needed from her abortion. I openly shared how I could see it taking its toll on their young marriage. Connie went through a post-abortion group at our center and I never told the leader she was my daughter. She needed her own personal time to heal. I didn’t ask the leader how she was doing either. I just prayed and God answered all my prayers on her behalf.
We have had sweet, sweet conversations and time to talk about this child together. It became something we could discuss with ease without guilt. It prepared us for what would come next — infertility.”
It took a while to forgive the people who helped in my daughter’s abortion. The doctor was actually was easier to forgive than the women at Planned Parenthood and the clinic. It was really easy to put my hate on them. Motherly love kept me from feeling hate toward my daughter or her boyfriend. I was mad and hurt by them but I hated those “others.”
I can’t really say that one day I just decided to forgive them because it just happened. As I applied all that I had learned from Bible study to my situation it became a natural outcome. Forgiveness always starts in our heart first and then God takes that and filters it to others. Once I chose to forgive all involved, the hate went away. It didn’t happen overnight but it just eventually disappeared. I don’t have any bad feelings for them anymore. I often pray that God would change their hearts and help me understand that process. I realize that it is His job to change hearts and not mine. Just like Jesus said on the cross, ‘Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.’ I pray they will someday surrender to Christ and quit doing abortions.
My daughter had been raised in a pro-life Christian home. She had accepted Christ as Savior. Abortion began to raise doubts in her mind if God would forgive her. I had great opportunities to speak God’s truth to her during this time. Her faith began to flourish and she became stronger and more committed to living for Christ. I don’t think this would have happened it God had not first done a work in my heart to the point that we could share and talk openly without condemnation.
As grandparents of an aborted child, the sorrow of thinking about the lost grandchild can be overwhelming. You begin to think that if you grieve it will cause new or more intense pain. I never considered grieving my grandchild, even though I had in small ways. Every time I would begin I would quickly push it away. I didn’t want to think about my lost grandchild too much. And yet the child was the focus of everything and consumed my thought life.
Abortion is all about the child. I would heap guilt on myself over the child and my perceived failures to protect my own child let alone my grandchild. Then through my position at the pregnancy care center I had an opportunity to take training to help women recover from abortion. I could clearly understand that need! At the end of the training weekend they had a memorial service. I dreaded the service as soon as I heard what they were planning later in the day. I completely lost it during the memorial when it came my time to share. Words would not come out and I wailed loudly — just like you see people in foreign countries wail.
I had never considered naming the child or allowing myself to think of it as a boy or girl. Someone came and led me to my seat where I continued to cry. And when I was all cried out the strangest thing happened. Peace came. I still have the rose they gave us. I dried it and it is on a little shelf in my bedroom. It is the only tangible thing I have that this child ever existed. It will stay there always. When I look at it, there is not sadness anymore, just an expectancy that heaven will erase away all the years between us.”
As I received healing, God began to grow my outreach. I have talked to more grandmothers of aborted babies and aunts and uncles than I could have ever imagined. God has used this child, my grandchild, to reach out to others grandparents that have suffered from abortion. I am much more empathetic with women I counsel with at the pregnancy care center as well. God stripped away my preconceived ideas about women who abort. I have worked with young women who tell me their mothers would wig out to find out they were pregnant. They justify that abortion is the only answer and through my grandchild’s death, God has used me to challenge that thinking. God has allowed me to hold in my arms children marked for death. He has given me wonderful friendships with post-abortive women, whom I now consider to be some of my closest friends. I now know and understand the post-abortive woman more than ever. Does He make good come out of bad? Oh Yes, He does. For HIS namesake! Now I can appreciate Rom. 8:28 and understand the unique workings of an Almighty God.
My daughter’s story doesn’t end there either. After years of infertility, tests and surgery, my daughter did conceive and had a handsome little boy this year. We had many tough conversations about if God was punishing her or if she caused this or if she would ever have another child. We prayed and talked and prayed some more. God answered our prayers and this little boy looks just like I always thought their children would look like. God is Good!” If you are grandparents or possibly someone who has experienced abortion please feel free to email me. Email Karen
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Hello, I am Sydna Massé Founder and CEO of Ramah International. I'd love to keep in touch and include you in our prayer chain as we continue to serve abortion's wounded and those considering abortion.
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