Roe Day, Follow-up

A personal reflection by a post-abortive woman, which follows up on some of the themes of my last post, appears in the Rachel's Vineyard Vine and Branches Newsletter. I received this in an e-mail, and it should eventually appear on their website (which presently links to the January edition).



The Changing Face of the March for Life
By Andrea Staargaard



The face of the March for Life has changed. Even in the brief five years that I have been working in pro-life efforts such as volunteering at pregnancy centers and public outreach through education, I can see the large steps that have been taken by the movement to incorporate the voice of post-abortive women and men. At every turn I am further heartened by the compassion, the unity, and the single vision that is becoming more and more a part of the pro-life environment today.



No event is such a marked testament to this change than the March for Life. My first March was five years ago, in 2002. I remember going with my church, as a senior in high school. It was less than a year after my abortion – I was 17, and the only person who knew about my abortion was the friend who accompanied me to this event. I remember standing at the rally before the March, listening to senators talking about women who “sacrificed their children on the altar of convenience.” I was ashamed – they were talking about me. That day I walked by several men with bullhorns, shouting that women who aborted their children were going to hell. The final straw came later when a friend in my pro-life college group (who didn’t know my history) stated unequivocally that women who had abortions were excommunicated without question. It hurt to go to the March. It hurt to take a pro-life stance with an abortion in my past. I felt like I couldn’t share my past with those I struggled to help.



How far we have come!!! This past year, I had the honor to join Silent No More Awareness Campaign throughout the rally – holding up an “I Regret My Abortion” sign; right next to my sisters and brothers who had withstood the same loss I had suffered. I felt a great sense of gratitude and support standing with them. I didn’t feel ashamed before that vast crowd; I didn’t feel like I had to hide my past. I felt like all those people were there to mourn with me, to cry out for justice with me, and to rejoice in healing with me.



Today, thanks to a better understanding of post-abortion trauma, mothers and fathers of aborted children are helped every day through ministries like ours. The vast majority of friction and static I get about my past comes from those who claim to be pro-choice. I attended the so-called “March for Women’s Lives,” with Silent No More and was openly mocked by the opposing side. We were sneered at, made fun of, and I remember one woman in particular screaming, “You should be ashamed of yourselves!” I have never been less ashamed of myself in my life than when I stand up for my rights, for the rights of the son I lost, for the rights of my sisters and friends and the generations that will come after me.



At a Silent No More Gathering that took place after the March for Life this year, women and men gave their brave testimonies about their abortion experiences. The speakers were completely composed and shared their stories with powerful emotion, but not histrionics. There were tears, but they were gentle, and each participant took time to mention the great healing they had experienced. Many cited Rachel’s Vineyard Ministries as being responsible for the transformation of their hearts and their lives. In contrast was the short-lived protest by NARAL, which featured the screaming of meaningless slogans, and attempts to silence the voices of the very women that pro-choice groups claim to represent. They came and went briefly – their impact hardly felt in the face of the truth we proclaimed.



My most vivid memory of the March this year was a wonderful man who spoke to the assembled women of Silent No More before the Gathering. He held his fist in the air, smiled proudly at those holding “I Regret” signs, and said, “Regret but not shame, ladies, regret but not shame!” His words echoed one theme that must be highlighted – this was not an event designed to revel in the guilt and grief of abortion, but a chance for us as parents who had lost children to abortion to finally have the chance to stand up for our true rights, the right of their children to life, and to decry the lie of abortion. I regret, but I am not ashamed. I cry out, but not in pain – I cry out for justice, and I cry out with the voice given to me by the dedicated representatives of Rachel’s Vineyard who helped heal me from my pain.