"I would have surely perished, had I not seen the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." Psalm 27:13
My mom and I were speechless.
Sometimes, God meets us with mercy in those times when we don't even know how to pray for it.
Sometimes God gives us a gift, a do-over, a second, third, fourth, fifth chance, in that very moment when we really don't deserve it. What I deserved was judgment. . .what I got was mercy. One of my first questions to God when I get to heaven is "Why me??" Why did He choose to save my child over all the millions who have been aborted? God would give me the answer, in part, to this question 20 years later. But for now, I needed to know- what now?
And that was the very question the obstetrician asked me and my mom as we stared at the ultrasound screen, "Do you want to have another abortion?" My mom looked at her with horror and said, "Absolutely not!"
We hightailed it out of there- in shock, but relieved. . .thankful. . .mystified. We came home to tell Pop the news. He sat on his bed and started weeping. His words revealed who had been pleading mercy for me, when I didn't know how. Pop looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "I knew this wasn't over."
What unfolded over the next several days and weeks was the process of talking through the logistics of what had happened and what should happen in the future. We were all the "walking wounded"- thankful beyond words to be given a second chance, but heavy-hearted to face the next 6 months as a pregnant teenager- and the parents of a pregnant teenager.
I was intent on knowing what had actually occured that day in the abortion clinic. . .did the doctor know that the abortion had "failed"? Did these "medical professionals" have any idea of the risk they put a 16-year-old girl into- infection, permanent sterility, even death? I had to know.
I marched into the abortion clinic days later and demanded two things- my medical records and my $200. Looking back, I have no idea why I asked for my money back, except that maybe I thought I would need it to care for my unborn child. The clinic workers quickly gave me both- I was furious and they wanted me out of there quickly. I was bad press for the other girls waiting in the room.
I took my records to my new OB (not one whose hands deliver life and death), so he could confirm what I already knew to be true. The abortion had completely failed- no tissue had been delivered out of my uterus.
Blood had been shed, but a life had been spared.
I was a witness to an honest-to-goodness miracle, straight from the heart of God. My mind quickly formed a picture of my unborn child, with the hand of God cupped around her, protecting her from the foolishness and destruction of my actions. Mercy, grace, redemption and victory were all wrapped up in the tiny body of one unborn child. And it was all because of another child, born into this fallen world, who shed His blood so we could be spared from the grotesqueness of our sins.
I felt like I was 5 again, watching the sunlight streaming in through the window. And in that moment, God begin to heal my shattered heart. His banner over me was Love and I was amazed at the goodness of my Father.
It was then that I begin to do what I should have done all along- seek my Father's will for my unborn child. Do I keep her and try to raise her as a teenage mom? Do I give her up for adoption?
The next couple of months would be the unfolding of more miracles, where God would lead me, my family and people I didn't even know, into the land of His goodness. . .