On the morning of June 24, as I took my last sip of coffee at the kitchen table, I read the news that The Supreme Court of the United States had overturned Roe v. Wade, ending the constitutional right to abortion. Instant relief coursed through my body and tears of joy began flowing.
I am a “post-abortive” woman. Seeing Roe v. Wade overturned in my lifetime is a monumental moment for myself and all of the women who have suffered agonizing and life-altering regret due to abortion.
In 2010, at the age of 18, I had two abortions a mere six months apart. My regret was not instant, in fact, it was years before I truly realized what I had done. It crept in slowly, little by little, taking pieces of me and breaking me in ways that I never imagined possible.
I felt it when a friend or relative would announce a pregnancy or a birth, when I would scroll through social media and see pictures of babies, when I would lie awake at night and wonder what I could have done differently.
I then got married at the age of 21, and truth be told, I soon began to deeply desire the very thing that I had once thought would be the “end” of my life; a family. Within six months, I was pregnant. In the months that followed, I learned just how “alive” my aborted unborn babies had been.
Seeing my baby during our first ultrasound, when I heard my baby’s heartbeat, when I found out that I would be a mother to a precious baby boy, and when I began to feel my child move within my womb. It seemed that everything I had been told about my previous pregnancies being “just a clump of cells” had been a lie. Now, I see it that my abortions were the deadly and irreversible consequences of believing this.
The realization of what I had done took me to a place that almost cost me my life. For years, I silently struggled. I cried myself to sleep night after night. I obsessed over the thoughts of my children. Wondering what their hair would have looked like, how their voices or laughter would have sounded, or who they would have become. The earth-shattering realization that I would never, ever be able to see them or know them in this lifetime took me to the darkest place I had ever been.
Emily Rarick
Two and a half years ago, I began my journey within the anti-abortion movement. Sharing my story was one of the scariest things I had ever done. In the vulnerability of sharing my story, I found hope and forgiveness. I knew that I could never change or take back what I had done, but I could help others to not make that same mistake. I could fight for the inalienable right to life of the unborn. The stories I have heard, the people I have met, the knowledge I have gained, they have all cemented my belief that abortion is inherently wrong.
Throughout this journey, I’ve been told so many times that I am “anti-woman” when in reality it is women that I care so deeply for. I am a woman, and I never want any other woman to have to suffer the way that I have because of the abortions I had.
I now believe that abortion should never have been legalized, and that the blood of my unborn children is on the hands of our government, as much as it is on the hands of the people who performed my abortions and my own. Had abortion not been legal when I had mine, I know that I would have been much more careful to not become pregnant. Moving forward, we need to ensure that people understand the consequences of having sex and that they take personal responsibility for those actions.
Many believe that women who want abortions will now try and access them illegally. I agree that this will happen. So, I believe that the best way to combat it is to provide education and resources to women in crisis pregnancies. I also feel that criminalizing abortion would act as a deterrent for women trying to access unsafe abortions.
For me, this is just the beginning, it is now time to call on the elected officials of our states and ban abortion state by state. Protecting the lives of the unborn is the beginning to the culture of life that so many in the anti-abortion community hope for. One where people in all walks of life have the resources that they need to be able to prosper and live, and where every human being is treated with dignity and respect from the very moment their existence begins.
Emily Rarick is an anti-abortion activist living in Florida. You can follow her on Twitter @emilyrrarick_.
All views expressed in this article are the author’s own.
If you have thoughts of suicide, confidential help is available for free at the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Call 1-800-273-8255. The line is available 24 hours a day.
