• Remembering Tommy

    On Friday August 25, 2006 I chose to “say goodbye early” to my very much wanted baby boy at 14 weeks pregnancy after having received a Trisomy 18 diagnosis (also known as Edwards Syndrome). When I think back to the sequence of events that lead to that tragic “choice,” I cannot help but wonder where were the paths to hope that would have enabled me to choose life? I bear my own responsibility in authorizing the death of my child, but my choice was not made in isolation. The medical profession and the church were also active participants towards his

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  • My Darkest Hour

    Ten years ago my husband and I traveled to Kansas to have an abortion. Even now, after all these years, I try of think of another way to phrase it. Could it really be that we killed our very wanted child? Yes, unfortunately, that is exactly what we did on February 7, 1996.

    We already had a son. He was almost two years old. We were ecstatic to be having another baby. The whole time I was pregnant I was envisioning what it would be like to have 2 beautiful babies. I couldn’t wait!

    All along though, I felt something

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  • Burying My Aborted Baby

    I’ve often heard people speak about the torment of losing a child. The indescribable feelings of loss and grief. The birthdays not celebrated, the graduations, weddings, the hugs, laughs and tears shared But, there is an added torment for some of us, the torment of being a parent who was responsible for their child’s demise.

    On November 15 of 2001, I aborted my daughter because we were told she had severe mental and physical deformities and was not going to have good “quality of life”- whatever that means. My baby was full term when she was killed. After the abortion,

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  • It Couldn’t Happen to Us

    When we found out I was pregnant, we were ecstatic. We wanted to do everything right; eat well, sleep a lot, ponder the sex, and its name. We had gone to a highly recommended doctor, asked all the right questions and giggled with glee at home over the thought of our soon-to-be offspring. I remember calling my dad and saying, “we passed the Downs Syndrome test. Thank God.” It wasn’t until a few weeks after that, that I received a message at work from our MD that we had a marker. I was confused. I immediately called my mom in

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