There was a time, back in the day, when abortion was illegal in the United States of America. I vaguely remember the first time I learned about abortion. I was a young girl and I was horrified. I was raised to be a good Catholic girl and quite frankly, I can’t remember if my being appalled by this procedure was because of the way it was explained to me or if it was because it was the feeling that came from the core of a pure heart who couldn’t fathom the idea of someone deliberately ending what I considered to be a life.
I was unmovable in my beliefs. The year was 1969 and the legalization of abortion was a hot issue…an issue that was tearing apart families and friends. I went to a Catholic all girl’s high school and to my dismay, most of my girlfriends were pro-choice. How could this be?
I would passionately and vigorously debate the issue of abortion, despite the unchanged minds of my classmates. I was sure that our government would never let a law pass that would kill innocent human beings. In 1973, it did.
I became a born again Christian at the age of 19. Among my born again friends, I found camaraderie among my fellow fanatics. The “world” was ill informed and lost in its self-centered and sinful ways.
I did what any good Christian/Catholic girl does. I got married at the age of 23. Four years later, my husband and I started our family and I had four children in under six years (believe it or not, I did believe in birth control. Let’s just say I’d been blessed with fertility despite all odds).
When my children were young and the demands were great, I needed some outside interaction. I joined a pro-life group and became their Public Relations Director. The group was not political in nature and had no agenda about changing the abortion laws. Our services offered women free pregnancy tests (this was before the day where you could buy pregnancy tests at the local grocery store). If the test was positive, we offered the woman practical and emotional support if they chose to carry their pregnancies to term.
I worked in a small office near the campus of the University of Colorado. We had a large demand for our services from the young women who attended the college. Many women were mortified to find out they were pregnant and were adamant about getting an abortion.
I didn’t have a spiel to dissuade them. When they would ask me where they could go to get an abortion, I would gently tell them that this was an organization that existed to support them if they decided to have their babies. I also reassured them that they lived in a town where there were many safe clinics that would meet their needs should they choose to terminate their pregnancies.
I was criticized for this by some of my fellow pro-lifers. But deep in my heart, I knew I couldn’t judge their decision because I had never been in their shoes. Ever.
Internal change and conflict began whirling inside me in my early 30’s. I ignored the whispering voices that were begging me to question, to doubt, to reconsider….ANYTHING.
I went to speak at the local high school. I was pitted against the local director of Planned Parenthood. The gymnasium was packed with at least 500 kids.
I stood there with my permed hair and red ruffled shirt and pleated skirt. I spoke in a firm voice and told the students why I was against abortion, that I wasn’t trying to change the laws, that the group I represented was there to help any of them should they find themselves with an unwanted pregnancy.
I was no match for the woman from Planned Parenthood. Verbally, she kicked my butt. She was equally compassionate and was able to offer all I had and more. When we were each finished speaking, she was mobbed by eager young women reaching for her handouts and her warm smile. I stood there alone.
One young woman stormed up to me, her face red and angry. She told me in no uncertain terms that she didn’t appreciate me trying to control her life, her decisions. How dare I? As my face turned the shade of my shirt, I stammered and stuttered. I didn’t want her to see me that way, it wasn’t who I was. I didn’t have a chance. She whirled around and stomped away…away towards the woman from Planned Parenthood, the woman with the peaceful face.
I had a headache that soon morphed into a migraine. It lasted for 3 days. The whisperings got louder and louder …please Mary…question, doubt, reconsider…ANYTHING.
The whisperings that were turning into a roar were causing me anxiety and I distracted myself once again with the daily routine of life and the lives of my children.
Then the Evening happened. The Evening when I left my home and my three young children (ages 4, 3 and 2) behind. I was feeling happy and strong. It had been an intense several years and things seemed to be calming down. I was feeling free and independent.
I was going to speak at a local church about the pro-life organization. As I was collecting information packets, it occurred to me that my period was a couple of days late. For a moment, I shrugged this off. No way I could be pregnant. I had used birth control that month. Well, there was that one night on the 23rd day of my cycle when I got lazy. I had felt ovulation pains on the 13th day. No need for anything on the 23rd day. Right? RIGHT?
The test took three minutes. I had no worries. Hmmmm, mmmmm, hmmmm, I’m humming along gathering my materials. Then, oh yes, that test. I walked over and glanced down to see the BIG BLACK CIRCLE in the middle of the small panel.
Instantly, I was out of breath, my heart was racing, I was sick to my stomach. Everything in the room closed in on me. I was pacing, I kept rechecking the results of the mocking test, I couldn’t breathe.
What I didn’t do was pray. No way I was going to pray. I was mad. I was fed up. No prayer for me that night.
I called the director of the pro-life group and told her that yes, I’m sorry, I know it’s 7:00 on a Friday night, but no way can I go speak to that church group, no way. If I go to speak to that church I will get up, look them all straight in the eyes, and say, “I just found out I’m pregnant and I WANT AN ABORTION!”
My director, the most loving of women, calmed me down and told me no worries, she would go speak to them. Call my husband, go take care of myself, she’d talk to me in the morning.
I drove around for hours that night. While I knew that I would not choose to end my pregnancy, my initial reaction startled me. I was happily married, there was a semblance of financial security, I loved my husband. I was going to have a fourth child. But there were those first few moments when I wasn’t sure. There were the first few moments where I thought to myself, “You don’t have to tell anyone. You could just get this taken care of.”
I was thinking all these things and I was the frigging public relations director of a pro-life agency!
Life went on and beautiful fairy child Cassie was born. I can’t imagine my life without her. But that wasn’t the point. As time went by, the black and white life I had so carefully constructed began to turn shades of gray.
A colorful painting and an encounter with a dying AIDS patient, the death of my father at the tender age of 65, the divorces of my sisters, the struggles and humanity of my friends, my own internal conflicts…all transpired to wake up this dogma-bound heart.
A frozen heart melted is a thing of beauty.
Like an iceberg that breaks away from the ancient glacier, I floated alone for a while with my thoughts that were once at war with one another. As the thawing of my rigid beliefs dissolved, I drifted with the once forbidden thoughts. I gave them air and I gave them space. I allowed myself to feel the discomfort of the thoughts that only wanted to help set me free.
And finally it came. How could I judge what was right for another woman? How could I ever want a law to be changed that would put a woman in harm’s way or god forbid, at the hands of a rusty coat hanger?
How could I be any part of shaming someone whose shoes I had never walked in?
The choice of abortion has been made by many of those that I love passionately…friends, relatives, children of friends and my clients.
It took me awhile to say that I was “pro-choice.” It felt like an abomination, a blasphemy. Brain washing is no easy process to undo, but gradually I did, day after day, month after month.
I sometimes shame myself for the rigid life I lived. But all my experiences have given me the wisdom, insight and compassion I have today.
The Bible says that the Truth will set you free.
It is one of the few things that I still agree with.
Mary T. Kelly | Contributor
Mary T. Kelly AKA Mary Kelly-Williams is a writer and psychotherapist who has been working with individuals, families and couples for over 15 years in Boulder, Colorado. Mary is a regular contributor to Salon.com, Open.Salon.com, StepMom Magazine, Psychology Today and Fabulously40.com. She has published articles in local and regional magazines (Denver Divorce Magazine, Women’s Magazine, Boulder, CO, Catholic Family Magazine, Chicago, Illinois). Kelly-Williams co-authored the book “Hot Women, Hot Flashes” published by Marabout Publishers (French translation). Mary appeared as a therapist and life coach on the A&E Series, “God or The Girl”.
