Roe V. Wade and the Price Paid

          The response to the overturning of Roe v. Wade takes me back. It takes me back to the generational trauma I was chosen to break. Only possible with and through our Heavenly Father’s mercy and grace. It takes me back to the date January 7, 2003, and those that followed. It takes me back to being a married nurse, mother of two, about to take state boards, when our graduation gift came in the form of two blue lines. I am not a victim. I am a survivor who has done the work to overcome complex childhood trauma. I had to take time to let myself be a victim, in order to heal the wounded little girl, to love that little girl in order overcome the past and heal generational wounds. It has been through the grace and merciful love I am healed and know without a shadow of doubt I am loved. I had to suffer and suffer some more in order to be receptive to the gift of truth. Everything we go through in this temporary place is to form our spirit and sanctify our soul. It’s in learning of His love, commandments, works, and expectations I have seen the truth.  It is revealed to us every day in the cotton candy sunrises and in the clouds that cover the light of the sun. See, it’s the darkness that teaches us the beauty of light. If one does not suffer, how can one truly appreciate the neon oranges and yellows and pinks of a sunrise; no man could ever recreate? How can one truly experience joy, without heartbreak? Yet, knowing true joy and happiness can never be obtained in this world.  It’s nearly impossible to be satisfied if every want and need is fulfilled. It is our duty and obligation to tame our hearts and our minds to seek joy, and welcome every day as the gift that it is. I had to learn how to seek joy; at thirty-six years old.  One thing I often hear myself say is, suffer in silence. It doesn’t mean I do not validate my children and their woes; however, it teaches them to use their complaints to sanctify their young souls offering it up. It’s impossible to see the wonderful works of the world that have been divinely placed if we’re so focused on ourselves. It is in living for others I have found joy.

         Trauma causes damage to the brain, like that of a traumatic brain injury. Trauma taught me that I did not matter. It taught me to be small. It taught me my body was not mine. Trauma taught me I was to remain small, and silent, speak when spoken to, and how to hate; not those around me, but myself. The choices I made along the way led me to a place so dark, it was the love for my children and faith that saved my life. I was so broken I could not see in the total darkness that seemed to follow me and surround me.  In 2020, I was in such a dark place I feared I would extinguish the light God set forth when I was formed in my mother’s womb. I was fine until I wasn’t. I was a survivor until the survivor mode malfunctioned. I started to turn into the very people whose voices were always in my head. I was a lie and failure. I turned into some I hated and I thought my children and my husband would be better off without me. I didn’t recognize the person I had become. PMDD had been something I had struggled with since I was in the 7th grade. I had tried everything to overcome it, but it got worse. Ryan and I briefly spoke with someone in Florida who told us PMDD gets worse with age if there’s unresolved trauma and even unresolved childhood trauma. I was dumbfounded. Why had none of my providers ever told me this? But, I wasn’t a victim. I didn’t repeat the generational mistakes as the women before me. In 2020, I did the most selfish thing I have ever done in my life. I sought professional treatment to heal the trauma I survived. I went out west for intense treatment for PMDD, trauma (losing a child), and complex childhood trauma. I continued treatment back home after a month of inpatient. Followed by an outpatient program for a year and a half. It was intense. The reason I speak so openly about this part of me isn't for pride but it is in humility. My intention in the openness I share is to encourage someone to seek help who might be struggling. If I can come back to a joy-filled life, if I can do it, anyone can. There is an assessment tool called Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) quiz/score. I’ll never forget the time I looked at one of my therapists and asked her what the life expectancy was for someone like me. Healing can bring up flashbacks, realizations, and nightmares. It can take away your identity that was built on lies, manipulation, and abuse. All that is taken away is given back tenfold when one learns to "grow herself back up" in love and light. And again, none of this is possible unless we let go and let God. When we actively seek our redemption miracles happen.  It can be exhausting. I learned that my score was a 7/10. I was 51 times more likely to commit suicide than those who had not survived a childhood like mine. In seeking the help I needed, with my faith always at the forefront, I learned to live joyfully, not just survive. I learned that regardless of what happened, who showed up, who turned their head, who left, who failed me as a little girl, our Heavenly Father’s love never faltered. I had to walk in the darkest of valleys to know grace and mercy. We can let our past shape and define us, but that is a choice. I have learned that forgiveness is the only way to move towards a life lived to glorify God. And sometimes, the most loving thing we can do is to let go and break the chains that hold us captive to trauma and the response(s) that follow. I learned that I have the responsibility to protect my children, they are not mine, but they are a gift. I have learned it is my responsibility to teach, by the way of showing them the way to live for eternal life. In healing from the past, it was mind, body, brain, and soul I was truly set free. It was a whisper, but I heard it like a loudspeaker, and everything started making sense. The science behind trauma responses. The effects trauma has on a developing brain and distorted attachments. In order to live life, truly live, one must have faith. Truth doesn’t contradict science and science doesn’t contradict truth. We were made in the image of God, to love one another, glorify God in the way we live, and bring our spouses and children with us to heaven. Faith has never failed me. My pride, fractured conscience, and selfishness have failed me one hundred percent of the time.

         In January 2003 I learned I was going to be a mom; statistically speaking it was bound to happen. I was eighteen, a college freshman, just failed my first semester, and not married. I had gone to a tanning salon off and on during the semester. There was a Pregnancy Help Center located next to the salon. Never, knowing they would be holding my hand as I called my mom to tell her she was going to be a grandmother. I had been told for eighteen years that I was selfish and did everything in life the hard way, I never thought things through, and I was always a disappointment. I hated school. I had a learning disability that went undiagnosed because it would “be used as a crutch”.  I learned I was stupid. I learned to hate school. I learned that if I did not try, I couldn’t really fail. But the one thing I knew was that I could not fail my child. Becoming a teen mom was the last statistical box I would check. Becoming a mother was something I always wanted. When I was younger, I wanted to be a mom. That was what I wanted to be when I grew up. The kind of mom who stayed home with her children never missing a single school function and helped with homework. I wanted to give what I never had. The moment those lines appeared that evening in January I fell in love. I knew I could never consider adoption. I always knew life was precious. In high school, we watched a film on abortion called, "The Silent Scream". I never judged women who had fallen victim to the lies of abortion. My heart always broke for them. I remember my parents made me go to the doctor. My parents came to the town Ryan and I were living in at the time, and the four of us went to the doctor. They were not supportive. They made their disappointment known. They waited in the car while their daughter and her boyfriend navigated the foreign waters. Ryan and I went to see the doctor. My pregnancy was confirmed. My life would change, needed to change, radically and I would do everything in my power to be the best mother for my child. The ultrasound was over when the male doctor asked me in a condescending annoyed tone, “well what are ya gonna do?” I was taken aback, call it grace or call it naivety, I had no clue what he was talking about; initially. Then it dawned on me. I don’t remember if he asked out loud if I was going to “keep the baby” or if I realized what he was asking, but I remember I was so hurt. The hurt was not for me, but for my unborn child. I could not understand how an OBGYN, after seeing his little heartbeat, could so carelessly ask a question in which the answer could have grave consequences. Being a teen mom is all I know in regard to being a first-time mom. My pregnancy was truly a gift from God. I loved being pregnant. I loved learning all I could about a woman’s body and how it changes to grow another human. I learned all that I could about human development from conception until 40 weeks gestation. We listened to classical music. We read "Love You Forever"  so many times. I learned all I could about "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and "Baby's First Year Week by Week" We learned how to be a team, Ryan and I overcame every obstacle as a team, a little family. We were humbled. Being a teen mom taught me to be less judgmental and more compassionate; poverty can do that to you. It was temporary and it taught us some of the best lessons in life. It wasn’t the first time I had been abandoned, yet this time I had a teammate and our little guy deserved to know love.  Ryan and I went to Mass every Sunday while I was pregnant with Harrison and continued to do so after he was born.  Faith and love were at the foundation of our young family. The three of us did it alone and together with the Holy Spirit and our angels to guide us. We overcame poverty, learned selflessness, got married, we graduated on time with honors (Ryan did), Ryan’s graduation gift was that of a new life growing in my womb and we moved back to Nashville. 

         Becoming a teen mom did not prevent me from reaching my goals, but I learned to live for these little humans who relied on me. I did not do it for myself. I did it for them. I was able to go back to college and become a nurse. I never knew my intelligence until I went back to school and got the tools I needed to learn. I would have never gone to the small private Catholic college if it were not for Harrison and Houston. Growing up we were Catholic on Sundays. It was Aquinas that taught me of the grace, love, and redemption that comes with living a life well lived; guided by faith. I learned how will and intellect and choice interconnect. I learned microbiology and biology through the lens of devotion and awe in our Father’s creation. I learned empathy is far greater than sympathy. Sympathy is selfish. I learned understanding and love for those under your care. I learned hard work is never easy, but not impossible. I fell in love with nursing. He was an LSU fan with Parkinson’s and rarely spoke but had a wit and charm when he did. I learned that love is a choice, and we can conquer anything with love so long as the intent, means, and the end are pure. I had finished nursing school when we learned we were going to be parents for the third time. Life was in full swing. We had a fire where we lost everything. I did not even have shoes on my feet it happened so fast. But it was in losing all material possessions, we gained far more than we lost. There were birthday parties and soccer games, Thomas the Train, Lightening McQueen, and football helmets worn much like a blanket carried around. https://adalynnediorsdivinejourney.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-girl.html  

 

Five weeks, that’s how long we lived in our pink bubble bliss. We found out we were having a girl at fifteen weeks. We had five weeks to blissfully dream about raising two big brothers and a little sister and how wonderful they would be. I had five weeks to decide her nursery needed to be black and white due to contrast and the visual development of infants, but it would have to have pops of hot pink. I fell in love with our daughter while my boys were falling in love with their little sister. Tuesday, September 15, 2009, was our anomaly scan. It was during the noon hour I learned, as a pregnant mother and wife, how much it hurts to hear an OBGYN say, “you don’t need to be alone.” God always has a plan and I believe there are people we are aligned with to cushion the heavy burdens we’re chosen to carry. My OBGYN shared the same faith and knew how devout I was to my faith and respected my devotion. I went from a regular routine scan straight to a specialist, because Adalynne’s heart was broken, and her kidneys had bright spots among other things. I also learned that Charlie Brown’s teacher’s voice can sound just like an OB when what they have to say is too much to take. I knew I could breathe, so that was what I focused on…just breathe. We learned that Adalynne was truly a gift and that every minute she was with us was borrowed time. Planning a funeral for a child who is very much alive in my womb was surreal. On October 6, 2009, I was able to plan her funeral by the grace of God. The strength that carried us through was truly divine. It did not come from me. I had this little light, not of mine, but I did not shade its shine.  When we were getting the second and third opinions, on the intake forms I would make sure on the top of my forms said, “Catholic, will not abort DO NOT ASK”. The doctors asked and asked, they called it termination and interruption. Interruption? When I am interrupted in a task  I have the option to start again. When a heartbeat is deliberately stopped, it isn't an interruption it's playing God in killing a child. One lie was that it would be best for me and Adalynne to interrupt the pregnancy. I thanked God for my faith and prayed for the Godless doctors who tried to make me feel stupid for protecting my child and her shortened life. Adalynne had a 0.013513513514% chance of having trisomy 13, but she had a 100% chance of remaining safe within my womb. In 12 years the life expectancy statistics have changed and the outcome remains the same. She was a gift, regardless of her imperfections. Her life was not mine to give nor was it mine to take. God places people in our lives to bestow wisdom and Dr. William Long has been one of many. We called him Bill. I loved Bill. He was so proud of the young mother I was, seeing as he was my pediatrician growing up. My stepdad called him Bill, so as an adult I did too when our boys were his patients. I trusted him. Ryan and I went to talk to him about navigating the loss of the boys’ little sister. This was something we could not protect them from, but we would make sure we had the tools needed to mourn the loss of a sister. One thing he said was, to honor her and her life within your body; give her the dignity she deserves. It was like he could read my mind, “What would it hurt if I drank wine or ate lunch meat or sushi?” I knew then that it did matter. I sustained her life, and she deserved the same respect and dignity as my boys.  I believed in miracles, but I had been conditioned to deem myself unworthy of asking for one. The only thing I asked for was the grace to walk in humility and love, knowing my child’s chance of seeing the outside of the hospital was so slim we did not buy a car seat. Living life in preparation for the Kingdom of Heaven and as God asks of us, there’s no regret or self-hatred. There is a lot of sacrifices, but if I look at a crucifix I am quickly humbled. Our rights are not placed, nor can they be taken away by man. Our human dignity and rights are from God and God alone. Just because one does not believe in God doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist, nor does it mean they are exempt from the consequences of sin. If we fall for the lies of this world, that is where we will stay. The keys to the kingdom are set forth for everyone; however, it is living for eternity we find the keys fit for our Heavenly King and his gates. We are all invited, but have we done what is asked of us to ensure the keys unlock the gate? https://adalynnediorsdivinejourney.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-girl.html

Jesus loves children. It’s our duty to bring our children to him.  Jesus literally said if anyone leads a child to sin, and away from him, they should swim with the fish. That sounds more like the mafia the savior of men. 

“but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.” Matthew 18:6