Forced to Become a Mother

I need to be very clear. This post is not being written on behalf of SGM. It is purely my own.

My heart is aching as I type through tears. Never have I been so struck by the blatant brokenness we are experiencing…and many times walking numbly through on planet earth. Even as I type, I know that my words will not be understood by many. They may be twisted unrecognizable from their intent. They may sting an already gaping wound. For those walking through raw grief…for any wounded by my words in any way, I am so sorry. But whether or not I choose to hit the “Publish” button, the words beg to be released.

There is a hashtag movement called #ShoutYourAbortion trending “to break the stigma and shame of abortion.” The haunting words grieve my spirit in the deepest hidden places. As a woman. As a mother. Not in a self-righteous “How could you” way but in a truly broken-spirited, sorrowful moan of pain. For the friends I dearly love who felt they had no other choice. For the women who have grieved that choice. For others who celebrate it. For those who valued the life growing within their womb…and for those who will never know how much that tiny life would’ve impacted planet earth. And, most of all…my spirit grieves for the women desperate to become a mother and the mothers who have watched their much-wanted babies die helplessly.

My heart aches for all of us. Stumbling here, in this place. Missing the gifts the Giver of Life so generously bestows. Gifts full of grace and beauty and love, even amidst our most hideous displays. Even when we spit in the face of His gifts. Even then, He loves.

You may not know my Jesus. I get that. Not everyone does. And, yet here we co-exist in mutual respect and love…even if we do not understand one another. You may not want to be my friend after this. I understand that He has been so misrepresented by so many…that so much evil has been done in His name…that you may be offended by the very sound of it.

But, those haunting words being tweeted in an outcry by the multitudes. They can’t be left hanging in the air without a response. My words will unlikely be read…and even if they are, they will likely be misconstrued and may even cause unintended harm. They won’t change your mind if you disagree, and they aren’t intended to. But, for those grieving with me in silence…may they know they are not alone. And, for my own heart…I must not remain silent. Not about this.

One of the originators of the hashtag movement mentioned above said this:

“Having an abortion made me happy…why wouldn’t I be happy that I was not forced to become a mother?”

I don’t believe she speaks for every woman who made the agonizing choice to end her baby’s life. I don’t believe most women make that choice lightly. But, those words, regardless of where you stand on this issue. Those words, for me, transcend politics and opinions. Those words cut to the core of my heart as a woman. As a mother. As someone who spends a great of deal of time walking with mothers who were forced to bury their much-wanted, dearly valued babies…someone who was a teenage mother, whose own mother spared my life when she was a teenage mother herself, and bestowed grace on me in the moment that I deserved shame. My mother taught me that all babies are blessings, no matter how they come. I know not everyone feels that way. But, it is a core belief of my heart that every life is a gift to be treasured….that babies shouldn’t be viewed as burdens, and motherhood is something to be honored not squandered. So many long to be called mother. It is not a judgment on another person’s choices for me to say that in the deepest depths of my soul, I mourn the fact that our culture would celebrate such an idea. Truly…have we fallen so far that we must speak words that would so deeply wound one another? Blatant words of disregard for life. How does that lift us up as women? How are we empowered by tearing one another to pieces with disregard for the destruction left behind?

Forced to become a mother?

Choosing to become a mother was the greatest gift of my life. In fact, having my son as an eighteen year old saved my life. I gave up going to college to pursue a career in journalism or acting, or whatever to be the mother of five of the greatest people I know. What I “gave up” was nothing compared to what I gained. If you feel differently, I don’t expect you to understand how grateful I am to be the mother of my first born son, my last born son…and the three children in between who lived briefly on this earth before going home to heaven. Being their mother is the most incredible adventure. It has made me more than I ever could’ve been on my own. Taught me more of love and life and grace and beauty and the gloriousness of dying to self and serving another human being. It is worth a thousand…ney a million careers. It is worth infinitely more than I know to describe…the sheer undeserved gift of being their mother.

Some of the words I read were cruel and harmful, not lifting up…but tearing down. Speaking of babies not able to feel pain, in the name of science. I’ve never known science to prove that. In fact, I’ve held 22 week old babies in my hands, watching their hearts beat through the thin skin covering their tiny chests. They lived. They felt. They mattered. I’m sorry if my saying the babies I’ve loved and cared for matter hurts a mother who feels differently about her baby. But, for the sake of so many mothers who stood broken over tiny graves, it must be said. It isn’t only in defense of bereaved mothers that my heart breaks over the diminishing of the value of motherhood happening in our culture…it is also for the mothers who value the children they’ve held above everything else this world has to offer. For those who do not know the treasure of that gift…whose words perhaps in defense of their own position, and maybe not intended to be used for wounding another…cut deeply to the core of everything I hold dear. It may offend you for me to say so. But, for all the mothers who stand wounded and weeping, grieving anew at this latest outpouring of division…it must be said.

Whatever your broken places, I pray you find grace and healing. That you know that nothing can separate us from His love. Nothing. And, I pray…where ever you stand in the ruins of this battlefield where no one wins…you would be set free from whatever binds you. That we would learn together that nothing is ever gained by destroying one another.

He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives,
And the opening of the prison to those who are bound;

To comfort all who mourn,
To console those who mourn in Zion,
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.”
Isaiah 61

Comments

  1. Diann Brown says:

    You touch my heart, Kelly. May God continue to bless you and give you voice that touches us all!

  2. You are amazing. Thank you for writing this, and sharing your heart because it is beautiful. I was forced to become a mother also, 19 and married and 5 weeks after the wedding I was holding a positive pregnancy test. Even though all I ever wanted to be when I grew up was a mom, 19 and newlywed was not at all what I had planned. And I gave it all up, to be his mom, and then to go on to be his 5 siblings mom, including our sweet daughter in Heaven. And I am SO thankful. So so thankful. I could have gone on to do so many “other”things, things that others may deem more important or “better” had that baby not snuck his way in, but oh, what I would have missed… And, I am rambling. I think you are amazing for the grace you show on this matter, even though it is a very difficult subject to breach, whether we’ve burried babies or not. Thank you, again

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