Aborted Women: In Their Own Words

Too late

by Stephanie Amos
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I am a mother of a two year old. I am 18 years old. I encourage those who have had an abortion to turn to God. Through Him you will find the comfort for the pain you have. He is the only one who knows your pain. Please write to me and feel free to call when ever you need someone.

I made a web site in memory of my son and for all the women out there, women who have been where I am and for ones considering abortion.

Please write me at steoh_abster@hotmail.com or call at 1-502-799-0790 I can call you immediately right back so your bill is not high. If I am not home please leave your name and number i will call you back as soon as possable. My name is Stephanie Amos.

Jan 19, 2004

The last day I have with Jr. I keep rubbing my stomach, talking to him. Singing to him, hoping he won't forget the sound of my voice. Praying God will prevent me from going tomorrow. Crying God will hear me.

Jan 20, 2004

Goodbye Baby Boy

I woke up at 5 am. I got sick one more time on the way to Cincinnati. They gave me an I.V. and told me my iron was down but not to worry about it. The doctor was late flying in from another clinic. She got the first trimesters "out of the way" quickly. I was given two white pills to put between my lip and gums to desolve.They were given to me at separate times. A women beside me was talking about how inconvenient it was that the doctor was late because she had to get it over with and drive two hours to get home. They called me back into a small room. There was no room to move around. The female doctor came in, and asked me a few questions. She said she was going to numb my cervix, right after she said that she began the procedure. The first time she went in with a tool I felt Jr move, he jerked. I was already crying but i totally lost it. I wanted to tell her to stop, I wanted to protect Jr. but it was to late. The nurse beside me wiped my tears away, as another nurse watched the killing of my baby on an ultrasound screen. I felt everything, the pain was worse then having my daughter natural. I heard her chop him up (it sounds almost like two clothes hangers rubbing together), fluids rushing out, then she turned on the vacuum. She scrapped the the insides of my stomach until I thought I was going to die. I heard the vacuum stop and she took it out, then they saw something and it started all over. I passed out from the pain.

When I woke up the nurse was still wiping tears from my face. The doctor left leaving the door open as I lay there half naked. The nurses told me to sit up, but I said I was too dizzy. One nurse took my I.V. out. As she held my arm, I couldn't feel her touch. They sat me up even though I was dizzy and felt sick. Right in front of me was Jr. in this big Jar. It was completly full from him and fluids. The nurse saw my face and quickly stood in front of me while the other got ready to take him out. The nurse who wiped my tears removed the tray under me and dumped it down the sink, using the garbage disposal. She handed me wipes and slid the trash can over to me. It had no top and was completly full of the wipes from the women before me. She quickly got me dressed, then she carried my shoes as she rushed me into the recovery room after they gave me shots. The woman in the recovery room got upset with me because I couldn't take the pills -- I felt like I was going to get sick. So, she gave me papers and told me to fill out the "important papers" until I felt better. I told her it would only get worse if I tried to read right now. I asked her for a few pretzels to help my stomach and she gave me 5 while saying "it won't help". She sat back down and a few seconds later she was asking me for my pills because they had given me one in a shot form. She quickly took the pill back. Then she had me take the rest. My stomach hurt so bad. The important papers she wanted me to fill out were a clinic survey on the staff, doctor, etc. She took my blood pressure when I first went into the room. After about 10 minutes she had me go check my bleeding. There was none. She let me leave.

On the ride home I felt gushes. My stepfather pulled into a gas station. I went to the bathroom, sat down and couldn't even feel myself pee. I had no control over my bladder. When I stood up I saw all the blood in the toilet; it looked like I had just bled to death. It was everywhere. Feeling Jr. try to get away, I knew it was too late to save my son. It's hard for me to understand that he is no longer in my stomach. Now he is in Heaven. I'm home, still dizzy, still in so much pain. I miss my baby. I wonder if he knows I love him. I can't beleive I let the world decide his fate, and I can't believe I couldn't save him.

I have prayed to God for forgiveness. I talk to Jr. a lot. God gave me a special gift, He gave me Jr. I was supposed to protect him. I love him so much. In my death I pray God will let me see my baby, let me hold him and kiss his forehead. I regret losing my baby. It hasn't gotten any easier in my head. I know a day won't go by that I dont think of him and regret what I let man do to me and him. I miss him. I pray to see him while I am asleep yet nightmares are all I receive. It hurts knowing I will never see him or hold him. I wonder if he is ok. The thought of him being without his mommy and missing me kills me inside. God only knows how much I love and miss him. I want him back so badly safe inside my womb. I am so unworthy. All this makes me wonder if I have the ability to be a good mother to Abby. If I ever lost her I would die. I've lost my son, I can't handle losing her too. Losing a baby kills one's insides. My heart is so broken. I'll never be the same. A huge part of me is gone. My son is gone, my baby, my innocent little baby that only needed love and protection. I couldn't protect him. I couldn't stop them. He was so scared and I couldn't protect him. It was too late. I failed him. My heart hurts so bad. He was the victim of this world and I failed him. My poor baby. I want to see him, want to hold him. Garth Brooks song when you come back to me again reminds me of him. I miss him. I feel so empty.

AFI's song silver and cold is my song to my baby boy.

Jan 22, 2004

If tears could bring back my son he would be here, safe in my tummy. I miss him. This pain is getting no better. How do I get over losing him, losing my baby? How, when I am so afraid of forgetting him, forgetting how it felt when he would move around. Seeing him stretch on the ultrasound. Ive had nightmares for three nights now. I just want him back. How can one let go? What do I do? My baby -- God, I want him back. God, bring him back please.



Mike will be here tomorrow. My mind has been on you constantly. Please forgive me baby for what I did. I miss you so much. I love you baby. You're in a safe place, surrounded by love. I hope you get my kisses I send. I talk to you a lot. I pray you hear me. I have no right to call myself your mother for what I have done. If tears could turn back time I would still have you. I love you. Please don't forget that. I keep thinking back to that day how I kept getting sick, I believe it was you begging me not to go. Then, feeling you try to get away my poor baby I am so sorry. I am living in a nightmare I can't wake from. I want you back so much. I want to show you how much I love you. I want to sing you to sleep and hold you. I am sorry. I am going to be forever haunted by what I have done. I guess it is only right. I love you Jr. Hopefully I will be able to be your mommy in Heaven and do everything I want to do. Everything a mother should do.

I love you,


Jan 23, 2004

To know my baby died is enough. To learn the first thing they did was to rip him apart then crush his skull kills me.

Jan 28, 2004

I went to the E.R. on the 25th, because I was passing blood clots the size of a small fist. I called the clinic I had the abortion at and they said it was normal. So I went to sleep at 3 am and woke up and changed my pad again and my bloody clothes at 3:30 am. I was going through 2-3 pads per half hour. I couldn't move a muscle or a clot would come out. I put a towel under me then went back to sleep. After all, the clinic said it was normal. At 8 am I woke up, told my husband to watch the blood on the bed. (It soaked through my clothes and the folded towel onto the bed.) I walked to the bathroom and passed out. My husband woke me up and I was on the floor -- I didn't even make it to the bedroom door. I went to the bathroom while he went to get my mother. I passed five huge clots in a row. My mother came in and I passed out in her arms. She and my stepdad carried me into the my bedroom. I woke up burning up. I kept asking if I was going to die. I felt like I was. I was carried to the car. My heart beat was normal laying down but when I stood up it went to 142 and my blood pressure went down to 75/36 from 99/40. I lost a third of my blood and was severely anemic. I had to go to surgery on the 26th, a D&C and a laposcopy. That would be a D&E and a D&C in one week. My tongue and gums were white and my lips were the color of my skin. I just got home today. After ten IVs, nine times having my blood drawn. I almost died. If my husband wasn't there to wake me up and get help I would have died. I was on the verge of needing a blood transfusion. I had a blood count of 7. It is supposed to be 12. I told my mom when I passed out to give my daughter a kiss for me and to tell her I loved her. I was afraid of not waking back up, I was so scared.

Feb 27, 2004

I am going to destroy my marriage. I am so messed up inside. I can't even grieve but in bits and pieces because of Abby. I take everything out on Michael. My everything has become my verbal punching bag. I can feel myself falling apart. And there is nothing I can do about it. I try to ignore it, run away from this pain, but there is no escape. I can't live with this pain, it is eating me alive. And I am destroying every close one around me. What if my husband realizes I am nothing at all but pain. If only he was there that day, felt Jr. move, saw him like I had. Maybe he would understand my pain. I wish he could have seen him alive, felt his little movements. A battle is going on inside my head, inside my heart. It makes me want to die, to know I will always have this pain, always this emptiness. An emptiness even Michael can't fix, only Jr. I would have been 20 weeks pregnant today. Someday I can fight back the tears. But other times I can't stop them.

There is a passage in the Bible I wrote in my journal. It is how I feel right now. Psalm 38, sorrow of sin.

March 6, 2004

My heart screams with pain. I will never be the same, not after what I have done. I close my eyes and I see the clinic's doors. If only I could turn back time. Have my son back. 21 weeks and 2 days I would have been. Nothing's getting easier. I am Jr's gravesite. He died in me, he was murdered in me. I am his tomb, his grave my tattoo is his saying and name plate. I am only 18 years old. The greatest pain a women can ever feel is the lose of her child. Only I was the cause, they couldnt have killed him if I didn't go to the clinic. He was in me, I was supposed to protect him. Why did this happen? If I would have stood up. If I would have done what I wanted. To leave the clinic, to not kill my son. I wanted him. I love him. I need him. My little boy. My baby. Everything I believe in, my morals, my views, everything I am about I have destroyed. I destroyed myself when I destroyed my son.

I would also like to mention to all the people saying it was "your choice": I admit that yes it was -- because I was the one in the end that went to the clinic. I never said it wasn't. I did say, however, that I was cornered into it by being told it was the only way to "fix" things.

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Posted 24 May 2004.

Copyright 2004 by Stephanie Amos
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