Conceived in Rape – Babies Lost
Conceived in Rape – Babies Lost
Stories are shared for the purpose of education only and not to be misconstrued as any form of representation of any party by Choices4Life. Women may be contacted through information provided individually.
Too often lies are more influential than truth. Lies hurt and in some cases both physically and emotionally. The severity of these lies have been felt by the women below. They were persuaded that destroying their own babies conceived in rape was the best “choice.” While many have worked through healing none can forget the loss of their babies.
Aborted her baby conceived in rape, and later learned she, herself, had been conceived in rape.
Irene is from the Netherlands and is available for speaking —
email@example.com I regret killing my baby after rape.His strong arms gripping tightly around my neck, strangling me, choking me, left me gasping for breath. I realized death was imminent, so in a split second I chose to let him have his way with my body, so that I could stay alive. Afterwards, I clutched my coat tightly against me, so no one would see my ripped clothing underneath. . . .Although my body started to change, and needing larger clothes, I believed I was not pregnant, as the initial pregnancy test came up negative (not enough hormones yet.)
Aborted her baby conceived in rape, and later learned she, herself, had been conceived in rape.
firstname.lastname@example.org I regret killing my baby after rape.His strong arms gripping tightly around my neck, strangling me, choking me, left me gasping for breath. I realized death was imminent, so in a split second I chose to let him have his way with my body, so that I could stay alive. Afterwards, I clutched my coat tightly against me, so no one would see my ripped clothing underneath. . . .Although my body started to change, and needing larger clothes, I believed I was not pregnant, as the initial pregnancy test came up negative (not enough hormones yet.) But after a 6-week roadshow, a visit to my family doctor informed me I was pregnant. “Oh no!” Shock, disbelief, fear and turmoil gripped me. London advised me to go a clinic halfway north in England for an abortion, mentioning that it had to be done
quickly, as it was on the verge of the time it was allowed to be done legally. Numb, and only focusing on all the fears, I went ahead. My abortion took place in a cold, sinister, old mansion.
I felt very uncomfortable, waiting in the hall with black-white checkered tiles, watching the minutes on the clock tick by. It was as if death hung as
a cloud in the air above me. I did my best to stuff my emotions, signed a paper, received my number, and joined some 8 women lying on beds in a room, waiting a long time after inserting something and changing into an operation garment that was to remain open. As they spoke of their pregnancies, morning sickness, and why they were killing their babies, I began to think. In the lift (elevator) later, when I was going upstairs, I placed a hand over my tummy, finally realizing I had a child inside of me, and said “I’m a mother. I have a baby inside of me!” The nurse accompanying me reassured me, saying “It’s okay – other women have that thought too at the last minute. You’re doing the right thing,” after which the doors opened,
and I walked into a brightly lit operating room, where I was told to lie down, and place my legs up high in the stirrups. But I felt terrible and vulnerable due to the privacy, and even more so as the abortionist became very angry and agitated when the nurse discussed something with him, and he started to yell at me, saying I had already signed a consent form, hadn’t I? And that I was holding up the flow of things. He roughly grabbed my arms, which they strapped down, and forced a needle into my arm, after which I don´t remember much . . . . I passed out.When I came to, I was loudly told to stand. In agony, I gripped my tummy with one hand, doubled with pain, while with the other, I fumbled my way along the dark corridor wall, back to my bed in the other room. The other women were now silent and groaning with pain. My stomach felt as if every inch had been scraped open with a sharp razor blade. We were left alone, and after a long time — I believe the next day — I was allowed to go home, but the pain was unbearable. They offered a wheelchair, but I grit my teeth, saying to myself: “I wanted this, so grin and bear it.” I bled profusely on the
drive home, having to stop every now and then, dizzy, and was in absolute agony. The bleeding lasted half a year.Looking back, I regret my abortion, and the morning after pills I took. If I had realized then, what I now know, I would never have been able to ask to have my baby killed. I came to this awareness after seeing videos of an abortion, seeing a 12 week old baby react to the instruments inside the womb, and seeing the awful pictures of these little humans, where we pull off their arms, break their legs and pull them off, squash their skull, suction out (parts of their) bodies, brains, decapitate them, etc. How can we look at these pictures, with intestines, ribs, brains, heart, backbone, etc., and not call them a human being? Life starts at conception – all the genes, and sex are in the first cell, hair colour, skin colour, etc. which keeps on expanding to 2, 4, 8, 16 cells etc., on till adolescence, when our children are fully grown. I had immense guilt and remorse, after realizing what I had done. I also cut myself off from my emotions, as the guilt was too much to bear, causing problems in relationships later. Later, I read that of women like me, who abort after sexual abuse (=less that 1% of all abortions) that 80% of us regret our abortions. Whereas of the 70% who chose to let their baby live, none
had regrets. I wish I hadn’t killed her.Every mother’s day afterwards, I had to stand still at the fact that I was a mother, even though I had no living child – mother of a dead baby, through my own doing. Emotional trauma — I carried this in silence, not talking about it. I froze when shortly afterwards someone placed their little baby in my arms – who was I to still hold a baby after killing mine? I joined the statistics of having a miscarriage later. I learned that scar tissue from the abortion can cause problems in later pregnancies, and premature births from the damage of the abortion, along with 50% more chance of breast cancer if you don’t carry your first baby to full term, but abruptly stop the milk production process developing by aborting. When my daughter was born later via c-section, my arms were strapped again, just like during the abortion, and all the fear and anxiety came flooding back, at what should have been just a joyous oment. I also find it heart-wrenching to not be able to say to my oldest living child, that she is my first born. And when one day she came home from school, asking if I had ever lost a baby, I was stuck for words – how do you tell a little girl that you ordered her (half-) sister to be killed? How emotionally traumatic for the family of the woman who chose to kill. How unsafe the brother/sister feel — “Why them, and not me?”When I was around 35, I found out I, myself, was conceived in rape. My whole family had known all along, except for me. My father and mother were married, but it was brutal rape. He was totally drunk at the time, and had violently slapped her, all around the room, threw her on the bed, and raped her at force. I was conceived. But my mother tried to commit suicide. When I had been growing in her womb about 6 months, she got on her bike, having premeditated to throw both her and me in front of a train at the railroad tracks a few miles away. She went there, and stood at the side of the rail, but just as the train was approaching, she couldn’t go through with it. I am so grateful she didn’t! Life growing up wasn’t always as nice as it could have been when you hear how some were raised in nice, warm, loving, friendly homes. But . . . , life is not about how we were conceived, or our upbringing, but about what we make of it. There is healing, and I am so glad my mother didn’t have me killed through suicide, when she had the chance. I am so glad that she gave birth to me, and raised me, despite how I was conceived, and that I am alive, and able to now do something for humanity. My value and right to life does not depend on how I was conceived.I have had to come to terms with what I, myself, did. I chose to have someone paid to kill my innocent baby. There was a father (the rapist), a mother (me) and a baby. But I hired a murderer (the abortionist) to kill my baby. I stuffed it away as much as I could for 25 years, but like psychology says, eventually the cesspool of life needs to be opened, and become honest about things we have done in our life. I have named my babies, made a grave for them at the cemetery, and I have found healing with YHWH (God), and His son Yahshua (Jesus), whereby I am now able to testify of what I have
done, and the effects it has brought me, my family and loved ones, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I deeply regret having put my innocent little baby through such torture and painful mutilation, letting her be cut up into pieces while still alive with a beating heart. Killing
an innocent baby is never right, even after rape. Two wrongs don’t make a right. The father harmed me, but I harmed the baby. The
baby didn’t do anything wrong. The baby is a 3rd person. I could have grown to love her, or have her adopted in a loving family. A
baby should not carry the burden of the sin of the parent and be killed for it. In law, if a man kills a pregnant woman, he is punished for
the death of two people. What are we doing killing our own children?I wish people would have told me about the beautiful development of my little one (= foetus in Latin). That before we as mothers even know we are pregnant, 4 days missed cycle, that the baby already has a beating heart at 18-21 days. That at 18 days, their brains start developing, at 20 days with mid-, fore- and hindbrain, and that their brainwaves can be measured at 40 days. That they are sensitive to touch, heat, light, and noise. Pain receptors begin to grow with 4-5 weeks. At 6 weeks, they respond to touch. They have their own DNA, sex, blood type, and fingerprint, making them unique individuals. Beautiful little hands and feet, ribs, mouth, tongue. Sometimes the baby doesn’t die straight away when the killing starts, and the arms and legs are pulled off. An abortionist has testified that the babies heart then still throbs sometimes. Or that they are still alive as they are suctioned out, going through the tube, to die later in the jar. These are human beings, who are not brain dead, or without feeling. If a woman is pregnant, she needs support, not abortion. Many of us (64%) are coerced into abortion (e.g. by boyfriend, mother, father, schoolteacher, doctor, nurse, girlfriend, social worker) according to a study in Medical Science Monitor (www.theunchoice.com). Later in life, I conceived another child, but my boyfriend insisted I abort the baby, or he would leave. I chose the life of my baby, and so he left. Sadly, I miscarried her. But I understand women who are in the situation of being forced to abort – we go against our conscience and our mother instincts, whereby we can feel regret and shame and guilt later, when we fully realize the full extent of what we have done. A baby says: let me live. Take my hand, instead of my life. Love me, instead of kill me. Abortion kills a beating heart. With embryoselection for diseases, we are saying to brothers/sisters “you are only wanted and loved, because you don’t have a handicap.” To the handicapped people, we are actually saying “you are only tolerated, because the technology wasn’t there to eliminate you when you were an embryo” — genocide inside our
laboratories. Remember: God loves you, but also your baby. With abortion, one heart stops beating, but another heart breaks. We either become numb, like I did at first, or the remorse and guilt and shame hovers over us, till we come clean, and find healing. Like Mother Theresa said, “Abortion is the death of two: the baby, and the mother’s conscience.”Please don’t kill your baby. Your baby needs to be allowed to live. Find someone to help you..Irene van der Wende
My parents were missionaries in Africa from France. I grew up in Africa, from a little girl to a woman. The last country we were in was The Congo. There was a revolution and the president was killed. It was war. One night I was coming back from the church and I went to take a shower.
My parents were missionaries in Africa from France. I grew up in Africa, from a little girl to a woman. The last country we were in was The Congo. There was a revolution and the president was killed. It was war. One night I was coming back from the church and I went to take a shower. As I entered my room there was this shadow, a big black shadow. He pushed me on the bed, took the towel off me and I started to scream. As I did I felt something cold against my ribs and he said “There’s gonna be two ways. Either you scream and I kill you and rape you anyway or you just can be quiet. So I decided to be quiet. He did what he had to do and just got up, got into his pants and he laughed. And I think I will always here his laugh til the day I die.
I ran into the shower, washed up and got back to my room before my dad came back. I didn’t want to talk about it. I just couldn’t. The words would not come out. I was there on vacation and I went back to Germany where I was working.
I began to gain weight but was trying to ignore it. I thought it was all the potatoes and good food but it was not. When my parents came back to Europe I knew I had to tell them that I was pregnant. So I did and it was really weird because the person that I was hoping the most for support was my mom. She was the one who let me down the most. She was ashamed of me. I was disgusting to her and I think that’s what hurt the most. What I needed was cuddling and comfort and I didn’t get it.
Since I was such a burden, I didn’t want to be more of a burden. My dad told me “You have your choice. It’s your life you do what you want. You have three options. Keep the baby- raise him. Keep the baby- place him for adoption or have an abortion.” And I decided for abortion right away. I didn’t want to think. I just wanted the problem to go away and my mom not to be ashamed of me. From the second that I made that decision I shut off my brain; I shut off my heart; I shut off everything and I went for it.
Since I was three and a half months pregnant France did not want to do the abortion. So it was only Holland that would perform the abortion. So my mom and I went there.
It was the most terrifying thing that I have ever went through. I will always remember all those women sitting there, reading, embroidering, waiting like they were going to a party or something. They were talking to each other asking, “How many times did you abort?” One said, “Me, two times.” I was listening to them and just didn’t get it.
When it was my turn to go there was a doctor and two nurses. The doctor asked, “What’s your favorite flavor? Do you like mint?” I said, “I don’t really care right now.” Then I smelled mint in the anesthesia and that was it. I didn’t remember anything.
When we went back to France, my father sat me at the kitchen table and said “Ok let’s talk about it. This will be the first and the last time.” So I told him how I felt and that was the last time we talked about it. So after that I just shut it out of my brain. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t wanted to be reminded of it.
The first guy I met I married him. He was not the best that’s for sure. He beat me and after five months I left – pregnant. After that I had a second husband who was very controlling. It has taken me three tries to find the right one but my husband now is the most wonderful thing that could have happened to me. He is the one who has helped me through and to become normal. I’ve forgiven my mother and father for not being there for me. We finally talked with my mom about it all. What I understood is that she hurt so bad that she had to find something. She did the same thing I did. She tried to put the blame on someone else. She couldn’t deal with her feelings. Many times she told me she didn’t believe I was raped.
Now we are close and have a good relationship.
My preacher’s wife said “You are hurting yourself. That man doesn’t care. He’s forgotten you. You’ve allowed him to stay in your life because of unforgiveness.” I thought, “Oh no! I want this guy out of my life.” So I decided to forgive him right then. That was the point of the beginning of my healing.
It is so logical if you think about it because that guy forgot about me but we keep the rapist in our lives by hating him so much and thinking about him all the time. We are only hurting ourselves. Forgiveness ends that and we don’t have to give the rapists our dreams anymore.
I spent years not thinking about the abortion. When I was 24 I wanted to know God for myself. I put away everything that my parents taught me and read the bible from Genesis to Revelation, wanting to know what it meant for me. Slowly all those things I was hiding inside was gently, very gently brought out and I was able to deal with it. God helped me with the nightmares and the depression and that’s really where my healing began.
The date of my abortion has been erased. That’s a blessing really. But it is something like an illness. I don’t like what happened. I was a victim and by having the abortion gave more power to the rapist. That took a long time to forgive. I am the one who killed the baby but my decision gave the rapist a second victim. It’s been 35 years since my abortion in 1977 and I can say I am healing. I not “healed” and I don’t think I will ever be healed. But now I’m on the right track. I can say today “I am a murderer saved by grace.” That rapist has no one more power over me.
I wanted to tell my story about how I got raped. I was with a friend and he wanted me to meet his other friend who at first was fine he was nice and was fun to be around but, later that night he started texted me inappropriate stuff and asking to do stuff for him I kept saying no but he kept persisting. I just put it off cause I thought he would get no.
I wanted to tell my story about how I got raped. I was with a friend and he wanted me to meet his other friend who at first was fine he was nice and was fun to be around but, later that night he started texted me inappropriate stuff and asking to do stuff for him I kept saying no but he kept persisting. I just put it off cause I thought he would get no. Later the next day he said he wanted to talk with me in the bathroom I guess I just assumed he wouldn’t take advantage of me. So I stupidly went into the bathroom with him and then he just pulled down my pants and turned me around and had me bend over and he raped me. He then at one point wanted me to go down on him but I refuse and he tried forcing but then he stopped and finished. He did do so again couple other times before he finally was gone. I was so shocked in the process that I wasn’t able to fight all I was able to do was say stop don’t stop over and over. I should have reported but I was so scared what he would do and I found out that from it I got pregnant and I didn’t want him to know and didn’t want the shame of everyone knowing what happened to me. I didn’t tell anyone what happened so I was dealing with all the pain and shame by myself and I didn’t have my parents to help because I knew they wouldn’t be supportive. So I just kept going on with my life and I wanted to keep the baby because it was my child. I got to see it little peanut body with it healthy heart beat little toes and hands. I wanted to keep the child even though it came about through rape because it is a life and deserves to live. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to give my wonderful child that life. I unfortunately lost the baby in a miscarriage I wish I could have seen him or her and given her life but it was God’s choice that should not be the case. After all this I felt so alone and hopeless and so broken my virginity was forced from me and felt like I don’t have to hold myself like I use too like I didn’t need to be treated with respect like I was dirt and should be treated like one. I hope my story will help other people will understand that even though I was violated and became pregnant through that way that a child is a child and should be given a chance to life.