I feel like I’m speaking for all
mothers. I want to say to my
daughter and to every daughter
who ever felt pressured to abort by
her mother, I’m sorry. I had no
right to ask that of you.
I had no right to insist that you
choose between your love for your
baby and your love for me or your
father. I honestly thought it would
help to save the future we always
wanted for you. I never imagined
how it could affect you forever.
Can you ever forgive me?
For myself, and all fathers, to all of our
children who were too afraid to tell us
about their pregnancies—too afraid to
face our disappointment, or even our
anger—I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I made you feel that you
had to be perfect. I’m sorry that when
you were a child, I didn’t build up
enough trust in you so that you would
know that your mother and I would have
stood beside you.
Given some time to adjust, we would
have helped. We would still have loved
you, and been proud of you, and been
proud of our grandchild.
But we failed you. We failed to give
you the confidence to have your child and
to rely on us.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for not
having been there
for you. I was
afraid, confused....
I’ve never forgotten you or our baby.
Speaking for all the men who skipped out
on the women who trusted us, urged an abor
tion, or simply didn’t fight hard enough for
our relationships with both you and our chil
dren, I’m sorry.
I’ll always be sorry.
I want to tell my boyfriend, whose baby I
aborted, I’m sorry.
I did it without even telling you,
except afterwards...just to make you feel
the same hurt I was feeling.
For myself, and all of us women who have used our abortions
to dump on men, I’m sorry. We were just so confused, frightened,
and hurting.
I was prejudiced. I just
assumed that having a baby,
in your situation, was auto
matically a bad thing. I
encouraged or went along
with the abortion because it
was easier than helping you
to find a better solution.
As a medical procedure, abortion is easy
to do. The alternative—helping people to
welcome a child into the world—is hard.
That takes time and commitment.
It was easier for me just to offer you an
abortion—cheap love. I’m sorry.
What you really wanted was help. I took
the easy way out.
I’m sorry that I encouraged you to abort. I know I
made it sound so easy.
What I didn’t tell you was that I had buried my
own pain about abortion. I wanted to convince myself,
as much as you, that my abortion wasn’t so bad.
Worse, in encouraging you to abort, and seeing
you abort, I was somehow hoping that your abortion
would make me feel a little bet
ter. After all, I liked you, and if
you also had an abortion, then
somehow that was proof that I
could still be likable too.
As you can tell, I was really
messed up.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for all the times I was insensitive.
I’m sorry for the times I did not speak on abortion when I had a chance to shape your future choices.
I’m also sorry for the times when I did speak on abortion without emphasizing God’s love for you, and
my love for you.
Instead, I only said how wrong it was—piercing your soul with words of blame—when what you really
needed was a gentle word, a reminder that we all make mistakes. We all fall short.
But our God is so loving that if we run to Him when we fall, He will always tend to our wounds and
make us whole again. This is what I knew. This is what I wanted to share with you. But so often, the words
never came out right. I’m sorry.
Allow me to speak for every minister of every denomination who has ever failed you: I’m sorry. Every
minister of God tries to faithfully preach both God’s law and His mercy. But so often we end up preaching more of one than the
other, and the message becomes unbalanced.
Please, forgive us our failings, just as God will surely forgive you yours.
Hope and Healing
Educational Insert
afterabortion.org