Katrina Fernandez, who blogs at The Crescat, has courage.
She also has wit, enormous talent and a great, big, loving heart.
I love Katrina’s blog. She has this ability to touch my girl side, the female giggly part of me, and get it rockin’.
Yesterday, she touched that other girl side, the one that has given life; the mothering, maternal, deeper than bone totally female part of me. Katrina wrote about her abortion, the experience and the grief afterwards. Good people grieve when they have harmed someone else. Katrina is a good person who grieved much.
She is also a wonderfully gifted writer who has the courage to let her own sorrows become beacons of truth and honesty for others. Who knows how many babies this post will save, or how many grieving young women will read it and find their own healing in Christ.Here are a couple of paragraphs from How the Nine Days of Prayers Comforted Me While I Fought Demons. You can read the rest here.
What happened next was sheer panic. I never wanted to have an abortion, I was just stupid and believed there was no other choice. No other way. And it was just a clot. A big menstrual clot. That’s what they told me. Yet that glass container told me otherwise. And I suddenly felt every urge to run from the room screaming, but I was frozen in place. When a staff member came back into the room she found me still standing there clutching that sheet and staring at the vacuum.
Something inside me clicked off and I mentally shut down. I allowed her to guide me to the table and the procedure was started. When the abortionist [I will never call them doctors] came into the room he didn’t even acknowledge me but when he wheeled that vacuum over toward the table and switched it on I sat upright and tried to jump off the table. No hell no, I thought. But it was too late.