By Christian
It’s not rocket science; behind every abortion there is a Dad.
My girlfriend and I had been dating on and off since we were 16. We left for college in two different cities in France. She was in Paris, and I was in Montpellier, about 500 miles south of Paris. I wouldn’t have called it a stable relationship. There was no marriage on the horizon, and we weren’t even really in love.
That summer of 1973 was a very difficult one for me; my Mom had come to Montpellier in February with terminal cancer, and she had passed away on May 17th. My girlfriend had joined me at her funeral in Alsace, my Mom’s birthplace. She had then gone back to Paris for her finals.
After my own finals in June, I went home to Morocco, to be with my Dad. I was 21.
My girlfriend and I had been dating on and off since we were 16. We left for college in two different cities in France. She was in Paris, and I was in Montpellier, about 500 miles south of Paris. I wouldn’t have called it a stable relationship. There was no marriage on the horizon, and we weren’t even really in love.
That summer of 1973 was a very difficult one for me; my Mom had come to Montpellier in February with terminal cancer, and she had passed away on May 17th. My girlfriend had joined me at her funeral in Alsace, my Mom’s birthplace. She had then gone back to Paris for her finals.
After my own finals in June, I went home to Morocco, to be with my Dad. I was 21.
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| My family home in Meknès, Morocco |
My Dad wasn’t doing too well, and I worked long hours supervising the harvest
at an apple farm.
My girlfriend was vacationing in Spain with her family and one day she dropped by for a surprise visit, out of the blue, just for 24 hours.
We went to a nightclub with a group of friends, but we were not “together” at that time. Still, we ended up at my place for the night. She left in the morning, back to Spain and then Paris.
My girlfriend was vacationing in Spain with her family and one day she dropped by for a surprise visit, out of the blue, just for 24 hours.
We went to a nightclub with a group of friends, but we were not “together” at that time. Still, we ended up at my place for the night. She left in the morning, back to Spain and then Paris.
I was still working on the farm when she called from Paris to tell me that she
was pregnant. She wouldn’t keep the baby. I suggested, not very strongly it is
true, that we could get married, but for her it was out of the question. She
needed money to go to England where abortion was legal. We had a few short
phone conversations, mainly to talk about money and flights arrangements. We
never mentioned the baby. One day she called and simply told me she was leaving
for London. Then there was a last phone call, just to say, “It’s done.”
I felt completely numb. I was still grieving my mother’s death, and this only added to it.
College started again. I visited her in Paris in the fall, then again at the beginning of 1974. She told me everything about the abortion in a detached way. She didn’t seem to feel anything about it. Eventually, we got back together, but it didn’t last.
Awhile later, I learned by chance that she had gotten married at the end of the school year.
It was only years later that I realized how terribly it had affected me.
First, a very strong attachment had been created between the two of us through this abortion. We were “parents” and parents don’t have a baby without this strong attachment. It’s incredibly strong because it is nature’s way of keeping parents together; to make them fight together for their child for the rest of their lives. The baby may not have been born, but he was real and had created a psychological attachment between us.
Second, the abortion, on top of the fact that my girlfriend had left me without closure, had killed something inside me. I was lost. It seemed like all feelings had deserted me, as well as any desire for connection. I was avoiding anything that could start a lasting and serious relationship. I wanted the fun, but no strings attached. I was empty.
I felt completely numb. I was still grieving my mother’s death, and this only added to it.
College started again. I visited her in Paris in the fall, then again at the beginning of 1974. She told me everything about the abortion in a detached way. She didn’t seem to feel anything about it. Eventually, we got back together, but it didn’t last.
Awhile later, I learned by chance that she had gotten married at the end of the school year.
It was only years later that I realized how terribly it had affected me.
First, a very strong attachment had been created between the two of us through this abortion. We were “parents” and parents don’t have a baby without this strong attachment. It’s incredibly strong because it is nature’s way of keeping parents together; to make them fight together for their child for the rest of their lives. The baby may not have been born, but he was real and had created a psychological attachment between us.
Second, the abortion, on top of the fact that my girlfriend had left me without closure, had killed something inside me. I was lost. It seemed like all feelings had deserted me, as well as any desire for connection. I was avoiding anything that could start a lasting and serious relationship. I wanted the fun, but no strings attached. I was empty.
This was the state of mind I was in when I met Christine.
The sad thing is that this first abortion opened the way to another
one.
There is not a day that I don’t think about these babies, not one day!
Christine and I participated in a Rachel’s Vineyard's retreat about ten years ago in Denver. I had to unearth all the pain I had buried deep within me, and all the pain I had inflicted to others. During the retreat I was granted an amazing gift. I had the vision of these two beautiful little guys, all dressed in white, playing peacefully together under a very large cedar, in a vast prairie. We have given them names, Philippe and Emmanuel. Christine has adopted Philippe. It’s a consolation but it doesn’t erase the pain.
There is not a day that I don’t think about these babies, not one day!
Christine and I participated in a Rachel’s Vineyard's retreat about ten years ago in Denver. I had to unearth all the pain I had buried deep within me, and all the pain I had inflicted to others. During the retreat I was granted an amazing gift. I had the vision of these two beautiful little guys, all dressed in white, playing peacefully together under a very large cedar, in a vast prairie. We have given them names, Philippe and Emmanuel. Christine has adopted Philippe. It’s a consolation but it doesn’t erase the pain.
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| http://janetpantryart.blogspot.com/2010/07/busy-busy-andmore-tea-vicar.html |
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