This will be one of the easier posts to write, because for the most part it will deal in facts. It is my recollection of the events that led to the abortion of our child. On the other hand, it is very difficult to write, because as I write it down, I see not only the cost of our failures, but all the times that either my wife or I could have done things differently, could have been more loving or understanding of each other, and we would still have our child. It is a harsh realization that I live with every day. It goes to the heart of marriage, and family, and the way we treat each other. We all make choices every day, and we are often bound up in pride, anger, selfishness, fear and any number of other sins when we make them. Usually we can’t see beyond the present, and can’t imagine all the possible consequences. I never in my wildest dreams imagined what lay ahead.
I won’t pull out a calendar to fact check the dates, but my wife and I were into our 13th year of our marriage. We had just returned from Germany, and I had taken a temporary job with an outfitter. We were not settled in yet, and my wife decided to do a little bit of traveling, catching up with family and friends that she had not seen in a while. After 20 years, I don’t remember exactly how long she was gone. Five or Six weeks seems right, but it could be way off. I had a different group of clients every week and remember several groups in that time frame.
In one of those groups, there was a Lady who was outgoing, friendly, and fun to be around. She was a Christian Lady and her behavior never gave anyone cause to question that. She was instant friends with everyone she met. After she returned home, she wrote me a letter thanking me for the trip. I really didn’t give it any thought.
After my wife returned, she found the letter, and accused me of an affair. I don’t remember my exact reaction, but I know that I was insensitive and dismissive. I was self-righteous, angry, and offended. It never occurred to me that my wife was hurting, just that she was angry and accusing, and I would have none of that. My approach was to bully her into believing me, and when that failed, I told her to believe whatever she had to, but to just get over it. I was thru fighting over it.
What I didn’t know was that she was pregnant. What I didn’t understand was that she was hurting, scared, and likely desperate. I had made sure with my anger that she didn’t feel safe enough with me to open her heart to me and tell me any of that. Instead, she drove into the city alone and had an abortion.
I don’t really know how I knew, but I remember an argument outside our cabin, and I suddenly just knew what she had done. I confronted her about her trip into town, and she confessed to the abortion. I don’t remember much more of that argument. In those few seconds I learned of the child I lost, and I tucked that away never to see the light of day. I have wondered since, how I could so easily do that, and what that said about who I was back then. The truth is that I was not equipped to deal with it at the time, and any other course I might have taken would likely have been worse.
This is one side of the story. There is another side that I don’t know as well as I should, and at times those questions have driven me into what can only be described as despair. Some may ultimately be revealed in Gods time, just as the ultrasound was. After torturing myself for what seemed forever, I finally mustered the courage to ask whether the child was a boy or a girl, and my wife was unable to tell me. I’m not sure it matters, but it would have been nice to know.
ManWithoutAMap 