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Abortion Ink Slingers Jaclyn Respect Life

Folding Baby Clothes to Defend the Unborn

When I was in middle school my father took me to my first Pro-life conference. This planted a seed that gave me a passion for defending the unborn.  In college as a musical theater major I had no idea how God could use me. My first year out of college I was a part time music minister and part time pregnancy center counselor. Then I spent two years as the Coordinator of the Life Center in Brian, TX.

This front of the pro-life battle is beautiful and heartbreaking.  During my time in pro-life work there were many uneventful days. I came in and folded baby clothes, filled out paperwork, taught classes about prenatal development to expecting mommies and gave pregnancy tests.

At our pregnancy center, the woman and I would sit down to chat about the possibility of being pregnant and I would try to assess her needs in case she was pregnant or see if there was any support or guidance we could give her if she wasn’t pregnant.  She would go to the bathroom to get a sample of urine in a cup and come back and do the test on the table between us.  Usually I could tell just by her face if she was abortion vulnerable or if she was hoping to be pregnant or just anxious. Sometimes the woman was married but low-income and just trying to save money on pregnancy tests and needed the material support (diapers and baby clothes).

It was so special to see the look of fear and excitement when I showed the mom approximately how her baby was growing according to her last menstruation.   I informed each woman of the services we provided, let her know that she was always welcome to come by and talk or take a class.  I tried to reach out to her where she was and sometimes she would reach back.  It was so much fun to hand a mom her very first baby gift.  We had little booties, gifts for the unborn, to show we cared and give her something to hold for her baby.

The best part was when they came back.  When we got to walk that journey with them as they went to classes on pregnancy and parenting in preparation for the big day and see the joy when they brought the baby to show us. I don’t know if any of those brave mommies even considered abortion.  Most of them had decided already when they came to us. But I know they appreciated the love and support we were able to give them.

It was wonderful when a pregnant mom or mother with a little baby gave that look of grateful relief after I handed her that pack of diapers.
Then there were the bad days.  Because of these days, I felt emotionally exhausted many days coming home.  It was hard carrying the stories and hurt of the women who were suffering.  Some chose life and some did not.  Some had husbands who could barely make ends meet and didn’t know what to do with another baby.  Some had terrible medical conditions that made pregnancy unbearable.  Some were in abusive relationships but didn’t know how to get out. Some were young girls with dreams of getting married but needed to finish high school.

There were so many beautiful souls with so much love for their partners and families and friends and a baby… a baby was not what they had planned.  At least one woman told me she knew it was a baby but she couldn’t handle it.  No amount of help from me could overcome her anguish.  More than one young girl told me that she couldn’t imagine giving her baby up for adoption but would consider abortion.  She couldn’t imagine someone else raising her baby. These days were so heartbreaking.

It was hard to deal with the ungrateful women, the rude women who felt entitled to any help I could offer and had no intention of even being polite.  Any attempt to connect with her was seen as prying and intrusive.  Some women would say “is this all? ” when I brought them free clothes or baby items.

Especially hard were the phone calls asking if we offered abortions. We all stopped and prayed immediately whenever that happened but it was just heartbreaking every single time.

When I would go to pray outside the abortion clinic I was terrified I would see someone I knew from the center.  I rarely went because I was so afraid I would start crying just thinking about those sweet women who I knew loved their unborn babies but for whatever reason felt compelled to hit the escape button no matter the consequence.  I hope they knew I cared for them.  I always told them, even if they had the abortion they could always come back to talk or for help with their other children.

Another difficult aspect of non profit work is the money. The money had to come from somewhere. The center I worked for was run by the diocese and they were very generous but there were so many things we couldn’t afford.  So we applied for a government grant. This was such a godsend!  Now some of the money which would have gone to Planned Parenthood could actually help women who chose life!  It allowed us to offer classes and buy new items for moms in need like swings, strollers and bouncers which we never could have afforded before. However, the government also has rules they have to follow and when you take money from the government you have to follow their rules. For example, if a woman wanted to talk about God or her faith- it had to be a different counselor at a different time who spoke to her and not the “government provided” counselor.  Many days we felt so hindered by this restriction.  There were not many times when it came up but when it did, for example if a woman said “I don’t think God could ever forgive me”, it broke our hearts to say “We have someone else who would love talk to you about that”.
When I quit my job at the life center to stay home with my daughter, it felt like a relief.  The weight of all those hurting hearts was lifted- the responsibility I felt to those mommies and babies born and unborn was gone for now.  I felt I had earned a break from this emotionally draining work.  In addition to the fact that my daughter would be one year old soon and my own hands were full.   I stopped being involved with pro-life work except for teaching NFP introductory classes, which is only tangentially prolife at all.  I avoided the topic of abortion and gave myself a free pass to stop worrying for a while.  I put my time in.

Now my daughter is four and I still avoid volunteering, marching, even praying for an end to abortion. Those years had hardened my heart.  Until recently when I watched a 30 minute video that renewed my fervor. It is called 180.  I almost don’t want to recommend it because it is so moving and powerful.  The images and facts are shocking.  It made me think once more – I have to DO SOMETHING!  Sometimes I feel so helpless.  There are days when we pro-lifers wish we could chain ourselves to the doors of the abortion clinics so no one could go in. But we know this would be unwise and ultimately fruitless. That is why it is so beautiful the way Stand and Pray works. We need to BE there. We have to stand outside that death camp as a statement that something is happening there that is wrong.  We can’t stop it. But we can stand up against it- literally.

There are so many ways to defend the unborn.  We each have to use the gifts God gave us to discern where we are being called. For me, giving diapers and a hug, if she’ll allow me, was where I was called to defend life. For someone else it could be stuffing envelopes for any number of pro-life organizations or writing letters.

I hope that taking a peek into a pregnancy center has shown you the special role that the Gabriel Project Life Center plays and I hope you will take an opportunity during Respect Life Month to reevaluate your commitment to defending the unborn.  Gabriel Angels are paired up with mothers in need of material and emotional support throughout the diocese.  This is a very flexible role as it is different for each mom. Sometimes its only delivering baby items. Or maybe you have some baby items sitting in your garage you could donate. The Gabriel Project is a beautiful ministry that uses person to person contact to reach out to those who without that support could become abortion minded. Walking though a pregnancy with mom can be very rewarding, especially if you get to hold the baby.

So please don’t give in to hopelessness wherever you are in the pro-life battle to defend the unborn.  Sometimes a caring hand is all it takes. Here is some more encouragement that really helped me after watching 180. Simcha Fisher’s Hope for Pro-Lifers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Jaclyn

Jaclyn spends her days playing jester to her three-year-old princess and 18 month old female gymnast. She has one more daughter in heaven who is her youngest daughter’s twin who died when they were five weeks old. She loves to sing, especially classical, spiritual and Broadway music. Her sweet husband must want to be a saint because he has been married to her for five years.

3 replies on “Folding Baby Clothes to Defend the Unborn”

Jaclyn, I read your story with tears in my eyes. You see, when I was in college at TAMU, I got pregnant. I was so naive, I thought I’d have to go to the doctor to do a pregnancy test, and I didn’t want to do that; it cost money, and somehow just making a doctor’s appointment seemed to make it all so real and absolute. But I did have the sense to look in the yellow pages and find a local pregnancy center. I doubt it was the Life Center; I don’t remember the name, or even just where it was, but I didn’t feel so anxious about making an appointment there. My boyfriend (now husband) went with me. I did what I now know to be a simple home pregnancy test, and of course it was positive. The counselor we spoke with didn’t say much. She could see our brokenness and grief, and didn’t know how to interpret it. She hesitatingly asked about what our plans were…adoption? or…? Despite the immoral way we had conducted ourselves, both my boyfriend and I were at least firm in our convictions about ONE thing, and hastily assured her that we would never consider abortion. We left, both crying, and I recall the counselor looking so concerned for us. She had a look of helplessness. What else could she do or say to ease our path?

That was twenty years ago. I still think of that counselor, and of the loving dignity with which she treated us, who were so young and stupid. No matter that there wasn’t anything else she could say or do–I know without a doubt that she cared for us and our baby in a way few other total strangers would have. She was there to help us through a critical, and desperately difficult, moment of our lives. That was enough.

We lived through the toughest part–telling our parents. We got married, had the baby, finished school and went on to have six more children, the youngest of which is just four months old! The baby that we had so long ago is almost 21. He’s 6’2″, handsome and a student at MIT. I often think how blessed I am to have had him when we did, because it forced us to move forward with our family plans, rather than delaying our children until we had stable jobs, a house, or whatever. We had to make sacrifices, and my husband had to work long hours at a difficult job. We had to face our family and friends with the shame of what we had done. But it all worked out for our good, and we are better for it.

My counselor from all those years ago will never know what happened to us. So I’m telling you. What you’ve done makes a difference, and I am grateful.

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