Hidden Grief: A Man’s perspective on the impact of abortion.
Hello, my name is Theo. I’m a Christian, a recovering addict, and a 40 Days for Life volunteer down on the south coast. I’m here today to tell you a bit about myself and my children, and also a bit about 40 Days.
It’s been almost ten years since my last visit to Kings Norton in August of 2015, when I accompanied my ex-girlfriend to the BPAS abortion provider here, where our daughter, an innocent child, my own flesh and blood, was put to death.
Earlier that year I had embarked upon a romantic relationship with a young lady. We were the same age and both had fairly serious drug and alcohol problems. Our attitude to religion was disinterested, if not hostile. And we saw no reason to abstain from fornication.
One weekend my ex-girlfriend went away to a music festival, drinking and taking pills. When she got back she had a miscarriage. We hadn’t known she was pregnant, so it came as quite a shock; however, the grief and confusion we both experienced was not enough to dissuade us from our lifestyle. So, a couple of months later she fell pregnant a second time. This time there was no miscarriage and we were left to consider our next move.
We attended a consultation at a BPAS facility. My ex-girlfriend requested that I accompany her, partly because she needed my support and partly so that we could talk things over together as a couple, but her request was denied and I was left in the waiting room while my child’s fate was decided. I don’t know what they said to her or what pressure was applied, but she went into that consultation, a vulnerable, inebriated 19-year-old, hoping to explore her options, and came out with an abortion booked.
The day of the abortion we had a car crash on the way to the train station. She was driving and she was so distracted that when traffic came to a halt at a red light, she kept going and drove straight into the back of someone’s car.
Upon arrival, we found the BPAS facility cold and inhospitable. When my ex-girlfriend was called through to the operating theatre she asked if I could accompany her, but once again her request was denied. I sat quietly in the waiting room while my daughter was put to death. I looked around but no one would make eye contact with me, except for a receptionist, who periodically looked up from her work to glare at me from behind a sheet of glass.
After what seemed like an age in that waiting room, my ex-girlfriend came back, but our baby – who we had taken to calling Bean because on the ultrasound she had looked like a little kidney bean – was gone. A decision had been made at the consultation not to administer any painkillers due to concerns over negative interactions with substances already in her system, so she underwent the surgical abortion without pain relief; however, afterwards the nurses decided to administer a large dose of codeine after all, which combined with the trauma to her body meant that she could hardly stand up on the walk back to the train station.
Neither of us knew how to process what had happened or what to make of our participation in it – we didn’t even have the language to talk about it amongst ourselves. In our grief and knowing no other way to reconnect or comfort one another, we simply continued with our lifestyle. Inevitably, the following year she fell pregnant a third and final time.
By this time we had to a large degree drifted apart. From what I was told, she was rushed to hospital after having passed out at work. After some tests and scans she was told that she was pregnant but that the child was deformed and could not survive, and furthermore that it was necessary to remove the child to avoid further health complications. I accepted this story at the time, but after a couple of years in the pro-life movement I am aware that medical professionals can sometimes be less than transparent about these things and I do wonder what the reality was.
Aftermath & Rachel’s Vineyard
Soon after this the relationship fell apart, which was for the best. I spent a couple of years drowning my sorrows, then got sober in early 2018. Next I turned to politics in search of radical solutions and found in politics both a new crutch and an outlet for the anger and guilt I was carrying. Eventually, I broke down in early 2021, exited politics, quit my job and withdrew from the world completely.
It was at that time that I first started to pray. I learned the Jesus Prayer: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ I couldn’t function to work, socialise or even leave my flat most days, but I found that I could pray that simple little prayer, so that’s what I did all day every day for a while. That led me on to reading the Bible and the Church fathers, and eventually to Baptism. And though I truly believe that my sins were washed away in Baptism, I continued to carry that guilt and anger, grief and self-loathing.
In early 2023 I attended a Rachel’s Vineyard weekend retreat together with a group of other post-abortive parents. I learned how to really talk about abortion and grief for the first time. At an even deeper level, I learned to empathise with others who were grieving for their children and to accept help from people who understood what I had been through and what I had done.
Getting Active
Following my Rachel’s Vineyard experience I felt convicted to speak out, to take the grief and regret and turn it towards something good and holy. Through friends I made on that retreat I was introduced to the pro-life movement and a range of pro-life media, but I sensed a need for more men, and especially men of my generation, to speak out. So I got in touch with Isabel and did some testimonies with March for Life, which eventually led me to involvement in 40 Days for Life.
I connected with Adam later that year and got onboard with 40 Days’ Southampton campaign, and even ran a couple of campaigns when Adam’s legal struggle demanded his full attention. So I’m pretty familiar now with how this kind of activism works, and how well it works, having seen it from the perspective of both a volunteer and an organiser.
Yes, I’ve been active in the pro-life movement in Britain for a good couple of years now, so I know first hand what a difference on the ground activism can make to change and save lives. Every time I see Robert, our International Campaigns Director, he has new success stories to share, stories about children who are alive today because of 40 Days for Life.
For some of you, you will be here because you have been personally impacted by abortion, for others you may simply be concerned by increasing abortion rates, the catastrophic rollout in recent years of ‘pills by post’, or recent crackdowns on pro-life activism. Either way, you are needed now more than ever. The most vulnerable in society need you: they need your prayers, they need your public witness, they need your help.
In 2024 abortion was the leading cause of death worldwide, accounting for over 42% of human deaths across the globe. That’s 45.1 million unborn children in just one year, more than the total death toll of the First World War. In England and Wales over a quarter of a million innocent children are put to death every year through abortion.
Whatever has brought you here today, whatever has brought you to the pro-life cause, God is at work in you and has offered you the grace to see these little ones ashuman beings deserving of life and love. Do not hide that light under a bushel. Do not be afraid to bear witness to the right to life of all people. Euphemism, propaganda, buffer zones, legal attacks, intimidation – these are the tools which the devil, the father of lies, employs to conceal and obscure the ongoing slaughter. But do not be intimidated – his bark is worse than his bite!
I mentioned the need for more men, and more young men, to speak out. We are told ad nauseam that this is ‘not a man’s issue’, that what are euphemistically referred to as ‘reproductive rights’ are a topic off-limits for men. Do not fall for this! To be a man is to be pastoral, to be a shepherd of sorts. A good shepherd does not abandon his sheep to the wolves, nor does he sit idly by and watch the flock wander off a cliff; a good shepherd is a faithful guide and vigilant protector. Take courage, then, and get active.
40 Days for Life
40 Days for Life combines two vitally important parts of pro-life ministry: prayer and witness. Without prayer, without engagement at the spiritual level, our efforts will surely flounder. Without public witness, on the other hand, few hearts will be changed and fewer lives saved.
So we pray for the holy innocents, the children in the womb, that God may bless and preserve them. We pray for the parents who are considering abortion, whether because they are afraid or are being coerced, or because they have been propagandised into believing that there is nothing wrong with abortion. We pray for their enlightenment, for their conversion of heart, and for God’s mercy upon those who have had or supported abortions. We pray also for those working in the abortion providers, that they may come to the knowledge of truth, repent of their actions and find peace and forgiveness.
We bear witness, going to the places where we are needed most, to provide support to those in desperate situations, or simply to stand as a reminder that every life is of immeasurable value to God, as it should be to us. And through this prayerful witness, minds really do change, hearts really are softened, and lives continue to be saved.
I sometimes wonder what might have happened that day in 2015, on my last visit to Kings Norton, had there been a 40 Days volunteer outside the abortion provider. Would we have thought twice about going inside? Would my ex-girlfriend, unsure as she was of her decision, have changed her mind? Would I have been encouraged to set aside my fear and speak out in defence of my daughter? These are the kinds of questions I have been asking myself for almost a decade, and no doubt I will continue to wrestle with them for the rest of my life. I wish there had been someone there to help us, to pray for us and tell us the truth that the abortion industry and the political establishment work so hard to hide. The truth about our daughter’s life, her humanity, her value. The truth about what we were about to do, and its meaning in spiritual and ethical context. I exhort you all to be there for people like me, and my ex-girlfriend, and our daughter. Be there to minister to the needy with prayer and compassion, truth-telling and support.
Encouragement
It’s easy to feel discouraged, especially at a time when the right of pro-lifers to speak out, to be visible and to make resources accessible, are being curtailed by legislators in Britain. Finding the motivation to get out there can be tough in a culture so hypnotised by the language of ‘pro-choice’ and ‘reproductive rights’, a culture increasingly hostile to open dialogue and Christian mission. But I promise you, it’s not half as scary as you think standing on the street corner with your Bible or rosary, and that hour or two you give up might just save a life in your community. You may never know it, but it might. Even if that doesn’t happen, not one of your prayers will be wasted when they come before God.
I recall that at the height of the Black Lives Matter movement, a phrase coined by American Marxist activist Angela Davis did the rounds. ‘It is not enough to be non-racist,’ wrote Davis, ‘You have to be actively anti-racist.’ Well, how about this: It’s not enough to be anti-abortion, we must endeavour to be actively pro-life. What I mean is that, if we want to see lives saved and laws changed, holding certain opinions privately will not do it. No, if we really believe that every human being is made in the image of God and therefore has the inalienable right to life, we must be willing to do something about it, to give up our time and risk a little discomfort by getting out there and getting active. That’s how change happens, by individuals getting together to live out their convictions. So please, do sign up for an hour a week, or two, or three… If each one of us resolves to do our part, I believe that by the grace of God, we can turn the tide on abortion in this country, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Theo
