For siblings of aborted babies, there is death, trauma, and grief. But I want to tell the other side of it because that is only part of the journey. There is also healing, joy, and life to come. That the children who have been aborted lived on earth is a great joy for us to have had their presence grace the world. The death and brutality that took place is only half of the story. And what a joy it will be to live together in the life to come.
And what a joy it will be to live together in the life to come.
I remember the day I found out about my sister. I came down from my room one morning and went into the living room where I found my mom and my older living sister crying. I must have been 13 or so years old. My mom told me to sit down and I was worried about why they were crying. My mom then told me that I had a sister she never told me about—that she had gotten pregnant before she had married my dad and that she had an abortion. I felt at first immense joy at finding out I had another sibling I didn’t know about. It made so much sense. My whole life I felt there was someone missing. When my family was together I would always count how many people were there and even when it was all of us I would ask who was missing. Now I knew who it was. And then unfathomable grief—she was gone. She never got the chance to live a full life as I had. What was she like? What would she look like? Would we have been close? Would she have gotten married? Why couldn’t have someone stopped the abortion or supported my mom and changed the course of the past so we would have her? There was an overwhelming sense of loss. But she made herself known.
When my family was together I would always count how many people were there and even when it was all of us I would ask who was missing. Now I knew who it was. And then unfathomable grief—she was gone.
My sister awoke from a dream and was in distress, which is why she was crying with my mom. In the dream, she saw a baby that had a veil on its face. My grandpa who had passed away was holding the baby. In the dream, I wanted to take the veil off the baby’s face so that everyone could see the baby. The veil ended up being taken off the baby and my sister saw a gorgeous little baby girl with thick black hair. She knew right away that it was her sister. She also somehow knew that she had been aborted. When she woke up she asked my mom about her abortion, even though we had no reason to believe that my mom ever had one. My mom began weeping, saying that the baby would have looked like my sister's description. My mom also said she knew in her heart that the child was a girl and told us her name: Isabella. She continued by sharing her abortion story with us.
After that day, I struggled with grief. I had always known there was a missing sibling in the deepest part of my soul, and I began to process our loss. For the next ten years, I struggled immensely and always privately. For instance, every year on my birthday, after the celebrations, I would cry myself to sleep because I wish my sister was alive. When I graduated from college, in particular, it was really hard. I thought my sister would probably have had kids but would likely have come to my graduation. I miss her every day and wish she could be here.
Every year on my birthday, after the celebrations, I would cry myself to sleep because I wish my sister was alive.
Yet something characteristic of a miracle occurred. One day I was praying before receiving communion, giving God my hurt and pain from the grief. Then I began worshipping the Trinity as the Holy One and true God. When I received communion, my heart was filled with an overwhelming closeness to my sister. It was as if I was with her, next to her, in her presence so to speak. I realized that at the time of my receiving and worshipping God that we were both doing the same thing and that we are one in the body of Christ. I was closer to her than if she were next to me at Mass in person. My heart was overjoyed to come to know her and to know that her being is wrapped up in the very life of God now.
My heart was overjoyed to come to know her and to know that her being is wrapped up in the very life of God now.
The way in which we die does not define who we are. Rather, I believe, that how we live shows who we are. Abortion is what was done to my sister. But it is not who my sister is. She is not an “aborted baby.” She was a baby. A normal baby who lived a quiet, hidden life. My sister died but she was not annihilated. Her soul was not destroyed. My sister lived a beautiful, peaceful, and worthy life here on earth. She currently lives a marvelous life in heaven. I know now that she is a loving, over-generous, humorous, and caring-like-you-can’t-believe-it, kind of person. I know this because she is so much all these things that not even the grave can hold her back from me getting to know her love.
My sister died but she was not annihilated. Her soul was not destroyed.
When we are overwhelmed by the numbers of how many babies have been aborted, I think often we need to step back and first of all think just of how many people there are. That they were aborted is, in a sense, a very small part of who these people are. How many people! I am grateful for each person, for who they are. And who are they? They are our beautiful and loving siblings.
And I love my sister. I’m so glad she was conceived. I’m so glad she blessed the earth with her presence. I’m so grateful for her love and prayers that fill my life. Thank you, God, for creating her! Thank you, Jesus, for her life—here on earth and eternal.
There have been more things that have happened that have revealed more. But I would like to encourage those who are mourning—blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
-Sibling K
Even This Way seeks to bring forgiveness to families, compassion to communities, and healing to the hurting. We hold no religious affiliation, but we encourage siblings to embrace all of their healing experiences, and many times they are spiritual experiences!
Do you have a similiar experience? Share your story with us!
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