Generations Conceived in Violence
Our family has seen generations conceived in violence. My mom was a 15-year-old virgin from a small town in 1966. That spring she was violently raped. He told her he’d ruined her and no one else would want her. She believed him. He convinced her to marry him after she discovered she was pregnant.
Pregnant Again
They never had normal relations. He attacked her often. When she found herself pregnant a second time, she was suicidal. Her mom took us in. It was a tumultuous childhood. She remarried, but it wasn’t smooth sailing. I was sent to my paternal grandmother’s for weekends where he abused us.
She was divorced again before I was in my teen years. Her apartment was full of transients. There were drugs, alcohol, and vulgarity of all kinds. She and I were sexually abused by the same person among others.
I skipped school often. I was out in the neighborhood babysitting, cleaning, or just hanging out. A handsome man came to my neighborhood and made conversation. When the weather turned cold, it wasn’t long before I was in his car. Then, it wasn’t long before I was in his bed. The cycle of abuse continued.
He first sold me on my 14th birthday. For four years, I lived in my sneakers. I had decided that I was making my own decisions. When I was 17 years old, I agreed to belong to one man. He used me as his own “house pet,” but I had to agree that if I got pregnant, I would have an abortion.
When I got pregnant, he forced me through tearful protest to make an appointment with an abortionist. Somehow, I fell asleep that night and had a dream of the abortion procedure in living color, from the perspective of the womb. I saw that little hand, the ribcage, a tiny face.
God Showed Up
I threw my hands in the air in the morning. “If you’re real, God, I need you to show up.” Just then, I remembered the name of my Key Tracker, a social worker who kept track of me when I was considered a runaway. I found her and she found a home for me.
He picked me up for dinner after my scheduled appointment. All the way down to Boston, I told him how I’d had a terrible time at the appointment and that my cousin would give me a job if he would only let me go. It was about an hour drive. He said nothing. During dinner I was terrified; shaking, crying, not eating, frequently moving , and going to the ladies room.
On the way home, he said, “Ok, you can go, but if you come back to this city, you’re mine.”
Saving my baby, saved my life. He let me go. Friends of the Unborn took me in and helped me to learn how the follow God. This woman didn’t have anything. She just wanted to help provide for young women in need. This was my first experience with someone who was truly altruistic, someone who would sacrifice for the sake of others because of her love for God.
There are a lot of people through generations conceived in violence. They are still people. They are valuable, worthy of love, and important members of society. Let’s pray the cycle ends for all.
I married a wonderful man almost 26 years ago. We have five children altogether. We provided home education so that our children could get to know the Bible and live better than I lived as a child. They are all great people.
God is real and He will show up. Just ask Him.