Jennifer McCoy’s Story — Jennifer became pregnant out of statutory rape and had an abortion forced on her. She’s from Wichita, Kansas and is available for speaking — contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org
I am writing this on the 21st anniversary of my abortion. It is hard to believe that it’s been that long. Thanks to Project Rachel and some long chats with God, I am much better and have dealt with most parts. When I was 15, in Michigan, I found myself involved with a high school teacher of mine who was more than twice my age and married. He had children my age and taught catechism at church — a retired marine. At that age, I thought I was in love. By the time I was 16, I got pregnant.
My mom found out when the doctor’s office called and gave her the results. She set out to find out who it was by following me around. When she discovered who he was, she threatened him with the loss of his job, his family, and his freedom. She then informed me that I was getting an abortion. I said “No!” and moved up the street to a family’s house where I helped take care of their four kids and continued attending school.
My mother apparently put the pressure on the father of my child, and they set up my first OB/Gyn appointment at Dr. Hodari’s clinic in Southgate. Thinking I was going to a pre-natal appointment, I went and I filled out some papers — not a consent form though, because I knew I didn’t want an abortion. I talked to a counselor there and told her the same thing. She gave me information about birth control and nothing else. Then I was told I needed an ultrasound. The screen was kept turned away from me and I was told I was 8 or 10 weeks pregnant.
The next part was supposed to be the exam — which was routine — I was told. When this foreign man came into the room and I said I was ready for just an exam he grunted in acknowledgment. All of a sudden, I was in excruciating pain and I heard a noise like a vacuum. I tried to get up and he pushed me down.
I was crying, and he said, “It will be over in five minutes and you can go on with your life. If you move, you could die”. I was terrified and all I could do at that point was cry. I was afraid and alone that room. I felt the very life of my soul being torn from inside me and there was nothing I could do. The man who got me pregnant was in the waiting room.
I was so angry that no one had stopped this! They knew in the clinic that this older man was responsible for getting me pregnant, but no one said a word. There was no one on the sidewalk — no pro-lifers praying outside — for in my heart, I know that had there been one person to alert me to the fact that this was an abortuary and not just an OB/Gyn’s office, then I never would have gone inside.
I took this man to court some weeks later and his attorney produced paperwork claiming my mother had signed necessary documents so he could obtain the abortion without my consent. I felt completely betrayed by everyone, and the baby who I wanted so badly was torn form me. I know it was a boy, so years later — after years of not being able to function or even get out of bed — I attended a Project Rachel retreat and named him Austin Christopher.
My mom still lives in Michigan and today our relationship is okay. After the abortion, I had wanted to die. I joined the service so I could get away from home. Then in 1994, I went to project Rachel and it was the first time I’d really dealt with my abortion, and how it held the broken relationships that I had — my mom included. Although we have completely different beliefs, she maintains she made the right decisions. We have agreed to disagree out of respect for my mother. She feels we have a good relationship, and I agree. But it took years and project Rachel to get to it.
I started to go out to the abortion clinics in 1991. Since then, I have felt that God called me to be on the front lines where the girls need to be told that there is help — people who care — and that they don’t have to have the abortions. It’s nothing that you want to live with.Jennifer McCoy Family photo 2009 Wichita KS
My children — 10 of them — attend Catholic school here. I found out that in the Catholic high school, one of the morality classes entailed three stories of girls who had abortions that were on the internet. The students were to pick one and decide what to do to try to talk them out of it — what would they want to say to the girl? When the assignment was over, my daughter said that one was my story. She is in the 10th grade. We have gone out to the abortion clinics together for years. When one of my daughters was eight years old, she went and talked a young woman out of an abortion and that young woman named her baby after my daughter. I’m so glad that my children “get it” and that they’ll be spared the pain I endured.
I thank you for the opportunity to share this with you. God bless and keep you.
~ Jennifer McCoy