Guest Post By Kristin Detrow

             As a homeschooling mom, I’m always in search of educational activities and projects that will engage my children. When a friend told me about a local embryology program, we were sold. After several days of tweaking the thermostat and water levels in our borrowed incubator, the humidity and temperature were just right. We gently positioned the eggs, marked the calendar, and geared up for twenty-one days of waiting. I was unprepared for the lessons we would all learn about life during those three weeks.

            A host of educational materials were provided along with the incubator and eggs. Although much of it was over my kindergartener’s heads, they were enthralled by the chart that chronicled the metamorphosis taking place within the eggs each day. My boys were amazed to learn that only two days after fertilization, the circulatory system begins to form and is visible. On the third day, the heart begins to beat. By day six, the heart, brain and eyes are prominent. The beak appears.

            Learning how the baby chicks were forming within the sanctuary of their shells was remarkable. There was absolutely no external evidence to indicate that anything was happening within the shells. Our precious eggs could have easily been mistaken for the makings of an omelet. Yet, as I was able to teach my boys, there was a crucial difference between these eggs and the ones in the carton in our fridge. The eggs resting peacefully within our incubator had life in them.

            True to the glossy poster that expounded on their daily progress, our chicks hatched right on schedule. It was pure magic to hear the peeps from within the eggs and watch as they struggled free from the sturdy shells. In the end, only three of our dozen eggs managed to hatch. Peep, Cutie, and Shy entered the world amidst much fanfare and camera flashes that would rival a crowd of paparazzi. It struck me that my boys regarded the “duds” with a sense of sad reverence.  They insisted that the un-hatched eggs be disposed of in a respectful manner.

            The wisdom of children to comprehend common sense truths struck me anew. There was no political agenda muddying the waters for them. From day one, my kids never once considered the eggs mere ovals that had the potential to change into chickens. Instead, each and every one of them housed a living chick temporarily cloaked in a shell.

            The project provided me with an ideal opportunity to speak with my boys about human babies and draw parallels between the fledgling chicks within the eggs and a baby forming inside its mother. However, I realized that I was failing to teach them anything they didn’t already instinctively know. Of course a baby was alive within its mother. They knew it was a baby from the very moment it began to develop and grow. I am so thankful for the chance we’ve had to focus on the miracle of life, both human and avian. I pray that our country will adopt this child-like logic and fiercely fight to protect life.

**Kristin Detrow is a pro-life author.  Her book “The Intrusion” is a must read.  You may find out more about Kristin and her wonderful book at www.theintrusionbook.com. 

OPERATION CONVERSION 10/29/11 – DRS. PETER AND BETH KROPF.  Dr. Kropf and his wife Beth work as a team to provide abortions up to 18 weeks gestation.  They currently practice in Texas.  Please commit with me to pray for Drs. Peter and Beth Kropf every day for 7 days.  This is not a call to contact them or their facility.  

**Please post this on your Facebook wall, send to your prayer groups, talk to your minister, post on a prayer chain, or do whatever you can to get this message out. The goal is to have as many people praying for this physician at one time. We know the power of prayer is amazing and can change any heart. Thank you for your commitment!

In 2009, I had my tonsils removed.  They had been bothering me for a while and no one knows what they are really for anyway…so I figured I might as well have them out.  I knew a lot of tonsil-less people, so I wasn’t nervous at all about surgery.  A couple days before I went “under the knife” I had my pre-op visit with my ENT.  We were going over a few things that I already knew.  Then, he started talking about the risks.  I guess I hadn’t really thought there would be risks with a tonsillectomy.  Severing vocal cords and being unable to speak…damage to teeth…extreme blood loss…damage to my tongue…and even death.  WHAT???  Um, maybe I should just keep my annoying tonsils.  I suddenly became very nervous.  My doctor assured me that my fear were kind of irrational…he just HAD to tell me those things.  Needless to say, two days later, the tonsils came out.  I had no problems.  My throat has never been happier. 

Now, flashback to 2003.  I was 23 years old, a volunteer at Planned Parenthood, a college student, a woman who was 8 weeks pregnant by her husband…a husband she was divorcing.  I didn’t want a baby so I had a solution…abortion.  I had already had one abortion and it was easy.  Surely, this time it would be the same.  Instead of a surgical abortion, I thought this time I would choose a more “natural” way to abort…the medication abortion.  It was all pills and that seemed really simple.  Everything was done at home.  It was private, on your schedule, under your control and seemed less invasive.  “Nothing worse than a heavy period,” according to Planned Parenthood.  Sounded pretty easy to me.  So, I took the bait.  I made an appointment and got the money together.  The day came and it really felt like any other day.  I wasn’t nervous…I wasn’t having surgery.  This was going to be simple.  At the clinic I filled out paperwork, had some basic lab work done, had an ultrasound (that I don’t remember), and got put in a room for abortion counseling.  I had brought someone with me, but I, of course, had to do all of this alone.  No one except the patient was allowed past the waiting room.  I remember my “counseling” as if it happened yesterday. “You will have some heavy bleeding and period like cramps.  None of it should last too long.  You will be back to normal in a couple days,” my counselor said.  “Sounds good,” I remember saying.  And I guess it did sound pretty good.  I could get rid of my biggest burden for $400.00 and a little cramping.  Not a bad deal.  There didn’t appear to be any risks or side effects…or if there were, we didn’t go over them.  Surely if there were risks, they would have told me about them, right?  So the exchange was made.  I gave them $400.00, and they gave me a Mifeprex pill and a brown bag of pills to take home.  After taking the Mifeprex, I felt great!  No side effects…just like she said.  The next day, I did as I was told.  I ate a light lunch and took the 4 pills in my brown bag called Misoprostol.  They told me these were the pills that would start my bleeding and cramping…but nothing a few Ibuprofen couldn’t take care of.  I was told after taking the pills at home that I would probably start bleeding in about an hour.  So, I made myself comfortable on the bed and turned the TV on.  Ten minutes later, I started to feel pain in my abdomen unlike anything I had ever experienced.  Then the blood came.  It was gushing out of me.  I couldn’t wear a pad…nothing was able to absorb the amount of blood I was losing.  The only thing I could do was sit on the toilet.  I sat there for hours…bleeding, throwing up into the bathroom trashcan, crying and sweating.  I used to watch shows about childbirth.  I would see these women in labor and they would be covered in sweat.  I would always think, “Gosh, do they keep it hot in the delivery room, or what?”  But at that moment, sitting on the toilet, I knew it wasn’t from heat…it was from pain. 

After several hours on the toilet, I desperately wanted to soak in the bath tub.  I was hoping that would make me feel better.  Maybe the warm water would help the cramping.  Certainly it would make me smell better.  I had vomit all in my hair and on my legs, not to mention how sweaty I was.  I filled the tub and climbed in.  It actually did feel pretty good.  I remember closing my eyes and leaning my head back.  I felt exhausted.  The cramps kept coming, but the water helped soothe them somewhat.  I opened my eyes after 15 minutes and was horrified.  My bathwater was bright red.  It looked like I was sitting in the middle of a crime scene.  And I guess it was…I had murdered my child. 

I knew I had to get up and wash the blood off of me.  I stood up slowly and straightened out my body.  As soon as I was completely upright, I felt a pain worse than any other I had experienced.  I began to sweat again and felt faint.  I grabbed on to the side of the shower wall to steady myself.  Then I felt a release…and a splash in the water that was draining beneath me.  A blood clot the size of a lemon had fallen into my bath water.  Was that my baby?  I knew this huge clot was not going to go down the drain, so I reached down to pick it up.  I was able to grasp the large clot with both hands and move it to the toilet.  I stood in the warm shower for a few minutes…feeling a little relief from the cramping.  Then came the excruciating pain again.  I jumped out of the shower and sat on the toilet.  Another lemon sized blood clot.  Then another.  And another.  I thought I was dying.  This couldn’t be normal.  Planned Parenthood didn’t ever tell me this could happen.  This must be atypical.  I decided that I would call them in the morning…if I didn’t die before then.  It was around midnight and I had been in the bathroom for a good 12 hours.  I knew I couldn’t leave yet.  I didn’t want to lay in the bed…the bleeding was too heavy.  And the clots were still coming; not as often, but they were still coming.  So, I decided to sleep on the bathroom floor that night…right by the toilet.  The cold floor felt good on my face. I was physically depleted, but I could not sleep. 

The next morning, I called Planned Parenthood as soon as they opened and asked to speak to the nurse.  I was told she would call me back soon.  She did.  I told her about my previous day.  She told me, “That is not abnormal.”  WHAT??  She could not be serious.  All of the bleeding, the clotting, the pain…that was NORMAL???  “Yes,” she said.  “Use heating pads, soak in a warm tub, and take Ibuprofen.”  I was angry.  How could they not tell me the side effects?  I felt betrayed. 

Eight weeks passed.  Eight weeks of blood clots.  Eight weeks of nausea.  Eight weeks of excruciating cramps.  Eight weeks of heavy bleeding.  When it was finally over, I went back to volunteer at Planned Parenthood.  My anger was gone and had now been replaced by self-reproach. I no longer blamed Planned Parenthood, I blamed myself.  And honestly, I was glad that I wasn’t pregnant.  So, I just chalked it up to a terrible experience and vowed that I would do my best to never let anyone I know choose medication abortion.  I did not want anyone else to experience what I had been through. 

When I started working at Planned Parenthood, I did just that.  It actually became a joke around the clinic.  “Don’t let Abby see the MAB (medication abortion) clients.  She will change them all to surgical and we will be here all day.” I HATED medication abortion.  I hated that we were pushing it at all of our clinics.  I did not think it was best for our patients.  And I told them the risks.  I told them my story.  I told them about the clots, the cramping, the nausea, the bleeding.  I had seen too many women that had been hurt by this “natural” abortion method.  There was nothing natural about it.  At a management meeting, I voiced my concerns.  Why weren’t we talking about the risks?  Why hadn’t anyone told me?  “Well, we don’t want to scare them,” my supervisor said.  “Oh, like they are scared when they think they are dying from the amount of blood they are losing because we choose not to tell them that is supposedly normal,” I responded.  That didn’t go over too well.  That was their answer?  They didn’t want women to be scared??  The night of my medication abortion, lying on the cold bathroom floor, I had never been so scared.  What if I died there alone?  Who would find me?  Would my parents find out that their daughter died because she had an abortion?  That fear was real. 

Looking back on my tonsillectomy and my abortion, one thing really stands out.  When my ENT was going over all of these crazy risks, I was kind of thinking, “Hey, can you just NOT tell me any of this.”  But then I was grateful.  Because if I woke up and I wasn’t able to talk, or if my two front teeth were all busted up, at least I would have known that was a possibility.  At least I had the CHOICE to back out.  With my abortion, I wasn’t given that CHOICE.  They didn’t tell me what was really going to happen to me…because they didn’t want to “scare” me?  So much for freedom of choice. 

Here is another glaring contrast.  When my ENT was explaining the risks to me, I became nervous.  But as he was calming my fears, I remember him saying, “Don’t worry, none of this has EVER happened before to any of my patients.”  That made me feel better.  But the same cannot be said of abortion…particularly medication abortion.  Women have died from medication abortion.  Thousands of women have had very serious complications.  I saw many of them with my own eyes…I was one of them. 

To not give women all of the information about abortion because you think it will “scare” them is actually very offensive.  Doesn’t Planned Parenthood claim to “trust women?” Then why don’t they trust these women enough to give them all of the information?  Do they not think women are smart enough to handle basic facts?  What kind of female empowerment is that?  Here’s the truth…Planned Parenthood is not worried about women being “scared”…Planned Parenthood is scared.  They are scared women will walk out the door if they get accurate and thorough information.  Every woman that walks out is lost revenue…that is Planned Parenthood’s biggest fear.  They are scared.  They are scared of the truth.  They are scared to give women the truth. 

In 2003, a young woman died from a medication abortion.  Her name was Holly Patterson.  Since then, her father, Monty, has been working to expose the dangers and risks of abortion.  He recently created a website, http://abortionpillrisks.org.  This website is full of accurate information on the true risks of medication abortion.  I encourage all of you to please share this with people you know.  Please post this website on your facebook or twitter.  Right now, Planned Parenthood is planning to expand their medication abortion protocols to EVERY family planning clinic in the country in the next 5 years.  We must act now.  Holly didn’t have to die.  Women do not have to be hurt by abortion.  Expose the truth.  Someone has to trust women to make the right decision…it certainly won’t be Planned Parenthood.

OPERATION CONVERSION 10/22/11 – DR. MARTIN HASKELL.  Dr. Haskell gave the first presentation on the D&X or partial birth abortion procedure.  He currently works in the state of Ohio.  Please commit with me to pray for Dr. Haskell and cover him in prayer every day for 7 days.  This is not a call to contact him or his facility. 
**Please post this on your Facebook wall, send to your prayer groups, talk to your minister, post on a prayer chain, or do whatever you can to get this message out. The goal is to have as many people praying for this physician at one time. We know the power of prayer is amazing and can change any heart. Thank you for your commitment!

Last year, I took my whole family to the March for Life in Washington, D.C., including my 4 year old daughter, Grace.  She frequently goes out to the abortion clinics with me to pray.  She knows what it means to be pregnant.  She has a very simplified understanding of abortion.  She had never been exposed to any graphic signs.  I knew she would be at the March for Life.  I didn’t know what she would say or how she would handle it, but I didn’t want to hide them from her. 

We were walking to the March and walked by a large exhibit that showed graphic signs.  I thought, “Okay, here we go. She will definitely see this.”  When we got in front of the sign that showed an aborted baby at 24 weeks, she stopped and stared.  I stopped, knelt down beside her, put my hand on her shoulder and waited for her to respond.  She probably stood there and stared in silence for about 15 seconds (which is about the equivalent of a year in 4 year old time).  Then, she turned around and looked at me with a compassionate expression.  She pointed to the picture and said, “Mommy, that baby is broken.”  I smiled at the simplicity and accuracy of her observation.  I simply responded, “Yes, Grace. That baby has been broken.”  She grabbed my hand and started walking again. 

I wasn’t sure if or how she had been impacted by what she saw that day, until a few nights later when we were saying our night time prayers.  Grace was praying and said, “Please keep babies from being broken and keep them safe in their mommy’s tummies.”  I sighed with relief.  She had gotten it.  She had made the connection between abortion and that broken baby.  

I am writing this to encourage parents to talk to your kids about the reality of abortion.  Children are perceptive.  They are able to understand so much more than we think they can.  Their honesty is real.  I’m sure some will criticize me for bringing Grace out to the abortion clinics to pray at such a young age.  But I think it is appropriate.  I want her to be active in this movement.  I want her to know that she can make a difference…that she is ALREADY making a difference…no matter her age.  I want her to see her mom and dad leading by example.  I want her to know that we are not people who just say we are pro-life; we are people who live out our pro-life beliefs. 

This goes for everything we are involved in.  I don’t want my children to be sheltered from the reality in this world.  When we volunteer at homeless shelters, she is there with us.  When there is a young girl who needs a place to live, we are happy to bring her into our home and make her a part of our family. If we go pray to spare the life of someone who is about to be executed, Grace will be there with us.  We always want Grace to put our money in the offering plate at church.  Every six months, Grace does a big toy clean out.  She gathers her toys that she no longer wants and we go donate them to various charities.  Being pro-life doesn’t just stop at the abortion clinics for our family.  We are pro-quality of life.  We want Grace to see that. 

Trust me, we are not going to win any “parents of the year” awards.  But if there is one thing I can instill in my child, it is truth through charity.  I always want to be the number one person cheering on my daughter to not just do the right thing, but to always do the right thing in love and charity.  I always pray that she be honest at all times.  I pray that she learn how to be honest from us, her parents. I pray that we set a good example for her.  I pray that she grow up with a solid understanding of the value of life.  I pray that she is able to see the value in all life, born and unborn.  I pray that pro-life parents will empower our children, at a young age, to get involved in this movement.  Your pro-life witness might be the best inheritance you can leave for your children.

 Today is year two. The second year since I walked away from Planned Parenthood. The anniversary of my new life. I am a better mother, a better wife, a better friend, and a new creation in Christ. These two years have been the best of my life. It hasn’t been without some heartache, but it has all been worth it.

I am filled with emotions today. I am happy because I never thought my life would turn out so beautiful. It is wonderful to follow God’s plan. I am blessed in a way that I don’t deserve. I have amazing friends…friends that I didn’t have just two years ago…friends that will be with me the rest of my life. My marriage is better than it has ever been. I never realized how the evil of my job had crept into my life at home. Now we are free of that. I value my daughter more than I ever have. I never really saw motherhood as a gift; now I am able to see that it is the greatest gift we are given as women.

I also look back on the day I resigned and feel emotional. I couldn’t have had better allies in my corner…the Brazos Valley Coalition for Life. My world was falling apart and they were strong, prayerful, centered. They were there to guide me when I didn’t know where to step…especially Shawn Carney. I wouldn’t be here…healthy, grounded, stable…without him. When I showed up at his office, he started to protect me. I couldn’t seem to see what was in the future for me, but he could. He was prepared. I will never forget the day, 2 years ago today, when I told him that I had to resign right then. I said I couldn’t wait. I had planned on waiting, but I just knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I was going to go back there, pack up my stuff and leave. Shawn had been in “go mode” since minute one and I don’t think he had really gotten a chance to enjoy what was happening. I mean, I was the director of the clinic his group was trying to shut down. This was a victory. But he hadn’t taken the time to celebrate. But there, in that parking lot, just me and Shawn…that was his moment. I will never forget his face…the smile, the joy in his eyes. We both couldn’t stop smiling and laughing. It was pure peace…pure joy. I don’t think I had ever felt that before.

I am also burdened today. So many of my friends are still there, in those clinics. People that won’t communicate with me anymore. Good people who are misdirected. I am now the enemy. I feel broken for all of those that are still caught in the justification of the abortion industry. I desperately want them to feel the freedom that I do. I want to share this happiness with them. If they could just experience it for one day, they would never go back. If they could just free themselves from the lie, the truth would heal their brokenness. I fear for their hearts…I am scared they will become hardened. I fear for their eternal souls. I pray for all clinic workers every day. I hope you will also consider making this a priority for you.

I have to thank everyone who has been on this journey with me. All of you have been my inspiration. You keep me going every day. The stories you share with me touch my heart. I am just one person in this mighty pro-life army. All of you keep me strong. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. And especially to Elizabeth McClung. You were once my sidewalk counselor…now you are my best friend. God had something very special in store for us. You bring me sunshine every day.

Abortion has been my life for 10 years now. I have destroyed many lives. I will live every day righting that wrong. St. Joan of Arc said, “I am not afraid. I was born to do this.” I am not afraid to stand up against anyone and give a voice to the children that have been lost. I believe I was born to do this…I believe you were, too. We were born to stand up for these children in the womb. We are soldiers…warriors in this battle for life. We are willing to stand up to evil and say NO. No weapon formed against us will prosper. We are with God. We are His. He can change any heart. He can open any mind. He is God. He is BIG. He is in the business of miracles. I am proof.