This pregnancy care center is a joke. Moved my appointment around twice.. And i was fine with that to help convince them. They call me the day before to move my appointment from 2 o'clock pm to 9 am. And i was fine with that. This morning i woke up and dragged both of my kids out of bed.. To get on the bus at 7:30am this morning to be to my appointment at 9am and 30 mins before my appointment WHILE IM ON THE BUS WITH BOTH MY KIDS!!! They cancel my appointment because they're ultrasound tech was not going to be in this morning when the lady i spoke to yesterday ASSURED me nothing would change that i was still promised my ultrasound.. And now i wont be able to get my first ultrasound to see my baby..
After being raped I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure I could handle a baby on top of everything else. The people at ACPC understood and were there for me. They sat with me while I talked to the police. They gave me lots of options and referrals to other places for help. We chose an adoption plan and they stayed with me through the whole process and even afterward. My mom was supportive but I was glad to have others as well.
I do not have enough thanks to convey to ACPC for the healing and growth they initiated in my life in the early 90s. I started post-abortion counseling and was invited to join a group as well as get involved in individual counseling. There was a dear counselor there who showed such empathy and determination to see me healed from childhood trauma. In the group, we were challenged to pray and ask God to reveal to us the sex of the child or children we lost. I had two abortions. We were then encouraged to name our children and write a letter to them. They had a memorial service for the lost babies at the Imperial Gardens chapel. Helium-filled balloons filled the front of the chapel and each of us was instructed to take one balloon fir every child we had lost. There were poems read and songs sung and then we were to go outside to yet another service performed by little children and a message from the Bible shared by a pastor. When we were leaving the chapel, I lost one of my balloons. It just floated away, and I started to cry,
but one of my new friends I had made in the group came to me and put her arm around me and said, "Don't cry,
Jo Dee, You know I only lost one child, but God told me to take two balloons, so you can have this one." That made me cry even harder, knowing God would go before me ans instruct a friend to encourage me in that way. As we were walking to where the children were singing, "Jesus Loves the Little Children", I sensed in my spirit that God was telling me to tie the two balloons together so they didn't get separated, because my son and daughter were holding hands in Heaven and waiting for their balloons. Joseph Robert would have been 16 then and Rachael Ann would have been six. The Pastor shared the story of Mary Magdalene and how she had broken the alabaster jar of expensive oil and anointed Jesus and poured out her tears upon his feet and dried them with her hair. It reminded me of the song, "Broken and Spilled out" that my pastor's wife loved to sing. The last thing he said was, "Whomever is forgiven much loveth much." I knew that was me.