THE ABORTION CLINIC

I went to an abortion clinic for the first time last week. Let me explain. Now that I'm working full-time as a public relations representative for a health care organization, I spend part of my day driving around and visiting doctors offices. As I was navigating my way toward the umpteenth office last Friday, I passed a van on a street that had a large graphic picture of an aborted baby. It turns out that the primary care physician's office that I was visiting was right next door to the abortion clinic in North Raleigh. I got a sick feeling in my stomach when I got out of my car. I glanced next door and thought about the things that happened in that office. After I went into the primary care physician's office and did my PR thing, I started walking toward my car. That's when I noticed three sidewalk counselors standing outside of the abortion clinic. Sidewalk counseling is exactly what the name implies—standing on the sidewalk outside an abortion clinic, counseling women and couples on their way inside. It is a last attempt to turn their hearts away from abortion and offer real help. I nearly got in my car and drove away, but something stopped me. I started walking towards the three men with rosaries in hand. I had always wanted to get involved in sidewalk counseling, but I always thought it would be much too intense for me to handle. One of the men actually recognized me from the News & Observer article. He told me that they had already saved two babies that morning by directing them to Birthchoice, which is a pro-life center minutes away (they offer free ultrasounds). "Really?" I asked, visibly surprised. Wow. I always knew that this happened, but abortion had never seemed so real to me. He continued on. "We tried to stop a young woman from entering the abortion clinic earlier . Her grandmother who was accompanying her asked, "have you ever had a baby mister?" Obviously, the man never had been in that situation. He could not relate to the young woman. I couldn't help thinking that I could have shared my story with the young woman and maybe even stopped her from making that decision. We talked for a few minutes longer, I exchanged contact info with them, and I was on my way. It was only a ten minute encounter, but I thought about that experience the rest of the day. I couldn't stop thinking about the girl and her grandmother. If I had shown up a few minutes earlier, could I have changed their minds? It was then that I decided that I wanted to get involved in sidewalk counseling. There's something so incredibly powerful in speaking from personal experience. I think it's great that there are men involved in sidewalk counseling, but the truth is that a woman simply isn't able to relate to a man telling her what to do. The fact that I am a woman and I have gone through a crisis pregnancy situation is an opportunity for me to build a connection with these women and hopefully change their minds. I know that it's going to be emotionally draining, extremely difficult, and very uncomfortable. But... "When one stands in front of an abortion clinic and watches a real woman walk inside to pay an abortionist to kill the baby living and growing inside her, the issue is no longer philosophical. Those who witness this recurring scene at an abortion facility cannot help but recommit themselves to the task of trying to save lives." -http://prolifeaction.org/sidewalk/