Embracing the Rain-A Love song for the son I never knew- Wayne Auman

On the 25th year anniversary of the abortion, Wayne composed a ballad called "I Wonder: A Love Song to the Son I Never Knew"

View the video and lyrics here

A Love Song To The Son I Never Knew
by Wayne Auman

©Lynette Judd

This tragic story occurs in 1981. I was going steady with a wonderful girl, and we planned to eventually marry. She was 17, I was 21. We had been together over a year, and we were crazy in love. We were both "good" kids in a conservative southern town in the early 80's. She was a National Honor Society student and quite popular at her school. She had aspirations of becoming a pharmacist, my wife, and the mother of our children, at "the right time." Then one September day she approached me with tears in her eyes, and when I asked her what was wrong, she was afraid to tell me. After much coaxing, and reassuring her I would love her no matter what, she told me she was pregnant. Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather, I was so surprised.

We both agreed months before if faced with this scenario that abortion was unthinkable, and that we'd get married quickly and have our baby. So when she gave me the news, though stunned beyond comprehension (this kind of thing only happened to other people, right? This couldn't actually be happening to US !), I immediately suggested that we accelerate our timetable to accommodate our baby. I wanted to marry her that weekend and start planning for our child, but she tearfully refused. She was focused and determined to not let this “bump-in-the-road” slow down her college and career goals. She also said that she was afraid of what her parents would do to us when they found out she was pregnant, and that she didn’t want to start our marriage that way. She said she would take care of the "problem", and that we'd have kids, but after college and when her career was set. It was one thing to discuss the possibility of an “accidental“ pregnancy, but an entirely different issue when it actually happened. I saw a side of my beloved that I never knew existed and it shocked me.

I told her that it wouldn’t be so bad, that she would love our baby so much. I also suggested how much our mothers would love and help us with our child, even pointing out how they would practically raise our baby for us, they wanted grandchildren so badly.

My girlfriend wouldn‘t hear of it. "How could you just throw away our child so easily?," I remember asking. "How could you even consider murdering our baby?" She begged me to stop, telling me it was her body, her choice, and that this was the “easy” solution to her “problem”. She cried for me to stop, saying that it was hard enough without me preaching to her. I was making an “easy” decision more difficult…

In retrospect, I didn’t preach nearly enough. If I had tried harder, she may not have gone through with the worst mistake of our lives, and my son would be alive today. I will always regret not fighting harder to save the life of my son.

In fact, her decision was already made. She had made an appointment at the abortion clinic for the following week, without telling me. (I know, it's her body, her choice, but he was OUR baby.) I was willing to have our child adopted if it would save his or her life, but her mind was set.

When the day came to do the procedure, I was depressed and scared. I was also worried about my girlfriend, who had become increasingly distant as the day grew nearer, and refused to talk about it. I insisted on going with her to the clinic, against her wishes, hoping and praying for a last-minute change of heart. Upon entering the non-descript office waiting room, I felt a dozen pair of female eyes suspiciously evaluate me, quickly averting their gaze when I looked their way. I was an unwanted intruder into a secret, horribly loathsome place; a bitter reminder of why these young girls were there. The atmosphere was incredibly dark, dreadful, and depressing. The feeling of overwhelming shame was palpable. Not a sound was made by any of the waiting patients, save for the occasional turning of a magazine page. Muted whispers and muffled sobs eventually were noticed in the far corner, where a Mother and her young teen daughter were huddled closely. The stern, clinical demeanor of the “support staff” was of no comfort, and the aura of death permeated the antiseptic air.

As I tried to comfort my girlfriend, I told her it wasn’t too late to get out of there, and for the first time, I saw tears in her eyes. She was so afraid, yet so determined to “fix” her problem the quickest way she knew how. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes when she refused my offer of escape. The look was a pleading, agonizing glimpse into her soul, and at that moment, during her war with her conscience, I should have taken the initiative, grabbed her, and run out of there. But I didn’t. I hesitated. And all too soon, the window to her soul closed tight, and she steeled herself for her ordeal to follow. Her eyes grew distant again, and my best opportunity to save the life of my precious baby son was lost.

Additionally, I was so concerned for my girlfriend’s physical, mental and spiritual health, that I was frantic. Trying to pray, I felt as if my words, pain, and despair were just bouncing off the ceiling, and because of my horrific acts, God would never again hear my prayers, much less relieve us of our pain. I felt that I deserved the tortuous pain that was devastating me, and I knew in my heart there would be a high price to pay for our actions. I truly felt we were committing an unforgivable sin. Only by God’s Grace was I wrong.

During the time she was gone, the room was startled by a loud, piercing wail of pain from the “procedure” room. I will never forget the desperation and agony of that scream, which was quickly muffled somehow. I immediately feared that it was my girlfriend, and my emotions transformed from grief and guilt to panicked concern for her safety. I got up to ask a staff member about the scream, as the other patients exchanged nervous glances with each other. I was curtly instructed that I was to sit down and wait quietly, and when I insisted that someone check on my girlfriend, I was answered with a contemptuous glare. Eventually, someone did check on her, called me to the window, and stated that it was not my girlfriend who cried out. That was of little comfort, as I was imagining the horror that she was enduring, and my heart wept for her.

After nearly an hour, she emerged. Her posture and demeanor were frighteningly transformed. Hunched over, clutching her purse and prescription, she shuffled slowly into the waiting area, and stifled a moan of pain. What was most unsettling was the complete absence of light and life in her eyes. She was like a zombie. Like walking death. Upon seeing her, my heart broke into a thousand pieces, never to be whole again. I mourned for her, her pain, her wounded soul, but most of all, for our dead child. A child we knowingly, deliberately, murdered. And for what? So she could be a college student, and have a career, unencumbered by the responsibilities of raising a child? Pathetic. Simply pathetic. When there are so many wonderful, loving couples desperately longing to adopt a child, abortion makes even less sense.

The after-effects of the abortion were traumatic and long-reaching. My girlfriend stayed in bed for a week, and experienced heavy bleeding, severe abdominal pain, cramping, and anemia. She was physically affected for months afterward, and is spiritually affected to this day. Once a vivacious, fun-loving, free-spirited girl, she now carried with her a burden of extreme sorrow.

She refused all attempts to talk about our ordeal, and by her words and actions, I realized that she experienced something so much more profoundly horrible than she expected, and she didn’t want to ever be reminded of it. That meant that I would have to deal with my tortured emotions alone, as we agreed not to tell anyone of our act. This proved to be too much for me to bear, and our relationship was never the same again. One murderous act succeeded in killing not only our child, but the incredible love we had for one another.

After writing the song, “I Wonder,” I knew I had to contact her again, as I didn’t want her to be surprised if she read or heard the song without being prepared. After 25 years, she was finally able to open up and talk about her ordeal, and she shared with me the regrets of her heart. She told me that it was the worst mistake of her life, and that she too, wonders each day about what our child would be like today. She admitted that she almost ran out of the clinic when I gave her the option, but something in her told her that her life would be ruined, so she hardened her heart, and stayed. She also confided that she was terrified of the physical act of childbirth, but that she would trade anything to go back in time and run out of the abortion clinic when she had the chance. That one split-second decision changed her life forever, and she’s forever sorry for going through with the abortion. She has paid a great price for her “easy way out”, and has battled severe depression ever since. She admits that there’s a wound in her heart that she knows will never be healed, at least in this life. Fortunately, she now has two wonderful young sons and a loving husband, but she is reminded every day of what could have been.

As for me, I was deeply affected for many years, convinced that I had blown my best chance for happiness, and was sure that God could never forgive me for such an inhuman crime. The guilt and shame was overwhelming, and literally ruined my life for over a decade. I praise the Lord that now I am blessed beyond my dreams with a Godly wife and three incredible sons, 11, 8, and 5 years of age. I am grateful to God that I have found forgiveness and restoration through the shed blood of the Lord Jesus Christ. I will never forget, however, the life that God intended to be born, I helped to murder.

Don’t let anyone tell you that abortion is a quick, easy solution to an unwanted pregnancy. What appears to be an easy solution has life-long, even eternal, consequences that are devastating and life-ruining. Even after 25 years, I am still haunted by the memories of that day, and the lost life of my beloved son. Every day of my life, I know that I’ll wonder.

If you are considering having an abortion, don’t do it. I know you’re scared, in so many ways. Stop worrying. There is hope. There is help. There are counselors near you that can help you through this difficult time, and the end result will be a wondrous, incredible gift of life. More love and blessings than you can possibly imagine. You will love your baby with a love so powerful that you would gladly give your life if necessary to save your child. It’s a perfect God-given love that defies description until you experience it first-hand. You’re in for a wonderful, life-enhancing experience if you choose life.

On the other hand, if you choose death, I can’t emphasize how horribly traumatic the experience is, and the long-term consequences are intensely painful. Take a look at a priceless newborn baby, then imagine a “respectable” doctor senselessly ripping that
infant apart, limb from limb, as that precious baby screams in agony. It’s a terrifying, repulsive image, isn’t it? It’s hard to even comprehend such blatant evil against such a pure, innocent, helpless baby.

Abortion is the same thing. Murder. Cold-blooded, heartless, unbelievably evil murder.

Abortion is the same thing.

Don’t do it.

Hurting from Abortion? You're not alone....
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You can email Wayne : w.auman@hotmail.com