True story by Jen Shroder (son pictured)
1/25/05 permission to repost granted

The broken wicker basket sat in the corner. It was all I had to welcome my baby into the world. I was five months pregnant, in a town I didn’t know, listening to the loud shouts of my new drug-dealing neighbors. I had arrived here on a bus a few weeks before, in darkness and rain, curiously stared at by angry, starving drug addicts living in the park. I couldn’t even walk in the beautiful woods of Arcata because of all the pot that was grown in the wilderness, trespassers were shot on sight.

These were frightening surroundings to raise a child in.

I used to stare at the wicker basket on the soiled carpet and cry. I had nothing to give this child, no skills to make a life for us. Up until then all I cared about were parties and a ski pass. I never took life seriously and I had completely bought into the "if it feels good, do it" mentality I learned in high school, with Planned Parenthood’s backup plan to abort unwanted pregnancies as a safeguard. But I couldn’t go through with it. The consequences at the end of the tunnel were a lot more shocking than we were led to believe, babies FEEL their bodies being ripped apart in the womb, their skulls crushed and their brains sucked out. This is not "PLANNED" parenthood, it’s government funded "PLANNED" butchery of our innocent children, with prices paid for their body parts.

The wicker basket wasn’t much, but at least he would be alive. I began scrounging for baby clothes until one day I started to think about adoption. I didn’t like the idea, but I thought I should consider it. I went to the State, I didn’t want anyone making money from the prospect.

Jean worked at the adoption agency. She gave me descriptions of five families that had hoped to adopt for years. One profile stood out above the rest, Julie and Brian had faith and Jean showed me their picture. I met with them and they seemed ideal. Suddenly I felt as though I was standing between my child and a wonderful chance at life.

Julie couldn’t have children thanks to the Delcon shield, (thanks displanned parenthood), a birth control device that had destroyed her womb. She had longed for children for seven years and had just about given up when she got the call.

Over the next few months Julie became my Lamaze coach. I never knew her last name. She was taking a risk too, that I wouldn’t just show up someday and interfere if I went through with this.

Normally adoption laws demand that babies live with foster homes for 6 weeks before placement, but I insisted that my son was going home with Julie or I wasn’t giving him up. Julie had to submit to adoption policies, but I didn’t, and the adoption agency hustled to skip foster care. Our son was born on Julie’s birthday, and she believed that was God whispering in her ear that this was meant to be. At the time I didn’t believe it, but looking back after knowing God much better myself, I can see His hand all over it. God never meant for me to toss away my maidenhood as I had, or for Julie to damage her womb, but He forgave us of our mistakes and blessed both of us. Julie sent me pictures of our son and wrote long detailed letters about him as he was growing up. It hurt so much on his birthdays and Christmas, but I knew he was happy and alive and loved. What a contrast to Planned Parenthood’s alternative. There are so many times I wished I had kept him, but I never regretted my decision against aborticide. I get angry at the thought of what those murderous "doctors" and smiling nurses would have done.

I have held the hands of many friends in high school as they went through abortion and assured them it would be all right. None of us fully realized what we were doing. We were children. We were misled. We wanted so much to be grown up and Planned Parenthood taught us false ideals of what that meant. We made huge mistakes. We have paid dire consequences. Public schools should not conspire with Planned Parenthood against parents who would advise their children to wait and honor their virtue. Young teens don’t need winking nurses handing them condoms and shoving them toward their boyfriends. Our government should stop separating church and state and start separating trusting adolescents from murder.

See part 1: How Planned Parenthood impacted my youth

Another source of aborted body parts for sale