Post-abortion ministries are a prime example of this mission.  For those of us who have had abortions, it is encouraging to see the Church's increasing efforts to reach out to us. 

A large number of post-abortion programs are available to women around the country through pregnancy centers, churches, and independent post-abortion ministries. One such program is Rachel's Vineyard, a weekend retreat designed to give women and men suffering from abortion a time for mourning, healing, and rejoicing.  The retreats are held dozens of times each year around the country. 

The "background" or theme of the retreat is meeting Christ in a Vineyard.  The Vineyard is a safe place to share one's story.  The storyteller is free to express her anger, grief and pain.  Each story is the same, and yet very different.  The burden of the past is shared.  For many women, this is the first time they have shared their story with anyone.  Through this process the women no longer feel alone. 

When I entered the Vineyard, I went thinking to observe and to safely keep my distance.  I firmly believed that I had dealt with all the various components of my own abortion experience, and had nothing to personally gain from the weekend.  I was going to write this article and be done with it.  But I was wrong. 

I had paid lip service to the idea that healing after abortion is a process.  I had not anticipated the healing that was waiting for me.  One of the hallmarks of the abortion experience is sealing away the emotions—the grief and despair associated with the act.  I am one of those people who don't deal well with emotion, and  prefer to push it away.  Unfortunately, the consequence of stuffing away all those intense feelings is that eventually they have to come out in some form.  I was in for some healing of my own. 

There are many tears.  The Vineyard is a safe place to finally allow those tears to flow.  It is a place where we could finally acknowledge and discuss the circumstances of our choices.  We were allowed and encouraged to examine what exactly led to the decision. 

This was important for me in that I resented the feeling of helplessness I had experienced during my pregnancy and abortion.  I remembered how alone I felt as I frantically sought a solution to my pregnancy.  I was so frightened and angry.  Not only at those around me, but also at the unborn child and most of all, at myself. 

I remember castigating myself for being so stupid as to get in this situation in the first place.  I felt that this was my problem, of my own making, and that any decision as to its outcome was mine as well.  But at the same time, with all the ambivalence of a person in crisis, I was waiting for rescue.  It never came, and that too made me very angry.  Until I experienced this healing weekend, I never knew just how angry I was about that. 

I was given the freedom and permission to express that anger.  I wasn't the only angry woman there—most of us were, at something or another . . . or someone or another.  In my role as an observer, I saw many forms of anger worn on the faces or held in the voices of the other women there. 

At this weekend, the babies we had aborted truly became our children.  The grief of losing a child is overwhelming, regardless of the circumstances of the loss.  During my earlier healing from abortion, I had named my son and placed him in the arms of the Lord.  But I still had not permitted myself to mourn him.  That weekend my son was mourned as he deserved to be. 

All of us met our children in very personal ways.  The weekend gave each of us an opportunity to privately write to our lost ones, to speak to them, to weep for them.  It gave each of us the opportunity for a private and intimate encounter with our children and our Lord. 

We also had the opportunity to grieve the other losses we had experienced as a result of our abortions.  Some of us carry permanent consequences from our abortions, the things no one told us to expect.  At the retreat, we had an opportunity to express our pain over those consequences. 

My very personal pain, and one consequence of my abortion, was a miscarriage several years after my abortion.  Any healing and grieving I had done before was focused on Paul, my aborted son.  But suddenly I felt the need to grieve for Kathryn, my miscarried daughter.  I realized that in my quest for relief from the pain I felt inside that I had never really mourned her, much less acknowledged her as my daughter.  I was too busy being angry with everyone else, including God. 

There were many tears that weekend, but they were healing tears.  Tears that really needed to be shed and let out of the dark corners of the heart where they had hidden themselves.  Other women there had their own moments of insight.  They were gently encouraged to allow themselves to acknowledge their feelings, then deal with them in healthy ways. 

We were permitted and encouraged to express our rage and pain over the failures and/or betrayals of others in our lives during our abortion decision.  Then we were not only encouraged to forgive those involved in the decision, but ourselves as well—which is sometimes the most difficult part.  Through this meeting with Christ in the Vineyard, memories of abandonment, pain, and confusion were replaced by reconciliation with those toward whom we harbored secret anger. 

At the end of the weekend, we are able to lay our children to rest in the arms of Jesus.  There was no condemnation.  There was no shaming, aside from the shame that we had heaped on ourselves.  When a woman leaves, she leaves her shame behind. 

The weekend lasts from Friday night to Sunday evening, giving the participants ample opportunity to meet with our Lord.  The atmosphere is warm and loving.  Only first names are used, and privacy is strictly guarded. 

At the end of the weekend the healing in many women was obvious.  The very countenance of some of the women dramatically changed.  Women who arrived angry and guarded left lighter, smiling.  Women who arrived feeling betrayed and abandoned left secure in the love of the Lord.  The transformation is amazing—and hard to describe. 

We left with a sense of closure.  Our past abortions are no longer the monster waiting in the shadows to spring out, seize us unaware, and drag us into the darkness.  In the Vineyard, our abortions lost their power over us.  We left the Vineyard, if not completely free of pain and regret, then well along the path of healing, and most importantly, living in a deeper relationship with the Lord. 
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Ann Vogel is a registered nurse and co-founder of Women at Risk / Women for Hope and Justice, an advocacy group of post-abortive women and their families.  For more information on Rachel's Vineyard retreats, call 877-HOPE-4-ME.