Nebraskans will soon begin voting on the pro-abortion Initiative 439 that would legalize abortion in all nine months of pregnancy, force taxpayers to fund abortion, threaten current health and safety regulations, allow abortion clinic employees to decide if a baby is “viable” and can be aborted, and remove parental rights. Bishop Conley has urged all Nebraskans to vote AGAINST Initiative 439 that creates a culture of abortion that is simply “un-Nebraskan.” He has also encouraged a vote FOR Initiative 434, which provides baseline protections in the state constitution for unborn babies beginning in the second and third trimester.
As we prepare for these important votes for our state, the following column is submitted by a Nebraska man who, while in high school, made the decision with his girlfriend to abort the baby they had conceived. His identity has been verified by the Southern Nebraska Register, but he writes anonymously out of respect for the woman, who is no longer a part of his life.
Early life and faith background
For much of my life, I was a lukewarm Catholic. As a child and teenager, I went to Mass because mom made me, but I didn’t truly understand my faith. In a way, I would go to church on Sunday to learn about Heaven, but I lived like hell the rest of the week.
High school relationship
When I began dating my high school girlfriend, my dad warned me to respect her and not take advantage of her, saying that could lead to pregnancy.
Sadly, I dismissed his warning, telling him that if she did get pregnant, she could just have an abortion. My dad was firm, saying that if I ever was involved in an abortion, he would disown me.
Discovering the pregnancy (late high school years)
It was a Saturday, and I was riding home from Lincoln with my dad after attending the state high school volleyball tournament. My girlfriend, who was also at the tournament, called me in tears. She had been throwing up during warm-ups, and her parents had taken her to be tested.
The test came back positive—she was pregnant.
I said nothing to my dad, who was sitting next to me in the car. I was terrified of him finding out.
The next day, I met with my girlfriend and her parents. Fear overwhelmed me, and with what felt like “walls closing in,” we all made a terrible decision. We took a vote, and all four of us voted for an abortion, to avoid the burden of having a baby in high school. We took an innocent life to avoid burdening ours.
The aftermath of the abortion
My parents didn’t find out. I was too afraid to tell them because I thought my dad would disown me.
My girlfriend’s parents took her to the abortion facility in Bellevue, and the abortion happened. I didn’t tell my parents the truth until 20 years later, and it broke their hearts. Looking back, I just wish I had reached out to them. They deserved to have a voice in the conversation.
After the abortion, my relationship with my girlfriend eventually fell apart. I spiraled into drugs, alcohol, and pornography.
A new chapter: finding love and starting a family
Years later, I would meet the love of my life. She was like a life raft that God threw me while I was drowning. We would soon be married and go on to a have three children after suffering five miscarriages.
When doctors told us it was no longer safe for my wife to bear children, I chose to have a vasectomy, even though it went against Church teaching. We were still going to Mass, but spiritually, we were asleep.
A spiritual awakening: Pentecost 2015
That all changed on Pentecost Sunday in 2015. During Mass, I listened to the story of the apostles in the upper room, when tongues of fire descended upon them. Something sparked in me that day—God reached me. It would be a take a few weeks of really thinking about what had happened that day, but it would eventually culminate with surrender. I surrendered that day.
From that moment on, I had a deep thirst for knowledge of God. My wife and I prayed, and discerned we should reverse the vasectomy. Afterward, we were blessed with a beautiful daughter, and we also became foster parents—a decision that has brought us great joy.
Facing my past and naming my child in Heaven
As I grew in my faith, I began reflecting on the abortion. I realized I had a child in Heaven who I had never named. After praying, I sensed in my heart that the child was a boy, and I decided to name him Peter, after the first pope.
What I didn’t know then: reflecting on the decision
Looking back, I wish I had known in high school what I know now. At the time, I didn’t realize that from the moment of conception, Peter had his own soul and unique DNA.
I didn’t know that there were around 30 families in our area waiting to adopt. I didn’t know that many of these families would have likely helped with the medical costs associated with the pregnancy.
I didn’t know that pregnancy help centers could have provided an ultrasound and shown us that Peter wasn’t just a clump of tissue.
I also didn’t realize that these same centers would have helped with diapers, formula, and baby clothes.
I shouldn’t have made decisions based on fear and anxiety—I’ve since learned that those aren’t from God. I should have reached out for help, and I should have talked to my parents.
The pain of the decision: a lost future
What hurts the most is the finality of the decision. I will never get to pick up the phone and call Peter to ask him how his day is going. I robbed him of the chance to know his parents, his grandparents; to experience a first love, and to have children and grandchildren of his own. I took away not only Peter’s future, but also that of his future descendants.
When I cast my vote to put him to death, I was actually casting my vote against him and all of the souls that could have come from him. I completely aborted his family tree.
The spiritual battle we face
Make no mistake, we are at war—but not against people. We are not at war with those who work at abortion facilities, nor are we at war with Republicans, Democrats, colleges, or universities. We are at war with the Enemy.
“For we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). This is a spiritual battle—a battle for hearts, minds, and souls. Whether we want to be or not, we are in it.
A call to action
We must fight this spiritual battle, not only for the mothers and fathers who have carried the weight of their decisions for years, but for the babies, like Peter, who are counting on us. We cannot afford to lose this battle. There is simply too much at stake.
