Abortion Vulnerability and Triumph Over The Axe, Dream Series (Part 2)

The Axe by Melissa Yeomans
“In my hand I held an axe. I knew what it was for. The axe flashed brightly before me like a savior, Blinding me in my desperation. I knew what must be done.” The Axe

Part 2 of Dream Series The Axe. The Window. The Board. by Melissa Yeomans
Illustrations by Amy Sun Hee (Complete eBook Available Here)

The Axe.


In the basement, with all the others,

Everyone mingled, crowded.

Voices filled up the space.

I found myself there.


I was still there after all had left,

All but my mother.


It was then that I saw them on the floor,

Naked and small.

Twin babies.


Helpless, disabled babies.


I turned to Mother.

She was gone.


I knew all about caring for babies.

Had I not raised my own?


Feeding my healthy babies every three hours … diapering … sleepless nights.


Blood, sweat, tears, and joy.

That’s what motherhood is made of.


A sacred gift.


But I had not signed up for this!

Who would sign up for this?


This was a line I could NOT cross.


I felt my heart stiffen for fear of the sacrifice I was called to.

So hard it would have been to keep them alive.

Disabled twins.

No one to help me.


I was strong, but not that strong.


In my hand I held an axe.

I knew what it was for.


The axe flashed brightly before me like a savior,


Blinding me in my desperation.

I knew what must be done.


I must make a different kind of sacrifice.




All the ideals I aspired to were sucked out of me,

Like oxygen in the presence of flame.


I was suffocating.

The weight of my circumstance crushed down on me.

My faith flew away without a song.


In autopilot I took aim



Down on the little ones.


I hit the baby’s shoulder.

Again, I aimed and swung down hard.

Hitting yet somehow missing.


They did not cry out.

I tried again.


The axe …

Third swing hits me hard in the heart.

I should have seen BLOOD now,

but I didn’t.


The BABY I was trying to KILL should be DEAD,

But she wasn’t.


I froze.

Axe in hands.


I felt my stomach lurch.

A wave of nausea washed over me.

I fought off the urge to vomit.

Guilt and pain smothered my heart,

Hot, heavy, and dirty.

I had swung the axe.


I froze.

Axe in hands.


I could see in that moment the only thing that really mattered.


It wasn’t


My time,


My convenience,


My plans,


My “family.”


It never was My life or theirs.


It was us,


Always us.


I threw down the axe!


Kneeling down on that basement floor,

I scooped them up, looked them over.

Miraculously, they had not been harmed.


They were perfect. They were alive.

They were mine now.


Nothing else mattered.


I loved them with all of my heart.

Nothing else mattered.


My babies! I cried for joy!


My mother returned.


Before she could ask all her questions,

I answered.


“See, these are my babies, Mother. I will take care of them.


I need them to live, and they need me.”


Pondering the Axe

In this dream, I was forced to see that given a set of circumstances, I would pick up the axe, which represents abortion.

Pushed to the edge and without support, I believed the lie that the babies must die for me to go on living, that I was doing the humane thing. The babies would be difficult if not impossible to keep alive; they were “unwanted” and so, better off dead.

So quickly I fell prey to the lie of abortion!

There is not a woman on earth beyond the temptation.

As if that weren’t enough, we live in a broken world that tries to push the axe into our hands when we are most vulnerable. Telling us we must choose! Telling us we will demonstrate our strength and independence by taking “pregnancies” out of OUR BODIES and into our hands. There are many willing to help us do it. Indeed, for a dollar, they will pick up the axe for us so we don’t have to do it ourselves.

We live in a fallen flesh that keeps reaching for the axe offered. The reasons, real and so many—abandonment, poor timing, fear, health risks, educational goals, poverty, population, imperfection, pain, abuse, selfishness, shame … and the list could go on.

Yes, we are broken, but the axe offers no relief, no salvation.

There is no brave and glorious new womanhood in the shadow of the axe. Masking itself as mercy, it steals our children and leaves us empty. A cruel robber, whose cold steel scars our souls.

This is nothing new under the sun. Women are born into a battle and expected to fight, the axe placed into our hands and to our wombs.


The battle lies within our own hearts. Even now, as you read these very words, can you not hear your heart cry for life?

In the place where we are most alive, we long for our children to live.

While the axe will never stop crying out for new blood (on this side of eternity), we must rise up and cry out against it!

Because the axe never loved us! It was never worthy of our touch.

But our children do. And they are.

There are some who, like me in my dream, swung the axe unsuccessfully. They share their testimonies in hope of defeating abortion and all it offers. Beauty, peace, and healing began for them when life was embraced.

One such woman’s journey birthed a mighty anthem raised against the axe.

Kimberly Henderson sat waiting for hours in an abortion clinic, a single mother planning to terminate her fourth child. When her turn finally came, she went to the counter. As she was looking for her driver’s license, a card someone had recently left for her on a table she had served as a waitress fell out of her purse. It had on it the Bible verse, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10, along with the name of a church.

A few words changed everything.

She left the clinic that day. Her story continued after she gave birth to her daughter Vaida, when a lullaby she sang to her went viral. The rest is history.

Here is the link to Kimberly’s story and her beautiful hit song, “Tiny Heartbeats.”

And there are more anti-axe testimonies here:

Claire CulwellRebekah BuellAbortion Pill Reversal  – Ally  – Another

There are others who followed through, and many who immediately after abortion felt the same regret and despair I felt after swinging the axe.

I spoke recently with a leader of Rachel’s Vineyard, who told me that most often five to thirty years pass before a woman reaches out to those who are waiting to help (by walking alongside her through the grieving and healing process). Most post-abortion counselors have also experienced abortion. Love, not shaming, is waiting for you there. You don’t have to grieve alone. My prayer is for your healing.

If you have other feelings regarding your abortion decision, such as relief, know you are loved all the same. Every woman has the right to face and feel about her experience in a way as unique as the individual that she is.

This page can help you understand the different healing services offered to those grieving abortion: www.afterabortion.org.

If you are facing an unintended pregnancy and want honest answers regarding the choices that are available to you, please visit: www.carenet.org.

Many women are pressured into abortions. They are made to feel they have no choice by those who should support them and their baby. Please visit: www.theunchoice.com.

If you are interested in learning the facts about abortion, its history, and the whole conversation surrounding it legally, please visit: www.abort73.com.

(Complete eBook Available Here)

Dream Series Cover Framed

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