Abortion Clinic Worker Quits After Seeing Aborted Babies, “They Were The Faces of God’s Children”

National   Steven Ertelt   Oct 27, 2014   |   11:04AM    Washington, DC

The pro-life movement is blessed to have quite a number of former abortion practitioners, abortion clinic operators, and abortion facility staff who are now passionately pro-life. They are some of the leading figures talking about the horrors of what goes on in abortion clinics — where unborn babies and women are both violated by abortions.

In many cases, what led them to exit the abortion industry was a confrontation with abortion itself and a final awakening of their senses that they were involved in the sad and tragic destruction of human life.

On her Facebook page, Abby Johnson shares the story of an abortion worker who called it quits on August 8th. She was concerned about quitting because of the adverse financial impact it would have on her family. After all, the abortion industry and jobs in it are lucrative.

ultrasound4d46Here is her story:

“I left the abortion clinic I worked at August 8th. My husband and I were in no shape financially for me to leave and there were many great perks that came with my job there. I had excellent pay, health and life insurance that were no cost to me, three weeks of paid vacation annually, tuition reimbursement, and 401K that they would match dollar for dollar to what I contributed.

Every morning as I walked in I would hear a kind voice outside the fence, a bit distanced from the shouting crowd, that would offer to help me find a new job. I usually ignored it. I sat behind bullet proof glass every day and watched the sad, hardened faces of so many women walk up the steps to the clinic and walk out drugged, teary eyed, and heartbroken.

I was set up to start training in the pathology lab in the coming weeks and I was scheduled one day just to “sit in” and see what happens in there.

Click here to sign up for daily pro-life news alerts from LifeNews.com

In a tiny room with a “Biohazard” sign on the door I met God. In tiny little petri dishes, neatly displayed with a patient’s name sprawled on each label with the giant letters POC printed on them were the tiny little faces of God’s children. Some of them weren’t recognizably human but most of them clearly were. There I sat face to face with about twenty people. Twenty people who you couldn’t see walk through the door, twenty people who didn’t get to plead their case in the counseling room, twenty people whose little hearts were barely able to beat, twenty people who didn’t get a choice, twenty people who would be tossed in a freezer at the end of the day to wait and be carted off to a burn site as medical waste. Medical Waste or Product of Conception were the only names these people would ever be given.

I left work that day with such a heavy sorrow in my heart. I have never felt those type of intense emotions before. I prayed to God that night to show me a way out. I shamefully went into work the next morning and I heard the kind voice outside the fence again. But everything was different that day. I decided when I left I was going to reach out to these people and I wasn’t going to remain a part of this.”