One Client's Story

My name is Julia Mourer and this is my story …

I was 18 years old and a first-year student at Miami University when I found out I was pregnant with my second child. I remember thinking to myself, “Oh no, not again.”

You see, I had dropped out of high school just a few months from graduation; the pressures of my life were too overwhelming for me to concentrate on school matters. While other teenagers were getting ready for homecoming and prom, I was working 2 jobs, living with my boyfriend and trying to go to high school simultaneously.

I ended my relationship with my boyfriend of 4 years and found myself on my own raising a 2 yr old with no high school diploma, no friends, and no financial means of supporting my family. However, I was not without determination so I studied and obtained my G.E.D., applied and was accepted to Miami University. It was then I made the decision to move back home with my mother. Things were beginning to look up. I was certain that my future was going to be very different from my past. But I underestimated the bondage of my past and ended up at square one… pregnant again?

Still struggling with the chains of my past…

Growing up I lived with a wonderful caring mother who provided for her children but she worked a lot leaving my siblings and I home alone most of the time. Therefore we children just sort of took care of one another while she worked to put food on the table and keep a roof over our head. My mother had divorced my father when I was very young so he rarely ever came around. Having suffered years of physical abuse at his hand my mother seemingly swore off future relationships. She never remarried yet she had the responsibility for 3 children on her own. However, this decision was not without consequences. The environment bred by children raising children gave room for obsessive-compulsive behaviors to take root, severe generalized anxiety, numerous addictions to drugs and alcohol, and an insatiable desire to be accepted and loved.

Looking for Love in all the wrong places…

I was in college but I had not changed the risky sexual behaviors that I had become an accustomed to while in high school. I felt like a slave bound by the chains of promiscuity. I knew about “safe sex” but my lack of self worth, dignity and self-respect gave it low priority. When I discovered I was pregnant by a casual acquaintance it was as if I was caught in a bad dream unable to awake. I knew I couldn’t take care of another baby, yet I didn’t believe in abortion so the logical choice for me was seemingly adoption.

Choosing Life…

I told my family that I was pregnant but that I was not going to keep the baby; I had chosen to place it for adoption. Instead of my family being proud of my courageous and seemingly responsible decision they reacted as though I had just murdered someone. They immediately began to attempt to persuade me not to give the baby up. If you could only imagine, my feelings of confusion and helplessness were overwhelming. I felt as if I was caught between a rock and a hard place with nowhere to run and no one to turn to.

A place of refuge…

I know that it was God that led me to The Pregnancy Care Center (also A.K.A The Oxford Pregnancy Crisis Center) they were kind and had an empathetic ear for my circumstance and situation. Without judging or criticizing me for my self- made problem, I perceived that the most important thing to them was that I was well informed of all my options regarding my unborn child. They genuinely had my unborn child’s best interest at heart. They calmed my fears with God’s word in regards to adoption and myths and gave me as much support as I needed to get through the decision making process.

Things go from bad to worse…

In the meantime my doctor calls me into his office because they have found some abnormal cell growth on my cervix. They also inform me that the cramping I’ve been experiencing is not due to my pregnancy (6wks) but an abnormal cyst has been detected on one of my ovaries and surgery would have to be performed immediately. It was at this time I was informed that I would most likely lose the unborn child I was carrying. The Pregnancy Care Center began to pray with me and prepare me emotionally for the possibility of a miscarriage.

Let the decisions begin…

The surgery successfully removed the cyst but it was not without casualty I lost my right ovary but they had managed to perform the surgery without interrupting the pregnancy. At this time the doctors informed me that I would need to take an experimental drug called Delalutin (a drug used to promote the pregnancy). I was informed that the side affects of the drugs would most likely cause my child to be born with severe brain damage, so much so, his brain stem could be detach from the spine. The physician informed me that even if I chose to bring this child into the world I could quite possibly lose my life in the process. An ultrasound had shown that I had large fibroid tumors lodged into the uterine wall and they were slowly bleeding. I was in desperate need of aggressive treatment that would cut into the uterus where my unborn baby was now resting. If I chose to prolong the surgery until after the birth both the child and I could die.

Choosing life against all odds…

Now I would be faced with choosing life or death not only for my unborn child but also for myself. Here I was 18 years old, haven’t even begun to live and now I’d have to prepare to possibly die. It was at this time I knew I needed divine direction. I kept asking myself do I dare to bring a child into the world only to watch him die or should I chose to have an abortion/the surgery? The Pregnancy Care Center knew the medical circumstances surrounding my decision and I could tell they did not want to advise against the physician’s recommendation especially regarding my life. Yet they were seemingly moved with compassion for me and began to help me to seek God for answers. With the loving direction of the centers staff they helped me to make the biggest decision of my families life. I chose to let God be God and if I perished…I perished.

A child is born…

38 weeks into my pregnancy my uterus collapsed, the unborn child went into distress and had to be taken by emergency c-section. Upon the delivery of my son I developed a rare blood disorder called DIC. This is a condition affecting the body's natural ability to regulate blood-clotting functions.

But nine blood transfusions and 1600 cc of plasma later I was stabilized and placed in I.C.U. My baby boy, named, Marques-Paul was placed in I.C.U. for pediatrics and treated for breathing difficulties where he stabilized after many days. I decided that after all I went through to have him that I would keep him.

Marques-Paul is a healthy normal 13-year-old teenager today. The decision I made to keep him was not without its challenges but the decision to chose life at all cost has given me reward beyond all measure.