Socorro’s friends and fellow And Then There Were None “Quitter Tribe” members use words like ‘fearless’ and ‘authentic’ when describing her.
Socorro became part of ATTWN’s tribe of Quitters in an unconventional way. When she quit her job at the Aurora, Illinois Planned Parenthood she posted a video publicly. When ATTWN staff saw this video, they sent her a message letting her know that, as is the case for anyone with past or current involvement in the abortion industry, we are here to help.
Socorro replied to ATTWN and was so excited to learn that there was an organization to help current or former abortion clinic workers with their journeys and transitions out of the industry, as well as with their healing. Despite ATTWN’s regular outreach to abortion facilities, she had never heard of ATTWN or Abby Johnson before.
Growing up, Socorro attended church occasionally, but not on a regular basis.
“My grandmother was a big influence on me and a strong believer. She instilled in me that church was important. I was baptized and confirmed,” she said.
Abortion was discussed in Socorro’s household by her aunt and grandmother, who was more of a mother figure to her.
“When it came to abortion, my grandma and aunt were a ‘no’,” she said. “It wasn’t introduced to me until I was in high school. I was told that I needed to save myself for marriage, and that no one was to have access to my body, which is a temple. My grandma always told me to not let men take advantage of me and to give myself respect. Also, she warned me about the risks of being raped and tried to teach me about not putting myself in unsafe situations with men.”
Socorro’s mother and father married because at the age of fifteen, her mother was pregnant. At the time, her father was seventeen. Their marriage ended in divorce 15 years later.
“The divorce was a difficult time for me. I had no control over that. I stayed with my grandmother during that time,” she said. “She was like my mother and when she passed away in 2017, it was so hard. I want to honor her with my life. Her name was Teresa.”
When Socorro became a first-time mom herself, she was desperate to find a position in the medical field. One of her friends was a medical assistant at a “clinic.”
“I didn’t know what the clinic did at the time,” she said. “I thought it was only family planning. Once I got the job, I found out all the details. They did everything from family planning to abortions up to 24 weeks (about 5 and a half months). At the time I left, they had been preforming abortions up to 32 weeks.”
Socorro was never comfortable with this, but as a single mom without a lot of support, she was desperate for a job and tried to tell herself she was helping women and not think about what was actually happening at work every day.
“Now, I so wish I would have gone with my gut and morals about working there,” she said. “I just desperately needed a job. I needed money to be stable for my son. At first, I was only doing family planning. When the clinic changed to 32 weeks (about 7 and a half months), I was thrown into abortions. It honestly felt like a dungeon. It was a shocking situation. I cried the first time I witnessed an abortion. My spirit was grieving.”
Socorro also started to see the truth about the abortion industry and how they cared about women and treated them. Raised by strong women with strong values like her grandma who had poured into her and instilled a moral compass, this bothered her on a deep level.
“Women were treated like cattle,” she said. “Get them in. Get them out. It was a business. It quickly became clear to me that this was a business, and it was all about the money, not about the women at all.”
Initially, Socorro just tried to keep her head down, do her job, and push the ugly truth to the back of her mind.
“I kept quiet at first because I was the new girl,” she said. “I didn’t want to have other workers seeing me show too much compassion for the girls and women. The attitude was, ‘Hey, they got themselves into this position. We are here to take care of it and get them out of it.’”
Throughout the three years that Socorro worked at the clinic, she was thankful to avoid having to work in the POC, or Products of Conception lab. This is a room that exists in every facility that performs abortions, in which an employee is assigned the grizzly task of reassembling the body parts of the baby to make sure that nothing – a head, an arm – was left inside the uterus to avoid a serious infection for the woman.
“During this time, I found myself on the fence,” she said. “As a new mom, I knew I could never personally have an abortion. But my heart began to grow cold and hardened. I was numb. I told myself in some way that I was helping.”
Working in the clinic took its toll on Socorro’s everyday life as well. Even spending time with her son became a struggle for her.
“When I would come home from work and see my son, it was a challenge,” she said. “I would brush it off. I tried to forget about everything that I knew happened at work every single day.”
The protestors outside the clinic confronted Socorro one day and that interaction stuck with her.
“I was getting out of my car one day and one of the protestors saw that I had a car seat in the back,” she said. “He asked me how I could work at an abortion clinic as a mom. Initially, it scared me. Then it made me mad. I was ashamed. I didn’t want to hear the truth. I knew I was being condemned by them, and honestly, it sucked.”
Socorro was still living with her grandma, who would pray for her constantly. “She would tell me that I didn’t need to work there,” Socorro said. However, Socorro did not want to be a financial burden on her grandmother or anyone else. She felt stuck.
“I had never heard of the And Then There Were None,” she said. Information mailed from ATTWN to the clinic was always intercepted and quickly thrown away.
When Planned Parenthood’s new medical director increased the gestational age limit for abortions to be performed up to 32 weeks (about 7 and a half months) at Socorro’s facility, the management wanted to be certain that no staff member would be problematic. The medical director drew up contracts for each employee to sign stating that they had no objections to later term abortions. Socorro could no longer stay silent.
“I was finally able to vocally object,” she said. “I just could not. My son was born prematurely. I knew what he looked like as a preemie. I refused to sign. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Then, they fired me. They were definitely retaliating against me. Everyone else signed and stayed.”
Once Socorro was fired from the clinic, every single person whom she had thought was a friend during her three-year career at the clinic stopped talking to her completely.
“Looking back, it is funny how things happened,” she said. “This is my testimony. I was so out of touch with God during this time. When Covid hit, I had to finally stop and take a look at myself in the mirror and find a way to cope with everything. God was working on me, and I honestly wanted to seek Him. I wanted to get into His word.”
Two years later in 2022, Socorro started posting on TikTok about her experiences as a former abortion worker and how it affects women and workers spiritually.
“So many people were extremely negative,” she said. “Many others were so encouraging to me. Someone kept tagging Abby Johnson on my videos. Someone from ATTWN reached out to let me know that I was not alone, and there was help for current and former abortion clinic workers like me. It took me a full year until I was able to meet Abby, but now I have attended phase one, two, and three Healing Foundations weekends with my fellow ATTWN Quitters and staff.”
At first, Socorro wasn’t sure what to expect when she bravely flew out to meet with a bunch of strangers with whom she only had one thing in common: their participation in the abortion industry.
“The first retreat made me feel seen,” she said. “I related to the other women. When you work at a clinic, you need to shut your emotions off. I was able to release so many things that even I didn’t know I was holding onto. I was relieved to feel so validated and safe.”
As is often the case, Socorro struggled with the things she witnessed and took part in at the clinic.
“I had a hard time believing that God would forgive me,” she said. “I know and I was told that He loved me, regardless of what I had partaken in. It has taken a lot, but it has been a beautiful experience.”
Currently, Socorro works as a Human Resources Coordinator and volunteers at her church. She coaches her son’s soccer team and spends as much quality time with him as possible. She is intentional about teaching her son about things like the value and dignity of human life in an age-appropriate, but no-nonsense way.
“I do not sugarcoat things for my son. I want him to know about abortion and the consequences. He asks a lot of questions. It is hard for kids to grasp why moms don’t want their kids.”
Now that Socorro has attended three Healing Foundations weekends with ATTWN, utilized many other resources, and bonded with her Quitter Tribe, she has come a long way.
“I no longer feel condemnation,” she said. “That first full year after my retreat I struggled. Healing Foundations 201 and 301 helped me to understand that God forgives me. And I finally forgave myself. I made a commitment that I would never again go against my morals. I now feel the full love of God.”
Socorro was so bold, even before she became a part of the Quitter tribe of ATTWN, to let others in the abortion industry know that they are being deceived. Her courage and bravery are commendable and rare.
“When you are in the midst of the darkness, you are just open to it,” she said. “It latches onto you, and you are no longer yourself. It is like a spirit attaches to you. Nothing positive is going to be attached to that spirit.”
She urges other abortion workers, past or present, to listen to their consciences.
“If you feel a tug, or a yearning to not go against your intuition, this is God calling you out of that dark place,” she said. “These clinics often get workers when they are vulnerable, and they somehow make it seem like you are doing the greatest good. It is a lie and a manipulation. Many of us want to get into the medical field because we want to help.”
Socorro continues to grow as a mom and looks forward to her future as a wife and as a committed believer in God.
“I want to grow myself spiritually and continue to carry my cross as I look up at Jesus,” she said. “I have a purpose and I want to fulfill it by spreading the will and word of God. That is my main purpose. Before, my job defined me. Now, it is Christ who defines me. My greatest desire is to instill that into my son.”
Through it all, the dark days behind and her bright future ahead, Socorro credits her grandma for all the prayers offered for her and the love poured into her.
“I thank the Lord for my grandma and all of her love and prayers,” she said. “I hope I can continue to fulfill my purpose now that I understand the power of prayer. I am so thankful for her that she prayed me out of that darkness and for ATTWN.”
