Choice

by Kennedy, Allison J.

  “What kind of repercussions would there be if I don’t do it?” I retorted. “I can list a few, the first being a baby.”

  She shook her head. “Girls who have abortions are more likely to struggle with suicidal thoughts. Lots of them dream about their infant for years to come.”

  Anger simmered in my veins. “This isn’t a convenience thing. There’s no way in hell I’ll regret this, and you know it.” I sighed heavily. “Everyone has an opinion regarding what I should do with this . . . intruder in my body. But nothing could be worse than having to look at its face and see Tyler for the rest of my life.” At that moment, I saw him coming up the hall with his throng of followers. We met eyes briefly and I was the first to look away.

  “How can you even be in the same school with him?” Addison asked. “You already have to see his face.”

  “I don’t have a choice. And he hasn’t said a word to me except to apologize, so I can at least avoid him most of the time.”

  “Look,” Addison said, tucking a loose wisp of hair behind her ear. “I love you, May. You’re my best friend. That’s why I feel like I need to be honest with you and help you make an informed decision. What kind of friend would I be if I said nothing and blindly supported a choice that could affect you in a way you might never expect?”

  My anger dissolved a little. “I know you’re looking out for me. And I promise I’ll think about it. But I need to know something. Will you support me if I still choose my way?”

  She pulled me into a hug. “You know I will.”

  I squeezed her. “I can’t believe I’m even in this position,” I whispered. “This all feels like just some nightmare I’ll wake up from if I try hard enough. When will I wake up?”

  She let go of me but took my hands. “Have you ever had a nightmare that was so awful you knew you were dreaming? And somehow you managed to make yourself dream about something else?”

  “Once or twice,” I nodded.

  “You can’t wake up from this one, but maybe you can find your way into a new dream.”

  Her wisdom gave me hope. I drew on her strength. “I’ll try.”

  * * *

  THE SKY HAD OPENED UP on the way to the abortion clinic. Mom parked in one of the few spaces allotted for patients. I stared at the building beyond the windshield wipers that beat back and forth; back and forth. I was just about to unbuckle my seatbelt when she started talking.

  “You were a surprise. Your father and I hadn’t even planned on having children.”

  I looked at her, confused. She continued, staring at something in the distance. “When I was pregnant with you, I had all of these expectations. I thought motherhood would be a breeze: I would come home from work, pay the nanny, and spend the rest of the evening bonding with you. I thought you would be a heavy sleeper like your father, and quiet and reserved like me.” A dreamy smile came to her lips and she shook her head. “You screamed constantly. When we took you home from the hospital, you didn’t stop crying for six months. There was one night I lost an important court case and you were wailing, and I was so stressed I began to cry myself, and I asked your father what I was doing so terribly wrong that I couldn’t comfort you.”

  I wondered why she was telling me this. She wiped the corner of her eye with her fingertip and when she spoke again, she was struggling for control. “But you know, he could pick you up and instantly you would calm down. I had been telling myself that you were just a difficult baby; that it was a phase you would grow out of. But I realized I just didn’t have it. I didn’t have mothering capabilities, nor the instinct to give you what you needed.” She looked at me and a mascara-tinged tear slipped down her cheek. “But as ill-prepared as I was, and as horrible I was at all of this, it didn’t change how much I loved you. I don’t show it nearly enough. Sometimes I don’t think I know how. But I fell in love for the first time when I saw you. And I have watched you grow into an independent, bold, compassionate, fiery young woman that I am so proud of. Please forgive me for withholding how I’ve truly seen you throughout these years. Forgive me for resenting the fact that I wasn’t enough. I just wanted to be enough.”

  I reached out to her and hugged her tightly, resting my cheek on her shoulder while we both cried together for the first time since I was a baby. “I forgive you.”

  She combed her fingers through my hair and exhaled like she was letting go of that guilt. “Even though you’ve made a mistake, I’m still proud of you.” We looked at each other when I sat back. “I don’t want to see you choose a life that will be more difficult than you are prepared for. But I want you to know that if you choose to keep this child, you will have your father’s and my blessing.”

  I nodded, but I was more confused than ever about the path I should take. What if I didn’t see Tyler’s face when I looked at my child? What if it could be a blessing in disguise? What if there was more to this than I thought?

  Two weeks. Only two weeks and a few days had passed, and so much had changed. My innocence had been taken from me. I had almost given my heart to someone who I thought might be able to fix me. I had possibly broken his in my selfishness. And now I was pregnant. I wondered what else could possibly add to this invisible burden I felt pressing me into the ground.

  “Let’s go,” she said. We dashed through the rain under a single umbrella.

  Twenty-Three

  MOM CLOSED THE UMBRELLA after we stepped through the glass door of the clinic. I looked around the room and noticed there was only one other patient: a woman sitting in a chair in the corner, blotting her face with a crumpled up tissue. I wondered if she had been raped too. The air felt sterile but musty, as if the carpet was holding onto dust and moisture. My heart thumped unevenly as I approached the desk, greeted by an older woman with a stylish black bob. “Good afternoon,” she smiled, setting her cup of coffee aside. “Can I help you?”

  I looked at my mom, expecting her to inform the receptionist of why we were here, but she only gave me an encouraging nod to speak for myself. I met eyes with the woman and forced the words out. “I want to talk to someone about an abortion?” I said, but it sounded like a question; I wasn’t even sure if that was what I wanted, even though I knew how badly I wanted this to be over with.

  “Alright. Our clinic requires a pre-abortion consult before you schedule an actual appointment. Please collect your urine in this cup and we will confirm pregnancy while you fill out your medical history. What is your name?”

  I cleared my throat. “May O’Hara.”

  She nodded and scribbled on the side of a plastic cup with a blue lid. After setting it in front of me, she pointed to the bathroom around the corner. “There’s a little door in the bathroom. When you’re finished, set the cup on the shelf behind it and we will take it from there.”

  I took the cup and tapped my finger on it while I made my way to the bathroom. The woman in the corner looked up at me and offered a sad smile, which I couldn’t return. I closed the door, exhaling a breath I had been holding as I looked at myself in the mirror.

  My eyes were sunken in and dull. I was pale and thin. What had happened to me? Where had I gone? Stop moving! Tyler shouted in my mind. My face stung where he hit me. I touched my cheek, tracing the area that still hurt, but not from an actual bruise. I wondered if it would always hurt. I wondered if I would ever stop hearing him in my mind; feeling him invading my innocence. I tore myself away from the mirror and did what the nurse had asked. Before I left, I scrubbed my face with the icy water that refused to turn warm. I rested my palms on the porcelain sink and watched the water drip off of my face, taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves.

  Mom was waiting for me with the clipboard in her lap. I sat next to her and took it, seeing she had already filled in my personal information. “Thank you,” I mumbled, working through the checklist. They really wanted to know everything—everything down to my sexual activity, my exposure to STDs, what my symptoms were, and a dozen other gruesome things I couldn’t believe I was r
eading. I felt my mother watching me as I filled it out, my cheeks burning red hot because I might as well have been telling her all of it for myself.

  Luckily, there wasn’t much to tell. I had only had sex one time.

  I finished filling out the final questions just as my name was called by a nurse in pink scrubs. I stood and brought the clipboard to her, then followed her with my mother down a hallway with at least a dozen doors on each side. She hadn’t even greeted me. She looked at me like I was just another face with the same story. “Come on in. I’m Lacy,” she said when we reached a door at the end of the hall. “Have a seat.”

  We sat. On the walls were medical diagrams of a woman’s anatomy, along with a couple inspirational posters that said things like “Nobody can walk in your shoes but you,” and “We are pro-life: your life.”

  “I understand you are considering an abortion, May?”

  “I am,” I answered meekly.

  “Looks like your period was due a few days ago, so that puts you at about four weeks. Would you like me to educate you about the options you have?”

  I nodded.

  “At this point, you have two options. You can either have a medical abortion, which is the non-surgical type of abortion. You would be given an abortifacient medication and your body would go through the process on its own. Your other option would be a surgical abortion. With this option, the fetus and placenta are removed from the uterus with the use of a few simple instruments. You would be awake and the actual procedure only takes about five to ten minutes. Our clinic offers this option as early as four weeks.”

  I was trembling. It all sounded so complicated and traumatic. “Do they hurt? Both ways?”

  She laced her fingers together on the desk and nodded. “With the medication, you would experience intense cramping and moderate to heavy bleeding. Some women say it is no worse than a bad period though. It takes a couple days. With the surgical option, you would only experience minor discomfort throughout the procedure.”

  “I want that one then,” I said without even having to think about it. “I don’t want to be in pain for days. I just want this over with.”

  “I understand. Would you like me to explain the procedure to you in detail so that you know what to expect?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “I don’t want to know about it. I just want it done.”

  She smiled stiffly. “Let me rephrase: I am required to educate you, at least on the basics, so that you can make an informed decision.”

  “And to cover your asses,” Mom interjected.

  The woman didn’t even glance at her. “If at any point what I am saying makes you uncomfortable, please let me know.”

  “Alright,” I relented.

  “When you arrive for your appointment, the doctor will review your medical history and perform an ultrasound to confirm your pregnancy’s gestation. You will not have to see the ultrasound images if you don’t want to. Then you will be given some medication: Ibuprofen, Vicodin, and Valium. These will help with swelling, pain, and anxiety. You will be left alone for a while to let the medications take effect, and then the procedure will begin. During the procedure, the doctor will insert a speculum into your vagina. You will then be cleaned, and your cervix will be numbed with a local anesthetic. The doctor will dilate you, and then he will insert a small tube into your uterus to perform the suction abortion.”

  I was nauseous. My head spun wildly, making me close my eyes. “And then what?”

  “Then you’ll be done. You will be sent home to rest and you can resume normal activities the following day. You will have some bleeding, but no heavier than a normal period.”

  “And the emotional side of things?” Mom asked. “How is she going to feel about this later?”

  “Let me assure you—women all around the world go on to lead normal lives after an abortion. Very few ever regret their decision. But this is why we like to meet with our patients prior to their appointment. We want them to have all the tools necessary to choose what’s best for them. I can also recommend some excellent support groups and counseling resources if her recovery proves to be difficult.”

  “It’s already difficult,” I said. “An abortion won’t change that. So schedule me please. I want this done as soon as possible.”

  “Very well,” the nurse nodded. She turned to her computer and typed a few things. “Would a weekend be best for you?”

  “Of course. She has school,” Mom said.

  Lacy seemed annoyed that my mother was answering for me. “A Saturday please,” I clarified.

  “I can get you in this Saturday at 9AM.”

  “Good,” I said.

  “Don’t eat or drink anything the morning of your appointment. Make sure you don’t consume any alcohol or Aspirin. Dress comfortably. Will you be driving her, ma’am?”

  Mom nodded. “Yes.”

  Lacy slid a business card to me with the doctor’s name and my appointment time scribbled on it. “We will see you then. Please don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions. And if you are at all hesitant over the next few days, we can make you another appointment with one of our counselors.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured and stood with my mother. We exited down the hallway, and the last thing I heard before stepping into the waiting area was a woman groaning in pain behind a closed door.

  That sound followed me to the car and tormented me throughout the duration of our drive home.

  Twenty-Four

  IT WAS 6PM WHEN WE PULLED into our driveway. I didn’t want to be there. We had been silent during the drive and with each passing second, I found myself longing to be alone. I needed to think, and that wasn’t going to happen at my house. “Mom, is it alright if I go to the barn? I only have one assignment tonight and I’m already halfway done with it.”

  “Sure. I think that’d be alright. Do you want to take Grace?”

  I shook my head. “I just need to be alone. I need to think about everything.”

  “Alright,” she said, turning off the ignition. “Just try to be home by eight. I’ll keep dinner warm for you.”

  Since when did Mom cook? I could sense a shift in her demeanor today. I wondered if she blamed herself for my getting pregnant. “Thanks. And I will.”

  I got out of the car and took my backpack to my Jeep.

  * * *

  I WAS THE ONLY ONE at the stable when I arrived. It was actually comforting to think that nobody would want to venture out in this weather but me. Cash was eating the last remnants of his grain when I came to his stall. He saw me and his ears flicked forward, and he left behind the last few pellets to come and see me. “Hey,” I smiled softly and detangled his forelock with my fingers. I braided it between his eyes. “Sorry I haven’t been around.” I sighed. “Let’s ride in the indoor arena today.”

  I didn’t move away from his stall for his halter though. Instead I stared at his enormous, soft brown eyes as they blinked lazily from my touch. My throat tightened. “What am I supposed to do, boy?” I whispered, resting my forehead on his. Tears fell onto his fur. I wondered if there would ever come a day when I wouldn’t cry. “Why did this have to happen? I hate him. I hate him so much.”

  I opened the door and went inside to hug his neck. I buried my face against his shoulder and let myself fall apart. He stood quietly, unmoving. Somehow I knew he was comforting me. I could feel it. I folded my arms on his back and sobbed into the crook of my elbow, wanting to get it all out here and now. I never wanted to feel this broken again.

  Someone touched my shoulder. I gasped and lifted my head, seeing Alex standing behind me. We looked at each other for a moment before he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay,” he whispered by my ear. “I’ve got you.”

  I hesitated at first, but I slowly slid my arms around his waist and clung to him, swallowed in his safe and warm embrace. “What are you doing here?” I asked. The question sounded angry, but it wasn’t. Had he known I needed him?

&
nbsp; “I needed to clear my head. This is where I come to do that.”

  I almost laughed as I let go of him. “Me too,” I said, wiping my face with the sleeve of my hoodie. He looked sad. His eyes were red and swollen. I hoped I hadn’t done this to him, yet I couldn’t believe I was presumptuous enough to think he would be this distraught over the things I said. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked. I didn’t have anything to offer him other than a listening ear, and I definitely didn’t want to talk about my own situation.

  He shrugged and stroked Cash’s jaw. “It’s the anniversary of my parents’ death today,” he said. His voice was course and gravelly. “Officially two years. It just hit me hard, I guess. But I’m alright.” He smiled, but it was the first time Alex had ever smiled that it didn’t look genuine.

  “It’s okay if you’re not,” I assured him. I wished I had something wise to say; some eloquent encouragement to offer that would bring a little bit of light to him on this dark day. “Alex, I’m really sorry about the things I said to you the other day. I put words in your mouth and made assumptions that weren’t fair. You’ve been such a good friend to me over these last couple of weeks.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” he insisted. “I can’t possibly know what this is like for you, but I understood why you pushed me away.”

  I wondered how I could have been so selfish. “No, I do have to apologize. I’m not the only one who’s hurting. It’s like we crossed paths at our lowest points. Your presence in my life confused me because my trust in people has been shaken. Everything I thought I knew about my life has been twisted and torn until I don’t even recognize myself anymore. And you have been so good to me. I think I thought you could fix me.” My eyes flooded. “I’m sorry. If you can forgive me, I promise to be a good friend to you.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said softly. The pain was gone from his face as he looked into my eyes, seeming to want to say more. He was quiet and thoughtful. Accepting. He patted Cash’s neck and turned those sparkling blues on me again. “And I would love your friendship. I think we can help each other be strong. I just hope you know that you’re strong on your own, May. You don’t need anyone to fix you.”