Choice
Page 16
“You didn’t ask to have sex?” she hissed. “Or you didn’t ask to become pregnant? Because they kind of go hand in hand, May. What you’re doing is a copout.”
I had never heard her speak this way before. I had never even heard her raise her voice. And had her first statement not thrown me so far off guard, I would have congratulated her on showing a little emotion. But what she said felt like a noose around my throat, stifling any sort of response. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said slowly.
“I know I’m disappointed. I know the only person I’ve ever really looked up to has proven to have zero integrity.”
I exhaled sharply through my nose, feeling my nostrils flare in rage. I could have strangled her. I could have turned our house upside down and broken every single object within it. “Get out of my room,” I hissed through my teeth. “And don’t ever speak to me that way again. You don’t know anything about this. You think you do, but you don’t.”
“Grow the hell up and take some responsibility,” she snapped as she left.
The slamming door made my eyes slam shut. I grabbed my book bag and left without saying a word to anyone.
Twenty-Six
“SO HAVE YOU DECIDED?” Addison asked as she, Danika, and I sat in the cafeteria for lunch. They both looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.
I pushed my mashed potatoes around with my fork. “Yeah. I’m going through with it. My appointment is tomorrow.”
Addison looked away, squinting in thought. Danika took the opportunity to respond. “If that’s what you want to do, we’re here for you.”
“Thanks.” I glanced around the room, absently scoping Tyler’s whereabouts. I hadn’t even realized this was a habit I had developed. “I was actually wondering if you guys would be willing to come with me? You’d just wait in the waiting room with my mom. I’m really scared and it would help if you were there.”
“Of course,” Danika confirmed. “Anything you need.”
Addison was staring at her lunch tray and hadn’t said a word. I sighed. “Addi? Will you come?”
Her eyes met mine and she looked like she could barely keep her head up. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m here for you and I love you, but I just don’t think I can support this decision.”
“Addison!” Danika snapped. “Are you kidding me? It’s not like you’re the one getting it done. She needs us.”
She looked miserable, like what she was saying was causing her physical pain. “And I’ll be there as soon as you leave that place. Look, this hasn’t been easy for me. I’ve been thinking about this all week. I know you didn’t ask for this, but I can’t convince myself I’m okay with taking an innocent life.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “So you’re taking a microscopic fetus’s side over your best friend’s?”
She dropped her fork. “No. I’m taking your side. You just don’t see that right now.”
“I can’t believe you would be so selfish!” I snapped.
“Me?” she gaped, standing up the same time I did. “I’m not the one who is willing to kill a child for someone else’s mistake!”
“Mistake? What, do you think he just mistakenly forced me to have sex? Or do you mean he mistakenly let the condom break?”
“You know that’s not what I mean. Stop putting words in my mouth! I’m trying to help you.”
“Go to hell, Addison! We’re done.”
The tables nearby fell quiet and I realized several groups had heard me, but I had no idea how much they heard. The only person I met eyes with was Tyler. His fists clenched on the table in front of him. I said nothing else, but I was sure by my expression he knew: he knew I was pregnant, and he knew it was his. That secret loomed in the gap between us; only he knew who I was talking about. I shook my head, wishing I could tell him I hated him. I wished I could make him suffer.
I avoided looking at anyone else as I took my tray to the trash and dumped my entire meal into it before throwing it onto the pile of dirty ones. I shoved through the double doors and made a beeline for the principal’s office.
He looked at me, surprised by my abrupt entrance. “Can I help you, May?”
“I’m sick. I’m going home. And it’s probably best that you know I’m not coming back.”
He frowned, taking off his bifocals. “And why is that?”
I swallowed, quelling my nausea. “Would this be confidential?”
“Of course.”
I lowered my voice. “I’m pregnant, but there are reasons I can’t come back here. I’ll be finishing school at home.”
His thick, gray eyebrows lifted. “I see. But I will need parental confirmation of this. You can’t just leave.”
“Fine. I’m sure one of them will be here on Monday to sign me out, or whatever they have to do. Thanks, Mr. Greene.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I went to my locker for my things and left Ocean View for the last time.
* * *
I POUNDED ON THE DOOR of Elijah’s bookstore after a few knocks. “Where are you?” I groaned in agony, cupping my hands over the window so I could peer inside. I hadn’t seen his car in its usual spot, and he hadn’t answered my calls. I broke down right then and there for the millionth time, it seemed.
“May?”
I turned around and saw him standing behind me with a bag of groceries. “I left school. For good, I mean,” I stammered. “And you didn’t answer your phone, and I was scared you hated me too.”
He put the key in the lock while I rambled, hurriedly letting us inside. I almost wondered if he was ignoring me until he sat the bag down and pulled me into his arms. “Shhh . . .” he soothed. “How could I ever hate you?”
I gripped the back of his sweater in my hands, wishing I could disappear into him and never have to feel any of this again. Maybe if we were one person, our pain would have been easier to bear. But of course that was impossible. I was hysterical, sobbing so hard my knees threatened to give out.
He inhaled a deep breath and sang softly by my ear. I don’t remember the words he sang, but I remember how quickly the sound of his voice calmed my weeping. He took my hand after a while and led me upstairs. I thought he was taking me to his piano, but he took me to his bedroom instead.
And the strange thing was, when he held up the covers for us to climb under them, I had not even a passing thought of being in Tyler’s bed. I lay on his chest and he kept singing. Then he hummed until the last of my tears fell onto his shirt. He stroked my hair over and over. I was sure he didn’t know this, but the strokes matched his breathing.
And even after I went home, I held onto that moment in my memory until morning dawned the next day.
* * *
MOM, DANIKA, AND I SAT in the waiting room at the clinic. I nervously tapped each of my fingertips against my legs while I waited for my name to be called. I wished one of them would say something, but I think they were just as nervous as me. Or maybe they just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what to say.
“You alright, sweetheart?” a woman to my left asked. She had brown hair and tired brown eyes.
I smiled as politely as I could. “I think so.”
She nodded. “I found out I was pregnant last week,” she said. “My husband and I tried for over ten years to have a baby.”
“Then . . . why are you here?” I asked, confused. I wondered if she had an affair.
“I have cancer. If I don’t have the chemo, I’ll definitely be too sick for it to work by the time the baby is here. But if I do have the chemo, I could live. And then maybe later, I could try again.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I felt terrible for judging her.
“Me too,” she said, taking off her, gauzy, red scarf and putting it in the chair next to her. Sweat was beading on her forehead. “I wanted to try and have it, but then I found out he was cheating on me. He’s gone now. It’s just me and this baby I can’t have.” Her eyes welled up with tears as she touched her ab
domen longingly. “But maybe someday, you know?” she said, smiling weakly at me.
“Yeah. Someday you will,” I promised, hoping it would help her feel better at least.
She smiled thinly. “It’s crazy how life works. You think you know what to do one moment, and the next you feel like there’s no right answer.” She patted my hand compassionately. “You look so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. It’s never too late to embrace it.”
I don’t know why, but I felt safe to be a little open with her. “I wish I felt like that were true,” I said softly, looking at her.
She fanned herself with a few abortion pamphlets. “You’ll see. One day, it’ll all make sense. It’ll be crystal clear. I don’t know your circumstance, but if there’s any advice I can offer you, it’s that I hope you’ll remember this situation doesn’t have to break you apart. You can choose to heal from it.”
I knew she was only talking about my abortion, but somehow she was speaking to the rest of my heartache as well. “I had my whole future planned out. Now I just don’t know.” I glanced at my mother and found her and Danika talking quietly. I turned my attention back to the woman. “What are you going to do after this?”
“Well, I’ll start my first aggressive round of chemotherapy. But the thing that really sucks about all of this is that chemotherapy can cause infertility. But, I supposed I can always adopt . . . if I live through this.”
Tears stung my eyes. I hurt for her. “You will,” I said firmly. “You’ll live through it and you’ll have the baby you’ve always wanted.”
She looked at me for a long moment, a slow smile coming to her face. “I really hope you’re right, sweetheart.” She had a slight southern drawl. I could have imagined being friends with her in another time and place. I wondered what other wisdom she had to offer. “Thank you for that. And someday you’ll have the baby you want, when the right time comes,” she assured me.
“May O’Hara.”
I looked at my mother and Danika. Mom tucked my hair behind my ear. “Do you want me to come in there with you?” she asked.
I shook my head. I needed to do this alone. “I’ll be okay.”
Her eyes watered. “Alright, baby.”
She hadn’t called me that since I was little. It was alarming. Was she worried something bad would happen?
I smiled at the woman I just met. She took my hand and squeezed it between both of hers, nodding encouragingly. I then turned my attention to the nurse waiting at the door and numbly got to my feet. She led the way down the hall to a door on the left, where she let me enter first. I stared at the table where the procedure would be performed.
“Have a seat for me,” she said, taking a couple devices from a drawer. I sat on the table, hearing the paper crinkle under me. “It’s okay to be nervous. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
“No.” I shook my head and stared down at my hands.
“Alright. I just need you to sign this waver saying that any of your questions have been answered and you are still opting for a surgical abortion.”
She handed me the clipboard and I scribbled my signature without even reading it. She took it from me and took my blood pressure and my temperature, scribbling things onto the next page on her clipboard. She then pricked my finger and took a sample of my blood.
All of it was happening so fast. I wanted to tell her to slow down; that I needed to get through this at my own pace. She was young; she didn’t look much older than me. I wondered why she would choose to work in such a place as this. She weighed me, charted the number, then went through a few bottles of pills, dropping one of each in a little plastic cup. She filled a paper cup with water and handed both things to me. “These will help you relax. Go ahead and take them, and change into this gown here. I will be back with the doctor shortly.”
I took the pills after she left. My hands shook as I threw the cup away and changed into the cotton gown, and then I sat on the table again to wait. Someone was crying next door. I waited and waited, pulse thrumming and hands shaking, until all at once, I felt my body grow heavy.
My nerves were deadening. I felt relaxed and calm, even though I knew I shouldn’t have. I rested my elbows on my knees and continued to wait, hearing my own breath come in and out; in and out.
I was almost dozing when the door opened. “Hello, May,” the doctor said flatly. He looked bored. Disinterested. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” I answered. My voice sounded far away. I was nervous again, though I had no desire to move. “Would it be possible for a woman to see me?”
“I’m sorry, but no. Our other doctor is on maternity leave.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He sat on a stool and wheeled himself to my side. “Has anything changed since you filled out your information earlier this week?”
“No. It’s all the same.”
“Good. Would you like me to go over the procedure again with you?”
I shook my head. “I remember. Just . . . can you talk to me while you do it? So I know what’s happening?”
“Sure. Go ahead and lie back for me, and put your feet in the stirrups.” He draped a paper sheet over my legs. “We’re going to begin with an ultrasound.”
I did as I was told. My face burned when I positioned myself, and I fixed my eyes on the water-stained ceiling tiles as I braced for whatever was about to happen. I was freezing cold and sweating at the same time. I could just feel him looking at me, scrutinizing my most private area with clinical eyes.
The nurse picked up a probe of some kind and covered it with a clear, plastic barrier. She then squirted some gel onto it and handed it to the doctor. I clutched the sides of the table nervously. “Is this internal? I mean, are you going to . . . ?”
“Yes. When you’re this early, it’s best to get an internal view. Take a deep breath for me.”
I inhaled and felt him push the probe into me. I winced, trying my best not to tense up. Deep pressure radiated in my lower abdomen. I screwed my eyes shut.
“Do you want to see the screen?”
“No,” I said quickly, trying to breathe.
“Looks like you’re about five weeks along, just as expected. I’m removing the probe now.”
I exhaled, resting my clammy palm on my forehead.
“You’re going to have to relax your legs a bit, May. I’m going to insert the speculum now. It’ll be cold, but it will only be uncomfortable for a moment.”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see my head. I flinched when I felt the object he had forewarned me about, but immediately I felt lied to. It was painful. It was even more painful when it expanded, clicking several times. I whimpered into the crook of my arm and a tear slipped down my temple. The pressure was constant and I couldn’t adjust to it.
“Good. Now I’m going to clean your vagina and cervix. Just take some deep breaths; I’ll be gentle.”
He kept talking but I barely heard him, my hearing fading in and out as I fought a sudden wave of nausea. “I’m going to throw up,” I gasped, twisting to my side and sitting up at the same time. The nurse placed a pan under my chin, but nothing happened. I slowly lay back down and apologized, resisting the need to sob.
“I’m going to use a local anesthetic to numb your cervix now. You will feel some initial pinching, but after that you won’t feel much of anything. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I choked. Hurry. Just hurry up. Please!
A sharp pain radiated through my abdomen and I groaned, sealing my hands over my face. I felt the nurse urging my legs apart, but it was almost impossible to let her spread them. “Wait. Wait! I need a minute!” I cried, wracked with sobs. The doctor stopped what he was doing and they both looked at me around the veil of my legs.
“It’s not too late to turn back,” he informed me. “You still have that option. The next step is dilating you, and after that I will have to finish the procedure.”
Now
MY DAUGHTER LOVES to watch old vide
os of Addison dancing. We sit on the floor together, mesmerized by her youthful form as she floats across the stage on the TV. “Dah!” my girl squeals excitedly.
“Yeah, dancing,” I answer, grinning. I stroke her soft curls. Addison leaps through the air and lands into a graceful tumble, coming back to her feet as though the whole move is effortless. Before I was raped, I went to every one of her recitals. I wonder where she would be today if she had been able to keep dancing.
“Maybe we should put her in dance lessons when she’s old enough,” Elijah says, joining us on the floor “She seems to really like it.”
“Maybe,” I agree, smiling at him. He has been writing music all morning and he looks tired, but energized at the same time. I lean toward him and kiss his lips. When we part, our daughter is watching us with a dimpled grin on her face.
Then
“YOU SURE THIS is what you want, sweetie?” the nurse asked, stroking my hairline on my forehead.
I nodded, forcing myself to breathe. “Yes. I’m sure. I’m just really scared.”
“I know,” she soothed. The doctor watched me as if he were waiting for the commercials of his favorite TV show to end. She gave him the go-ahead with a nod and he rolled back out of my view.
“Last injection,” he said. I didn’t feel this one. I heard metal objects shifting around, and then felt a slight throbbing deep inside me. “I’m dilating you. This will take a few minutes; just try to relax.”
I imagined Addison dancing. I closed my eyes and remembered her recitals. I had gone to almost every single one. I didn’t think about how she had abandoned me because of my decision. I just thought about the grace with which she had always moved and the way it had always made me feel like I was dreaming.
A switch was flipped and I heard the sound of quiet humming. “I’ll begin the suction now, May,” he told me.
A moment later, I heard the evidence of Tyler’s offspring being pulled from my body. Sharp cramps tore through me and I writhed. The nurse did her best to hold me down.