I didn’t want to write about this subject. It occurred during my first marriage, one of the darkest periods of my life. However, a trip to the ER this week served as an abrupt reminder of the fragility of life. There is no guaranty of tomorrow or even the next hour. (Not to worry, I’m okay). I believe the purpose of my life is to share wisdom and, perhaps, inspiration with the next generation. Unfortunately, I gained much of my wisdom through choices I deeply regret. I cannot procrastinate in telling this story simply because the subject matter is difficult.
“You’re pregnant,” the doctor confirmed. My period was only two weeks late, but the morning sickness had already begun.
My mind in turmoil, I walked back to work on shaking legs. What am I going to do? I began to tremble, nausea overwhelmed me, and the world went black.
“Miss, are you alright?” I woke to a stranger kneeling over me. He helped me to my feet.
"I’m fine. I didn’t eat breakfast and haven’t had time for lunch,” I said. “I just got a little lightheaded.” It was all true, just not the whole truth.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine,” I smiled weakly. “I’ll eat something when I get back to work.”
Still concerned, my Good Samaritan insisted on walking me to my office. I thanked him and assured him I’d be fine. With only ten minutes left in my lunch hour, I grabbed a few saltine crackers and put a cup of soup in the microwave. Still weak I sat down to nibble on crackers and wait for my soup to warm.
How am I going to tell my husband I’m pregnant again?
I always wanted a family. While dating, we discussed starting our family after we had been married for two years. Once we were married, he decided he didn’t want to bring another life into this world. After six years of hoping he would reconsider his decision, I packed my bag to leave. We no longer had common beliefs, interests, or goals. The shock of my decision, as well as his father’s impending death to lung cancer, triggered his reluctant agreement to have a child. I stayed, and within two months, I was pregnant.
I broke the news of my first pregnancy by having his assistant leave a message for him. “The rabbit died,” it said. I didn’t think he would take the news well, and I couldn’t handle his anger. Breaking it to him in this way gave him time to adjust to the idea before I had to face him. I calculated correctly. While not excited about the pregnancy, he wasn’t angry with me.
But, when he held Baby in his arms, everything changed. He adored her. He focused on her, a charming distraction from his graduate studies. He found little time for me. Yet here I was, only six months later, pregnant again.
The work day dragged on in spite of pressure of filing deadlines. As I boarded the bus for home, my mind continued to work at the knot of my situation.
“Hey, girl, what has you so deep in thought?” I looked up as my best friend settled in beside me.
“Janie, I’m pregnant,” I said as tears welling in my eyes.
“Oh, no! When did you find out?”
“Just today; I haven’t even told my husband yet. I don’t know if he wants another child, but I’m certain he won’t want one so soon.”
“Well, hasn’t Baby been good for your marriage?” she asked handing me a tissue.
“No. When he is home, it’s all about her. If it’s done anything, it has amplified our differences. He has made it abundantly clear that I’m not smart, funny. or thin enough, but I always thought I would be a good mother. He says I can’t even change a diaper right,” I said wiping away the tears. “You know how you dream of being pampered and cherished when you are carrying someone’s child? Well, it’s just a fairy tale. He not only didn’t pamper or cherish me; he acted like he needed to toughen me up. I was five months pregnant, in a dress and heels, when he forced me to run across the Texas State Fairgrounds. Was it an emergency? No, he didn’t want to be late for kickoff of the OU/Texas game! He left me in the middle of my horrendous 42-hour labor to play tennis because he needed a break. HE needed a break!” My voice rose to hysterical heights.
“I don’t know how I can do it physically. Between the long hours as a legal assistant, and being up with the baby at night, I’m exhausted all the time. He takes care of her between classes, but he leaves as soon as I get home to play whatever sport strikes his fancy. He doesn’t help me. He corrects me. His help is to show me the “right” way to do things. He’s not going to help me with two children,” I said, as the tears turned to sobs.
She gently took my hand and said, “You don’t have to have this baby. You do have a choice. It isn’t even a baby yet, just a bundle of cells.”
“Really?” I raised my head. “It’s just a bundle of cells?”
“I have terminated two pregnancies. You are in charge of your own body. You don’t have to have another baby right now. You are only 26. There is plenty of time to have more children,” she said with a reassuring pat on my hand.
“You’ve had two abortions?” I sat up and blew my nose.
“Yes, one in high school, for obvious reasons, and one last year. We can’t afford a baby until Bill finishes his master’s program,” she said.
“Huh, I never thought of that as an option. I thought about adoption, but I couldn’t carry this baby to term and give it up. Plus, I’m a married woman, what would people think?” I shook my head at the thought.
“I’ll give you the name of my doctor. He does the procedure in the office. They put you to sleep and when you wake up it’s all over. It costs $300 cash,” she counseled.
My husband took the news as I expected. He did not want another child. No, we couldn’t afford for me to stay home with two babies while he finished his PhD. No, we couldn’t afford childcare for two children either. No, he didn’t want to get a job other than his teaching assistantship, because it wouldn’t leave him with any free time for sports. He offered no alternative to an abortion, but he wouldn’t force me to have one either. He left that decision and responsibility to me. As I suspected, I was on my own.
As women do, I talked to two of my closest friends about my dilemma. To my surprise they had already had abortions. I felt desperate and alone.
Once the decision was made, I didn’t waste any time making the appointment. Dwelling on my decision did not make it any easier. I just wanted to rip off the bandage. I scheduled the abortion for Friday morning of the same week. My husband dropped me off. After the procedure he picked me up and took me home. He propped me up on the couch. Despite the doctor’s instruction to rest and not pick up anything heavier than ten pounds, he plopped Baby on the floor beside me. He went outside to visit with our neighbors and mow the yard. I felt abandoned and alone. We never talked about the abortion again.
The ordeal left me bitter and angry. It signaled the end of my marriage. Within six week, I initiated an affair with a married man. I left my husband 14 months later.
So, am I pro-life or pro-choice? Why can’t I be both? I will leave the when-a-fetus-becomes-a-baby-debate to someone much smarter than I. I do not know if a soul is implanted at conception or when brain development makes emotion and cognition possible. Scientists believe that does not occur until the late second trimester or early third trimester. On the other hand, I do not believe the government has a right to legislate my choice to terminate a pregnancy any more than it has a right to limit the number of children I bear. What I do know are the emotional consequences of an abortion.
I believe in a God of Mercy, and I believe I am forgiven, but that “bundle of cells” has haunted me for 32 years. I wonder many things. Had I stayed in the marriage, would we have been forced to make it work? Would weekend visitations and shared custody have been easier on Baby if she’d had a sibling? When I hear a friend struggle with infertility, I think of the life I threw away. I grieve for lost potential. Books like
Heaven Is For Real make me cry. Is my child waiting for me in heaven with questions about my lack of love?
I don’t know the answers to any of those questions. If you are trying to decide whether or not to terminate a pregnancy, please get counseling outside your circle of friends. If you have never had to make that difficult decision, please be merciful in your opinions of those who have.
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