We sat on opposite ends of the phone. Me, outside my parents’ house in the summer heat, tears running down my cheeks. Chris, pacing the New Jersey streets trying to outrun the words “I'm pregnant” that were still ringing in his ears from last night. The line wasn’t dead but something between us was the moment our beliefs went crashing into the other. Him, less of a Christian than me, mellow toned, too relaxed. This wasn’t his first rodeo. “So what do you want to do Toy?” he said for the fourth time. I could tell he was getting impatient about this. We knew there was a huge possibility of me getting pregnant after we got back together for the third time; by the time we cut out using condoms altogether. I don’t know why he’s even asking me this. I told him the first time we had ‘the talk’ three years ago. I stand behind prochoice. I think all women should have the right to choice what they do with their bodies but personally, it’s just not for me. Abortion is a sin, killing is killing whether you can see the person or not. The church along with my southern parents drilled a lot of things into my head as a child, abortion being one that has always stuck with me. But of course he doesn’t get that. He doesn’t care. He’s been in this situation before, his resume is a mile long and he’s trained in talking, sorry, “helping” pregnant girls deal with abortions; his abortions.

“Tori..?”

“What do you want me to say Chris? I told you how I felt about this when we meant. My beliefs haven’t changed.”

“Do you really think we can raise a child? Where would we live? How would we afford it? I can barely pay to get back and forth home and do you really think we’re ready for this? Just think about that. We would be bringing a child into the world without a place or foot to stand on.”

He made valid points I must admit but …

“God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” I whispered.

“We will love the baby and that’s what he/she would really need. We can figure it all out.”

​

His next words cut me deeper than a knife. “Damnit Tori! It’s not a baby. It’s not even halfway developed, get that shit out your head.” This was the beginning of the end for us. We could both feel it but didn’t want to admit it. The conversation ended shortly after that and they got shorter and shorter every time he called. There is a life in me, my little tiny It, and the moment Chris brought up abortions I knew I wanted to keep It.

Chris’s parents had him when they were young, like still in high school young. What if they had an abortion then, well I wouldn’t be going through this right now for one but he wouldn’t be here. Why doesn’t he see that? One decision like that can change everything and he wants me to just decide to end a life overnight. Its either I lose him or the baby… I can already see the ultimatum. It’s been three days and seven hours since we talked about baby it, two days since we talked about anything really. He just texts me every few hours to “checks on me”. After the fifth day I couldn’t take the silence anymore. So I did what any rational pregnant women would, I called him crying. Not just any crying though, full on hyperventilating, can’t breathe, my world is ending sobers. That got his attention.

“Tor what’s wrong? Are you ok? Talk to me! What happened? ” he said as soon as he answered and heard my muffed sobers.

“I can’t live like this anymore Chris” I choked our between sobers. “I’m losing you when I need you the most.” After a long sigh he began. “Tor I spoke to my dad about it.” Chris and his dad are not close at all. Papa Chris left his mom when Chris turned two, they kept in contact but after two step dads and papa Chris’s three other kids, their relationship never progressed.

“He doesn’t think we should keep it. He told me what it was like finding out mom was pregnant with me and how he ended up resenting her. I love you T, so much, I just don’t think we should do this. We’re not ready” he decided. My hands fell unconsciously to baby it and before I could stop myself I blurted out the one thing I’ve been thinking since the A word joined the conversation many weeks ago. “I’m its mom! You don’t know what’s it’s like having something growing inside of you, Feeling that connection. My job is to protect it and I didn’t think it would have to be from you. I’m all it has, he’s depending on me from now and I can’t just pretend it’s not happening. It’s here and growing and its changing me Chris. How can I just turn my back on it! What kind of person would that make me!” I sobered. “You’re not superwomen tori, stop acting like it. You asked me how I felt and that’s it. I don’t want it. I know it’s your body but it’s my life too. But it’s your body right? It’s your choice, you’re gonna do whatever you want anyway. I don’t even know why you asked me... I don’t have a real say in this” he said. I wanted to scream. It’s supposed to be OUR choice and he’s making that so freaking hard. I don’t want to pull an ‘it’s my body, my choice’ he would hate me for that. I would hate myself either way.

“Listen tori, we’re not ready. I want to marry you one day and have kids the right way. This isn’t it baby; this isn’t how it should be. Give us a chance to do this right. Please.”

“Ok” was the only thing I could say. It was either I kept the baby and lost him and go through this alone, or lose the baby along with my morals, and he’d stay. He had to stay. “Ok?” he asked surprised. He won and he knew it. “You won’t regret this baby, I swear. We will have our family one day, just not now. And you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll call Planned Parenthood tomorrow and make an appointment. Would you rather do it this weekend or do you want to do it right away?” he continued to talk about plans and working around our schedules for ‘the procedure’. That’s what he called it! ‘The procedure’! Like I was going in to get my damn teeth cleaned. ‘We decided’ that the procedure would be done as soon as possible because I had to be at least five or six weeks at this point and nine weeks was my cut off. The date was set for Sunday July 27th, the day after tomorrow, which conveniently is a week from Chris’s birthday.  

 

Chris couldn’t make it to the appointment. ‘Something important came up’. So I was in this alone. Planned Parenthood was a huge brick building on the corner. The security guards were cold and unfriendly; there was a separate waiting room for your support system and too many doors. After charts and charts of paperwork and blood test I sat in the official waiting room. My appointment was two hours ago and still no doctor in sight. I knew I should’ve picked a different place, Chris can’t do anything right. Thank god my mommas not here, she would’ve went bat shit crazy waiting this long. And there are children here! Shouldn’t that be against some kinda rule? And look at these nurses or whatever they are behind the desk, doing absolutely nothing. I wonder how much they get paid to just sit on their asses and watch people wait. Shaking my head, “momma would’ve loved this, ‘I told you to stay away from those boys Latoya’.” I whispered mocking momma’s southern voice that played in my head whenever I made a decision she wouldn’t agree with. “Are you okay dear?” the lady next to me asked. She was much older than me, maybe mid-thirties. She wore sweatpants and her hair in a big bun at the top of her head. Her eyes looked tired and red from crying I assumed. She was obviously pregnant. I could see her belly button popping out of her shirt and her stomach looked hard and bloated. “I’m ok, thanks.” I said quietly. “First time?” she said turning her attention to me fully. “Yea” I managed to get out. I shouldn’t be doing this. “It’s not that bad, they’ll put you to sleep, and you won’t feel a thing” she smiled at me offering comfort I guess. Lucky it wasn’t the first time for the lady next to her either. They began swapping stories. Lady number two just got a job and new boyfriend. She had drunken sex after the bar one night and couldn’t have ‘one of those babies’. This would be her third ‘procedure’. Bun lady has two boys that are home with her boyfriend and she just got fired from her retail job, she couldn’t image having another kid now. Like lady number two, having an abortion was something she wanted to do. Listening to them I wondered if everyone was here for the same reason. There’s a girl in the corner crying, she can’t be older than seventeen. And for heaven sakes can someone shut the baby up. He’s been crying on his mother’s knee for the last twenty minutes. I can’t even find a window and it's getting so hot in here. What, they think someone’s gonna jump or something… maybe I should just go get some air and come back.

“Johnson, Katori Johnson” the nurse with the clipboard announce. She wore a warm smile but it didn’t raise her eyes.

“Katori?” she asked when I stood. “Sorry for the wait honey, I hope you weren’t out here too long.”