I'm So Sorry

Chapter Forty-Two

                 

Jessie

         My mom keeps a lot of baby pictures of me in the foyer.

            I thought it was silly for a long time, all of these pictures and memories. I haven't looked at them since I was maybe thirteen. But here I am, sitting on the floor in the dark, headphones in my ears as the flashlight from my phone shining down on them.

            I'm holding Mom's favorite right now in my hand. My face is covered in cake at my first birthday, blue and white icing all over my face and a smile very evident under all the colors. Next to me is Mom, pointing at the camera while I stare at her and she is laughing at me. The bond we've shared these last eighteen years. The times I've gone to her, and the times I've looked up to her. All the memories we've accumulated, all the laughs we've shared and girl dates we went on together. When I fell on the playground as a child I ran to her. When I needed a dress for the sixth grade dance she dropped everything and we ran to the mall across town. When I needed braces she gave up popcorn for two years so I wouldn't have to suffer alone. When I had my first kiss I went home and told her about it first. When I thought I was going to go to prom alone she told me to march up to a guy and ask him myself.

            When I was attacked, she did everything in her power to make sure I was okay.

            My mother has been a saint and has been there for me all the time. For years I didn't even need to ask for her help, she'd just know. We have a relationship that I know most girls would dream of having with their mothers.

            As I look down at this photograph of us from my first birthday I can't help but feel pain in my stomach.

            I could have this with my kid, the one growing inside of me right now. I could love him/her, I could care for them every day of my life.

            How can I though, knowing where they came from? Can I love something that I didn't even consent to have? Do I want my first time to result in a child I have to raise for the rest of my life? I don't want to make this choice. I don't want to take the life of a being, and I don't want to have it myself. I don't want to allow it to grow for nine months, remembering his evil voice and his touch on and inside of me.

            I shudder.

            I readjust the headphones in my ears as the next song comes on.

            It's ten-thirty now and I realize that I forgot to text everyone that I made it back to my house. I immediately unlock my phone and type it into the group chat.

Jessie

Got home 5 minutes ago, safe and sound. Hope everyone else is all right.

            I then turn off the notifications in the group chat and turn the music up just a little bit.

            I have to make a choice. This baby is going to define my life whether or not I have it. Whether or not I keep it. It's going to mean something when I want to have a serious relationship, or if I try to get pregnant again in my life, or if I have it and give it away. There are a million downsides for both choices. What are the upsides?

            Not having a baby in my freshman year of college, or having a child that will forever be mine.

            Are those pros enough to outweigh the cons?

            I don't actually know.

            I skip the next song on my playlist and hear the familiarity of the intro to the next song. I shudder again as I feel tears in my eyes and I look at the baby picture again.