Whoa Baby

Chapter 53- The Devoncourts

"I was a cheerleader. I went to parties with my friends instead of going over to their house to study. I drank, but never to the point where I was hung over every weekend. I smoked once or twice, but I never did drugs. In the eyes of today you could say I was a typical high school teenager. My grades were always good though, I never got into trouble with the school, and my mother never caught me.

"And what I'm going to tell you next is something I haven't told to many people at all. You are just one of the handful. I tell this part of the story to you because you did something I never did. Your father wasn't the first guy I ever had sex with. Now I didn't go around doing it with anyone. I was in a committed relationship, I had deep feelings for the guy, and it was months into the relationship when I decided to take the next step." Oh God, please don't tell me where this is going.

"James and I were always very, very careful. I don't know what went wrong but I got pregnant-"

"Please for heaven's sake tell me I'm not related to JC in any form of way!" I shout, desperately to her, with wide eyes and a sick feeling. I mean it makes sense! The reason why they always wanted me away from JC! So we didn't grow feelings for each other and- BAM incest! Oh gross I think I'm going to puke, my poor baby-

"Relax Paisley! Don't be ridiculous of course not!" My mother chastises, looking slightly angry at me. Hearing the confirmation, my body relaxed and the panic disappeared. Thank God. "Dear God," she mumbles shaking her head, "What I was going to say is that I got pregnant, and before you think about it next, no, Jim is not your father either." She already resolves. She takes a deep breath, pushing the loose strands of hair away from her face and looking down in her coffee mug. It didn't make sense, if JC isn't there kid, and I'm not Jim's kid, then where's the child that belonged to my mother and Jim? The story was so shocking, so unlike my mother who I pictured her as. "I was scared, scared of what my mother would say, what James would say or do, scared of what other people would think of me or what they'd say about me. So I told no one, and when I found out I went to the clinic."

My mother didn't look at me when she spoke the rest of the story. She looked down at the table, one hand holding her hot mug, steam still rising up, her other hand, trace over nothing on the table. She didn't have to tell me what she was doing at the clinic, I knew what she did. Something I thought she'd never consider, what I didn't even want to consider, she did. Shock couldn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. I was lost of words. All this time, I thought, not only was it the best choice to keep the baby, because a life is a life whether it's out in the world or not. I thought if it were my mom she'd make the same decision, because that's what she always taught me.

Like mom had told me, it was my choice to make- keeping the baby and having sex. I guess, having that abortion was hers. For her reasons only, whether she would ever tell me that was for her to make and no one else could tell her what to do or make it for her. Sure she could have been influenced, but I guess that's what she was trying to avoid, not telling anyone so she didn't have to hear that she should keep the baby, (that's what grandma would say) or whatever Jim would tell her. Because when my mom took that test or whatever she did, she had already made up her mind, and she didn't want anyone to change that.

Abortion isn't an easy decision to make. It's something that you can regret your whole life either way if you go through with it or not. There shouldn't be judgment, because you have your reasons to do it, but my position on it still stands. It every women's decision to make, and it should be respected either way, but no matter what choice you make it isn't an easy one, and there's no easy way out.

"I never told my mother. Never told Jim. Never told Carrie. Never told your father, my father, my best friends; no one. I've only told the story to people I trust that will keep it untold, and to those who went through what you did. Like Erica." Erica, the sixteen year old girl that got pregnant, the same girl grandma and I argued over on Easter lunch. For the choice she made the night I made the same choices Erica made. "I guess it makes me proud that girls like you and Erica, and even Carrie, all held their heads up high and went through it all and I didn't."