And Then He Fell

Chapter 33 - Ellie

I sat still, too stunned to cry. Did my dad know about this? What was wrong with her?

Walking into the house a few minutes later, I felt like a zombie. I walked slowly up to my room, clutching the awful pamphlet in my hand. I was going to do some research of my own. Sitting down at my desk, my laptop lit up as I opened the cover. Typing in my password, then clicking on my favorite web browser, I typed in "abortion."

The first site I saw was one called Abortion Info For Teens. When I clicked on it, it had many options to choose from. I chose the option titled "Abortion," and more options came up. It included testimonials by doctors who used to perform abortions, but were now against such procedures. It also included stories about girls who aborted their babies, including a girl from a popular reality show, and how they have had regrets about their decisions. Abortion survivors even presented their stories on a part of the page.

Each of these things helped to back up my decision to keep my baby, but I read on. The next part that caught my attention was titled "Abortion Clinic Procedures." Going through these pictures made me sick. How was I going to do this to a baby? My baby. I didn't know that a baby was completely formed by the time it had been in the womb only ten weeks. It is so tiny, it could fit on its mom or dad's fingernail. It even has fingerprints. A bundle of cells, my ass. I had a baby inside me, and I wanted to keep him.

I figured I'd give the pro-choice websites a try, just to get both sides of the picture. As it turned out, the pro-choice websites were covered with facts involving how many women got abortions each year, and that they were safe for a woman's health. I wasn't every other woman in the world, and I wasn't even that worried about it affecting my health. I was worried about killing my baby. The way I saw it, even if there was a chance that I might be killing a baby, I didn't want to do it. How could I live with myself in the future? What about when I had other kids? What would I tell them about their half-brother or half-sister that I aborted? What would they think of me?

No, no, no, no, no. I couldn't do this. I read that dumb pamphlet again, which didn't help me at all. Once again, more facts about statistics concerning abortion. I wasn't the brightest person out there, but even I knew when someone was skirting around an issue. I decided to confront my mom. She was in the living room when I walked out of my bedroom and sat on the brown leather arm chair that was positioned perpendicular to the matching sofa.

"Mom?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, Honey?" she asked.

"I've been researching abortion, and I don't want one," I said.

She stared right at me, and said, "Do you want to live here?"

I started to talk, but my voice was unsteady, and I knew I'd be crying soon. "Yes, but.." I began.

"But nothing," she said. I'd never seen her this angry. "I know you think I'm being heartless now, but you'll thank me someday," she said.

Tears were pouring from my eyes now, and I had to stifle a sob before I spoke. "Mom, I don't think I will. I've read testimonials from girls who have had abortions, and most of them are really sad," I said.

"Honey, that's just propaganda to convince you to have the baby. Those girls probably didn't even have abortions," she said. "Besides, I made an appointment for you on Monday."

"But I have school on Monday," I said.

"I'll write you an excuse. It'll be fine," she said. "You're doing this."

Yeah, I thought, real fine.

******** That Monday ********

On Monday, I woke up, getting out of bed slowly and walking into the bathroom I shared with Emily. I really wished that Em was awake. She would know exactly what to do in my situation. I stared into the mirror, lifting my pajama shirt and turning so that I could see my profile in the mirror. From what I could tell, my belly stuck out slightly further than it usually did. I didn't look pregnant by any means, but I could tell that my baby was in there. If only Mom would let me keep you, I thought, rubbing my belly affectionately.