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“Are you okay?” Meka asked. “If you change your mind, no one will judge you. And you know I won’t judge either way.”
“I know you won’t. Thank you,” she said once she finally gained enough composure to speak.
With nothing more to say, she grabbed her bag, and they headed out the door. When the cold wind blasted her, she briefly reconsidered the decision to rely on public transportation. But the cold was good for her. By the time they reached the subway station, a numbness had taken over and she was moving on autopilot. Numb was good. Autopilot was what she needed and she remained there until she took her seat in the waiting room.
“Mrs. Tate?” the woman called from behind the desk.
Samantha snapped out of her trance and made her way to the desk. She was handed a clipboard and pen before the woman returned her attention to other things. She took the clipboard back to her seat before looking the papers over. Meka periodically rubbed her back to soothe her, not that it helped. Once she finished robotically filling out the forms, she left the clipboard on the desk before returning to her seat.
Once again, she was aware of Meka doing her best to soothe her. She waited with her mind as empty as she could get it and before long, her name was called again. An older woman with her hair pulled up in a bun smiled warmly at her as she stood and made the long walk to greet her.
“Right this way,” she said before turning to lead the way down the long corridor. “You’ll need to remove your clothing and put on a gown. The doctor will do a quick ultrasound before beginning the procedure. If you’d like, your friend can come back while you’re recovering, although you’re typically free to go within an hour after the procedure.”
She finished her explanation right as they reached the procedure room. Samantha looked around the cold white room and frowned at the yellow gown. It was drab, which seemed appropriate.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to get changed, then I’ll be with you to speak with you before we get started.”
Samantha nodded as she continued to stare at the ugly yellow gown. She flinched at the sound of the door closing behind her but didn’t turn around. Taking slow steps, she walked to the exam table and picked up the dull yellow fabric, holding it to her chest. This is the right thing to do. She repeated the phrase to herself several times as she prepared to put on the gown.
She’d removed herself from Bryce’s presence to make sure she was making the decision of her own volition, and even chose to have a clinical abortion without a paternity test. She knew in her heart the baby belonged to her late husband, and was certain of the horrible circumstances surrounding conception. The ultrasound wasn’t likely to be wrong. She was further along than she thought, and the ultrasound they were about to do would confirm it. But either way, she wasn’t prepared to have a baby. Even if it did belong to the man she was certain she was meant to be with.
Smoothing the gown over her legs, she climbed onto the examination table and waited. It wasn’t long before there was a quick knock at the door followed by it swinging open.
“Mrs. Tate? I’m Doctor Cortez. I’ll just do a quick ultrasound to confirm the dates before we begin. In the meantime, do you have any questions?”
The nurse with the warm smile was back, and stood at the other side of the table, placing a comforting hand on Samantha’s shoulder. She was certain she would have really liked the woman had the circumstances been better.
She shook her head as the doctor squirted warm blue gel on her abdomen and began sliding the wand back and forth. She craned her neck to look at the screen that was likely tilted away from her on purpose. The image on the screen looked more like a baby than the one she’d seen at her ultrasound appointment and her heart constricted in her chest. There was the baby she had hoped and prayed for.
There he was when she wasn’t able to take care of him. Could she take care of him? Probably. But she didn’t want her baby to grow up with a damaged, broken mother. Even if that mother was filled with more love than she could keep to herself.
She was only aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks when the nurse handed her a tissue. She nodded her thanks as she took it and tried to dry her face faster than the tears could wet them. It was no use.
“Looks like you’re right at twelve weeks, like your paperwork said. That’s good, because the procedure will be quick and so will the recovery,” the doctor explained.
Twelve weeks. That was the second ultrasound to say she’d been pregnant longer than she’d known Bryce. The baby belonged to Brandon. Was that why she was determined to end the pregnancy? To get back at him? She took in a harsh breath as the thought struck her.
Closing her eyes, all she saw were flashes from their happy times together. He hadn’t always been a shitty husband. She now knew what a terrible hand he’d been dealt as a child, and how their mom couldn’t always care for them the way a mother should. It didn’t excuse his behavior, but it certainly explained it. No matter how broken she was, there was no doubt she would try harder to be a good mother. And if she couldn’t, she knew Bryce would be there to help and to make sure she received all the care and resources that were available, even if he was only there as her friend.
With another shaky breath, she stretched her arm out, her palm facing the doctor, causing him to stop what he was doing as he put away the ultrasound equipment.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“I can’t do this,” she rasped. “I have doubts, and I shouldn’t do this if I have even one. I’m so sorry.”
The doctor freed up his hands to cover hers. His touch was warm, his hands surprisingly gentle. “You do not need to apologize because you are absolutely correct. If you don’t think this is the right option for you, you are making the right decision. If you change your mind, you can always reschedule. You have time.”
Those old familiar tears streamed down her face once more. Time. She had time. Time to be the mother she’d hoped to have the chance to be. Time to work on herself so that she could be that mother. Time.
Getting dressed was a blur. As she struggled to see through the tears that continued to flow, she threw her clothes on, not caring if she looked like a disheveled mess. She had to get out of that room immediately. Every second she spent in there felt like a betrayal. To whom, she wasn’t sure.
After what felt like a mile-long walk, she finally made it to the door leading to the waiting room. She hesitated, taking one last look inside herself, wondering if she’d made the right decision before she finally shoved the doors open. Doing her best not to draw attention to herself, she blindly walked in the direction of where she last saw her friend.
“Sam? Are you okay?”
“Let’s go.”
Meka stared at her in bewilderment for a moment before springing into action. Standing, she wrapped an arm around Samantha and urged her toward the door. Samantha was grateful because she probably couldn’t have found the exit on her own. She turned back into a sobbing mess the moment they stepped into the hallway.
