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So I couldn�t sleep last night. The Boyfriend went to bed around 9:30. I stayed up and wrapped a few gifts (10 down, 30 to go), typed a quick entry, then went in and pushed him over to his own side, but sleep was still far away. I kept thinking about the other Jennifer.. My email to her yesterday went unanswered. She hasn�t posted anything else. The sad likelihood is that I�ll never know what happened to her. If she really took all those pills. If someone got to her in time. If she�ll ever be okay.
Anyway�
I don�t think I�ve ever really gotten over the feeling I had after the abortion, curled up in the Artboy�s bed. A day hasn�t passed in the four and a half years since then that I haven�t thought about the choice I made. Don�t misunderstand me�given the options we had and the consequences they each presented, I still think it was the right choice to make. But that doesn�t make me any less sad that it had to be the right choice. There�s nothing I�d have been happier about than to have been happy I was pregnant. Timing is everything.
I�ll still never feel good about it. That woman was right�I�ll always be a mother. But I accept the consequences of the decisions I made. I�ve been in and out of therapy several times since then. The worst time is in mid-February, right around the time the baby would have been born. Apparently, that�s common. And it will never go away.
The Boyfriend and I had been dating for about two months when I told him this story. I wasn�t sure what his reaction would be. Luckily for me, he just hugged me and said, "I�m sorry you had to go through that." He�ll never understand it, though. The experience is something that linked me to the Artboy forever, in a way that no one else will ever touch. I wasn�t the only parent involved there.
The summer after I met the Boyfriend, in the midst of the Artboy�s trying to woo me back, we all went out for Steve�s birthday. The Boyfriend was away for the weekend�the Artboy came along. After dinner, we went out to the Scituate light. I hadn�t been back there since the day I found out I was pregnant. The Artboy was thinking it as well. We sat together on the rocks and he held my hand and we both cried.
Sometimes, the history overwhelms me.
How does someone go from being so much of your life to being someone you used to know?
Since the actual pregnancy, I�ve convinced myself several times that I was pregnant again. It�s all been in my head. But if I were, if whatever combination of forces brought together the same conclusion, I don�t think I could do it again. I�m not even sure if I could go back and make the same choices, faced with the knowledge I have now, even if the results would have been disastrous.
I think it�s a selfish decision, making the choice to not have a child like that. But sometimes, people need to be selfish. That�s what being a parent is about�putting someone else�s well being in front of your own. And if you aren�t prepared to do that, well, then�you aren�t ready to be a parent. And if you aren�t ready, then please, don�t do it.
I still wonder, though. In a parallel universe, the Artboy and I had the baby. Maybe we�re living happily ever after there. Maybe not. I can always hope.
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