Three Choices
Cindy Butler was a nineteen-year old college freshman, with a promising life ahead of her. There was hope of medical school and then a successful career to follow. Michael Evans, her latest boyfriend, didn't even know that he'd planted a seed. And why would he? Michael wouldn't allow irresponsibility when it came to sex. They used a condom, a form of protection that broke, leaving Cindy with the toughest decision of her life. Since she could remember, she always wanted a family. Ironically, it wasn't with Michael Evans. She hardly knew the man and from what she could tell, he had his own plans. When added together, no baby needed to start life in a hole like that. Although Cindy wasn't ruling out any options, it seemed that from the moment she'd read the home pregnancy test, there was little choice. A baby deserved better than what she could provide, especially at this time in her young life.
Nicole Siwic was probably a year or two older than Cindy and she only wished she had been so blessed. Nicole was one of the less fortunate souls, having been raised in one of the projects that slaughtered its youth in such ritualistic traditions as drive-by shootings. In the past five years, she witnessed more children die than most soldiers who'd experienced war. And that said nothing about the man who was the baby's father. Lionel Flores was a reputed drug dealer, constantly in and out of prison. At best, he was frighteningly violent and made love to Nicole as tenderly as he squeezed the trigger on his 9 mm Glock. For many reasons, she couldn't leave him. Mostly, it was fear. In fact, the only time she'd found the courage to try, she spent three days in the city hospital healing from her wounds. No one would help. "They're domestic problems," most would say. She supposed they were right. To top it off, the more she thought about it, the baby that grew inside her had not been conceived in love. The fetus was more a by-product of rape; its father, the predator.
Sue Lincoln came from a better part of town. Being a little older than Cindy and Nicole, she'd hurdled plenty of obstacles to know that this decision was a big one. Unfortunately, she had been impregnated by either one of two men. Either way, the baby's father was a man who simply got swept up in the drugs and alcohol with her, confusing a momentary buzz with love. Without debate, her life was a mess, but no more than most others. She had a job. She met all her responsibilities. The problem was that on the weekends, she liked to escape the real world and enter into a state of comfortable numbness. That would have to change, though. Regardless of all that she'd been through, she still cared. For her, having a child was like entering the unknown. Having a child alone, with no chance for support, however, was downright terrifying. Sue was absolutely prepared to weigh her options, but since her earliest memories, a baby was all she ever wanted. It was just too bad that some shit-bum was the one who'd given her this precious gift.
Collectively, the three women discussed options. There was no clear answer, just strong beliefs and the guilt of considering one's self.
Individually, each made her decision.
Cindy opted to go with an abortion. That way, no one would ever have to know, especially her parents. They'd be crushed. Within an hour, she could make things right again. With an abortion, she could easily put life back onto the right track and continue on. Walking past the picket signs and protesters who chanted, "Murderer!" she shielded her shameful face and entered. "The procedure" was cold and impersonal. In essence, they sucked the tiny embryo that grew inside her as if it were a cancerous tumor. Lying on the gurney, the same questions pierced her mind: "At what point does an embryo become a fetus? At what point does an egg and a sperm become life? When does the spirit enter?" They were questions of spirituality. The second trimester? Who really knew? It was her body, so it had to be her choice. She'd live with the consequences. The Pro-Life bumper stickers that read the cruelest warnings didn't know her situation. No one could possibly understand her situation.
Nicole decided to give the baby up for adoption. She carried full term and it wasn't easy. There was the morning sickness, the weight gain and the judgmental stares of neighbors who loved to gossip and point fingers. She endured all of the grief, only to forfeit the child over to strangers. Still, she had no choice. Her conscience would not allow for anything different. She'd just have to face the world and she'd wonder whether she'd ever meet her child somewhere down the road. She'd also pray, each night, that the child never felt that its biological mother didn't love it because she did, unconditionally. In fact, every day the child grew inside of her, she fell more in love. Unfortunately, she didn't possess enough to sustain any life that might someday resemble happiness or security. Would the baby come back to meet her, she wondered. Would she be able to stay away and not interfere someday? There were so many questions. In the end, however, giving the baby the best shot at life seemed the only solution for all involved. She would just love her child from afar, in her heart and forever.
Sue was a little more stubborn and refused to consider terminating the pregnancy, or giving her child away. Both seemed inhumane and not something a real woman would do. No, she was going to have the baby and struggle through the pregnancy, the labor, the birth, and when she got the newborn home, without money, daycare or financial support, she would still make it work. She had to. First of all, she'd have to get off the booze and coke. Just kicking the cocaine habit should be enough to feed and clothe a little one. Yeah, that's what she'd do… devote her life to the baby and in turn, straighten out her own life. It would be easy. She could walk away from the darkness and run into the light. She'd never really put any effort into it before anyway. This time, she'd simply draw the strength she needed from her child.
And for life, they would live with their decisions.
Although no one ever knew and to the world, life appeared normal, there wasn't a night Cindy didn't cry. Initially, she was going to tell Michael that she'd had a miscarriage, but quickly opted to go with the truth. He was crushed and the relationship didn't last another week. Her studies began to suffer and relationships with both family and friends became severely strained. No one could understand. Then again, no one knew her dark little secret. She was a killer, just like the protesters had labeled her. At least that's how she felt, like a selfish little girl who had annihilated her own flesh and blood. Picturing her baby's face, Cindy could imagine both boy and girl and the two of them hurt. Then, she sometimes pictured her parents and it hurt more. The people she loved and respected most could have never been proud of this one. She hoped it was a pain that time would ease, though she knew it was not likely to ever go away. She'd been introduced to hell, her own hell. It burned within her mind and heart. Worst of all, she feared she was destined to live in that hell for the remainder of her days.
Nicole was called worse.
The world looked at her as nothing more than the scum which fed parasites.
"What kind of selfish bitch could give up her own?" they asked.
She ignored it, but was still forced to ask herself, "Who will ever want
me now?" It didn't turn out to be the act of bravery she thought it was.
In the eyes of the world, Nicole Siwic gave away her baby the way most people
split up a litter of puppies. Inside, though she pleaded with herself to believe
she'd done the right thing, that her baby was better off; the truth was, she
honestly didn't know. There was so much sickness in the world. How did she
know if the baby was OK? The most basic instincts of a mother were to protect
her young, but the baby wasn't ten minutes old when they took him from her.
He was beautiful and as if extending a kindness or a privilege, they let her
hold the little boy for a few short moments. Due to one simple signature,
she no longer had a right to her own child. There was no turning back. To
the world, she no longer had a right to care, to protect or to love. But,
she did love him and even named him, Brian. No doubt, a picture of his wrinkled
face would burn in her mind the way a traumatic event might… perhaps
forever.
Sue had been sadly mistaken. The baby was more work than one person could
ever handle. He cried. Morning, noon and night, the little monster cried,
making it virtually impossible to stop the drinking. Postpartum depression
certainly didn't help and though Sue loved the little lad and was quite sure
she did, it was hard to feel anything warm or fuzzy. There was no money coming
in. Daycare was so damn expensive that it wasn't worth going to work. There
was no way she could make enough to pay for food and baby sitters. There was
no choice but welfare. The baby was sinking her. Emotionally, financially
and mentally, he was sinking her. Some suggested Prozac or another anti-depressant,
but Sue didn't want to hear it. Instead, she reverted to her old stand-by;
booze. Before long, however, she was drinking more than ever. And, she awoke
one morning on the side of a man she didn't know. There was a hole in the
carpet from a lit cigarette that had been dropped the night before. The baby
was covered in his own excrement and screaming from hunger. Another choice
had to be made: Foster care. It was either that, or watch her son die. It
didn't matter what others might say. Sue knew she had the right intentions.
It just didn't work out the way she had planned. Who cared what they said
about her anyway? They couldn't call her anything worse than what they already
had, or what she already thought of herself for that matter.
The three of them met at Planned Parenthood one day and had it been a different time, under different circumstances, Cindy, Nicole and Sue might have actually become friends. Unfortunately, sometimes life didn't allow the time for niceties.
