When both lines distinctly appeared on the pregnancy test, denial came first.
The tears followed.
Hot, quick, silent sobs were next.
Silent because this was a secret.
Fear followed the crying. All while sitting in my mother’s bathroom.
“I’m leaving,” I heard her call. She also informed me that my Target uniform T-shirt was hanging in the laundry room.
I sobbed again. Only this time louder.
My mom still did my laundry.
How would she feel if she knew there could be laundry from a baby? I was never going to tell her. I was alone. Loneliness was the emotion that didn’t retreat. The denial left. I stopped crying. Loneliness was the emotion that didn’t retreat. Fear and loneliness traveled with me for several days.
Alone, I called an abortion clinic. They had an immediate opening. They wanted to know if I wanted a “Private VIP” abortion experience.
“What?”
“You would be the only patient in the clinic. You can have a guest until you go to sleep. The full staff will be attending you. Then it will all be over. You won’t have to worry anymore.”
I didn’t have a guest to take. I didn’t have money for even the non-VIP experience. AND abortion wasn’t right.
We’re all lonely sometimes, but after a lot of prayers, I decided an open adoption was the only option I could live with.
My little girl is three now. I see her regularly, and I do my own laundry.
She lives with a family who I adore. I’ve become a supervisor at work and am taking night classes for a college education.
I no longer feel lonely.