Mind Made

Brad wanted me to come over so we could talk some more about the pregnancy now that time had passed for us to both think about it. My first referral appointment is on Wednesday and I had already decided that I wasn’t going to tell Brad until a few days after my final appointment on Saturday. I just didn’t want him to make it more difficult than it was already going to be. I didn’t really want to talk to Brad about the pregnancy but decided to hear what he had to say, anyway, since we both had time to think about things. I knew there was an almost impossible chance I’d change my mind no matter what he said but when I eventually tell him about the abortion, I want him to at least feel like he got to have his thoughts taken into consideration before it happened.

“Hey, I made dinner! It’s a surprise though!”

“Okay.” I said smiling.

Brad walked me to his dining room table and moved my chair out for me. I sat down and put a napkin on my lap.

“I thought I’d try to make something kind of fancy for dinner.” He said putting a plate in front of me.

It had a sandwich on it.

“I made turkey Paninis with apples and brie.”

“Oh…” I said looking at it, “that’s…so great.”

Brad put his plate down on the other side of the table and sat down. He dug in but I just listlessly stared at my food.

“What’s wrong? Are you having some morning sickness?” He asked.

“No…I just, uh, can’t eat this.”

“Oh, it’s too hot?”

“No. You can’t eat brie when you’re pregnant, Brad.” I said gently.

Brad’s face fell. I felt guilty for pointing it out, especially considering that it doesn’t really matter if I put this pregnancy in jeopardy by eating certain types of cheese, considering what I’m doing on Saturday but it felt wrong to eat it. Just in case, I guess?

“Oh, well, these suck anyway.” He said throwing the Paninis in the trash, “How about macaroni and cheese?”

He was going through his cupboards, which were full of Kraft macaroni and cheese boxes, ramen noodles, and canned soups.

“Um, you know I’m not really that hungry.” I said.

“Oh. Okay. So, anyway, I’ve been thinking about our situation.”

“Okay.”

Brad pulled me up from the table and over to the couch.

“How are you feeling about it?” Brad asked, “Now that you’ve had some time to think about everything?”

“Um, I’m not feeling that positive, to be honest.”

I didn’t want to make Brad feel like I was lying to him about how I felt about everything. I didn’t want to give him the impression that I wanted this and was as excited as he was, but I didn’t want to tell Brad about the abortion because I knew he’d fight me on it and cause more problems where there were already enough.

Brad looked disappointed with my answer but didn’t let it deter him.

“Well, the more I’ve thought about it, the more I realize that we aren’t really prepared to be parents...”

I felt hopeful that maybe Brad would bring up terminating the pregnancy for a brief moment, until he kept talking.

“…But we’ve got time to get there. You know, I can sign us up for parenting classes, I can rent some baby books from the library for us to read. We can get ready. So I don’t want you to feel worried about that.”

“I’m not worried about that.” I said.

Brad picked up my hand and held it in his before looking deep into my eyes.

“I know this is not ideal. I know you probably never imagined that this would be how you had a kid. It’s not how I imagined it either, but I want you to know that I support you and I will be there through it all.”

I decided to test the waters a bit.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

“What if I don’t want to do this? What if I want to put it up for adoption?”

Brad dropped my hand and looked angry. But his voice was cold when he spoke.

“I’m not putting my kid up for adoption. I can’t believe you’d even suggest that. We’re its parents, Faith, and we’d be the best thing for it. I don’t want it to be raised by strangers, it should be raised by us, together, as a family. It'll be scary and hard work, Faith, but we'll always have each other to lean on through it. Would you really want to go through childbirth knowing it would be for nothing?”

If I’d had any doubts before this (I didn't, for the record), Brad solidified my decision. He saw this pregnancy as an opportunity to keep himself tethered to me and was completely unwilling to listen to any semblance of reason. This is my LIFE. It is not a bad 80’s song where Brad and I are gonna make it by just barely getting by all the time. 

That’s not what I want.

“I guess not.” I said quietly, "What about abortion? Then it wouldn't be raised by strangers..."

Brad's eyes got huge and he looked deranged.

"Don't even joke about that Faith! That's, obviously not an option. I'd never let you kill my baby."

Brad put his hand on my stomach which made me very uncomfortable. It's like he saw me as an incubator for his child and not a person with feelings.

"I didn't know you were against that." I muttered.

Brad looked up from my stomach.

"I'm not against it for other people. But you and I made this thing together. It's not an option for us."

I hated how Brad was acting like he had an equal stake in this situation because he doesn't. I'm the one that would have to give birth, I'm the one who would have to go through the pregnancy, I'm the one who'd have to move out of my apartment, and I'm the one who'd have to pretend to be happy about it all. Not "us", not "we". And I'd eventually be the one left to care for it when Brad decided he didn't want to be in the picture anymore, I mean, let's be honest, this relationship isn't going to last the next 18 years. Brad will get the sweetest end of the stick in this situation; he'll get to see the kid every other weekend and on certain holidays and play dad while I get to work at Bruno's for the rest of my life and be the full-time mom, dad, disciplinarian, and provider. Brad is clearly excited about this pregnancy but having visions of being a parent is not the same as actually being a parent and I have no faith in Brad that parenting is something he would be good at or be around for long-term; I've known him long enough to know that he is too immature to be a parent, at least in this situation.

But I kept my mouth shut because his responses had confirmed just how right I was not to tell him before it happened. And his responses just confirmed that this was the best choice, not just for me, but for him as well. He won't see it that way at first, but he'll eventually see it with time, and if I have to be the one who grows up and deals with this, then I will do that for both of us and he can hate me for it as long as he needs.

“I have to go, I told Molly I’d get the kitchen cleaned up by the time she got home tonight.” I said getting up to leave.

“Molly is making you clean? In your condition?”

“She doesn’t know yet,” I lied, “And it’s not like I’m super fragile, Brad. I can handle emptying the dishwasher and wiping down the counters. Geez. This isn’t Victorian England.”

"Why haven't you told her yet? Surely you've told Anna and Zoey?"

"No." I said.

"Why?" Brad seemed suddenly defensive.

"Because, traditionally, you wait to tell people once the first trimester is over..."

"Why?" Brad asked like he was giving me the third degree.

"Because the risk of miscarrying is really high in the first trimester and a lot of people don't want to get excited and tell all of their friends and family only to miscarry and have to explain to everyone what happened."

"Oh." He said holding the door open for me.

Brad gave me a kiss on the cheek before I left.