Chapter 13
Lily’s POV
I pulled the hood of my hoodie down, trying to shield my face. A foolish move, I knew, but the action gave me a slight comfort, as if as long as no one recognized me, I wasn’t really
here, wasn’t really doing this.
The reception area of the Women’s Choice Center was decorated warmly, with soft–colored abstract paintings hanging on the walls and potted plants in the corners. But these details couldn’t ease the nausea churning in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was the morning sickness from the pregnancy or the decision I was about to make that was causing it.
I felt anxious, even possibly excited, to rid myself of this child, but each time I felt a pang
of guilt and thought of how much I wanted something that was truly mine. If I lost this
child, I would be lonely, but if I had this child, then I would have to feed another mouth,
and the cost of raising a child was high, undoubtedly helping me make a decision.
Besides the expenses I needed to cover myself, the amount of money was ridiculous,
unrealistic. To earn more income, I would have to work hard. However, with each passing
day, I grew more attached to the growing baby, sometimes even touching my flat stomach, with barely any signs of pregnancy.
“Lily Reed?” a bespectacled woman smiled and called my name.
I stood up, legs feeling weak, and followed her down a long corridor.
“How has your day been?” she asked gently.
I almost laughed. How has my day been? I was pregnant with a child I couldn’t afford, about to end its life, and possibly my dream of having a family. I’m fine, thank you for asking.
“Fine,” I replied nonchalantly.
In the consultation room, the woman – her name tag read “Karen” – sat across from me, holding a folder.
“Lily, before we proceed, I need to confirm some information. How far along are you in your pregnancy?”
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“Three months,” I answered softly.
“Is this your first pregnancy?”
I nodded.
“Does the child’s father know you’re pregnant?”
My heart raced. Nathan. His handsome yet often aloof face flashed in my mind. Those green eyes, the small scar above his left eyebrow. I understood the counselor and the doctor were just doing their jobs, but why questions about my pregnancy and the child’s father made me doubt myself, I wanted to know if this was more about fear of money.
“No, he doesn’t know,” I replied.
Karen frowned slightly. “Have you considered telling him?”
I shook my head. “No need. It’s my decision.”
“Understood,” she paused, “Lily, can you tell me why you’ve decided to terminate this pregnancy?”
I took a deep breath, trying to control the trembling in my voice. “I can’t afford a child. I have almost no savings, can barely pay rent. I can’t provide the life this child deserves.”
I didn’t mention the deeper fears – I was afraid of Nathan’s reaction. Did the Sullivan family need this child? Would he mock me? Would he force me to terminate the pregnancy? Would he like the child? Did he have children with someone else?
Karen listened patiently, then handed me a stack of documents. “These are information about the abortion process you need to know, including possible risks and post–operative care advice. Please read them carefully. We will then schedule an ultrasound to confirm the weeks of pregnancy.”
I mechanically took the documents and started reading. With each page turned, my heartbeat grew heavier. Some terms made me fearful, and when I saw the price and learned it wasn’t covered by my insurance, I must have had a strange expression on my face.
After a while, Karen led me to another room. A middle–aged male doctor greeted me,
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asking me to lie on the examination table and lift my shirt.
“This ultrasound is just to confirm the weeks of pregnancy,” he explained, “You don’t have
to look at the screen.”
I nodded, keeping my gaze fixed on the ceiling. The cold gel was applied to my abdomen, and I involuntarily flinched.
The doctor began moving the probe, the room filled with the staticky sound. I closed my eyes, trying to let my mind drift elsewhere.
Then, I heard it.
A rapid, rhythmic sound – thump thump, thump thump.
My eyes flew open, involuntarily turning towards the screen.
“Is that…?” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
The doctor nodded. “Yes, that’s the fetal heartbeat. Very healthy and strong.”
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