Sitting in a stiff hospital chair is a local woman as it nears ever so close to midnight. A foreign friend and I sit on either side of her discussing “options”. Options of a life that is not her own. The life that grows inside of her.
Tears streaming down all three of our faces.
She explains that this is not the first pregnancy she has terminated, but it will be the third. We explain the depression she will encounter and the challenges that lie ahead for her of she chooses to terminate a third pregnancy. The possibility that this could be her last. Our bodies can only handle so much.
I sit in silence, stunned by her hopelessness. Unable to speak more than a few words here or there without squeaking or my voice cracking from the heart break that wells up inside of me.
We ask if she would consider adoption. Not an option. Her belief system does not allow adoption, since the followers are not allowed to adopt her child would not grow up in a home of similar values. Abortion is permitted by her belief system as long as the fetus is under 3 months; she is 1.5 months pregnant.
She sees no way out, terminating this pregnancy is her only option.
With every option we presented, there was one excuse or another that hindered her from allowing it to be an option. She had slowly been making choices and taking medicines over the past few days that would harm the fetus and bring its life to a very early end.
We sat there, we three, mourning for the child and mourning for the mother. She refused/refuses to think about anything in the past. There is only right now. Everything else is too overwhelming.
She said she needs to be up early in the morning for the last round of “medication” that will terminate her pregnancy. She silently walked us to the elevator. We hugged her and silently stepped on to the elevator.
Our silence was only broken by the sounds of our hearts breaking.
She has made her choice.
We stepped out into the cold and began to speak again. Only we weren’t speaking to each other. We were begging for the Almighty Father to intervene. To change her decision.
This story hasn’t officially ended. There is still a window of 6 hours for change to occur. Please ask with us that this woman will change her decision. That there is still hope.