“Are you sure about this?”
Eva leans forward to rest her head in her hands. Her fiancée, whom she thinks voiced the question but is unsure because of the gravity of the situation, comfortingly rubs her back.
“I don’t know,” Eva breathes out more than says. “I just don’t know.”
“Well, babe, let’s talk about it.”
She runs her hand through thick shoulder length black hair. Seeing the hair, in this particular conversation, causes her to shudder a bit. Alex, her fiancé, must notice because he places his free hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze.
“This isn’t just a pro and con list,” Eva says, shaking her head.
“I know,” Alex half whispers, “I know”.
“If you know, then what do you want to talk about?” Eva sits up and looks at Alex. His green iris’s cause her to shift her view away from him quickly.
“Why wouldn’t you want to do it?” Alex turns his chair slightly so he is facing Eva.
“It isn’t a simple decision, Alex,” Tension is heard in Eva’s voice. “People don’t just make life altering decisions without a little apprehension.”
“Okay, Hun,” Alex maintains a smooth and comforting tone, despite Eva’s irritation. “Its, just, we talked about this for the past couple of weeks. You were certain this is what you wanted, I am certain it is what I want to do. So, I am trying to find out why you are unsure now.”
Eva turns away from Alex, lips pursed and eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I don’t know why I am uncertain now.”
“Maybe I can help?” the doctor chimes in. Eva is startled. She forgot they were even in the doctor’s office. Now that she remembers where she is, a chill of cool air affects her skin and causes a shudder through her spine.
“How so?” Eva asks.
“Maybe there are some questions you might have that I can answer?” the doctor replies. “I can certainly clear up any confusion?”
Eva stands up and paces from one wall to the other. It isn’t a long pace. Seven small steps at most.
There are several decorations adorning the walls. Among them are the doctor’s credentials, something of a Picasso painting, and a plaque for finishing a sporting event of some kind. She is unable to really take note of specifics, considering her mind is consumed with weightier matters. Alex and the doctor wait patiently, in silence.
“Will there be any pain?” Eva continues pacing, but slows significantly when she asks the question.
“No,” the doctor answers bluntly. “We use an anesthetic, so there won’t be any pain. The procedure will occur in a sedated state.”
Eva nods and ponders again in silence. She takes in deep and slow breathes in an attempt to avoid any emotion from showing. If she were to breathe normally, she is almost certain she will break into tears.
“What is the process from there?” She continues her inquiry.
“After the anesthetic is administered, we will remove the specimen to a controlled environment and simply cut off air supply,” the doctor’s voice is even and cold, similar to the general atmosphere in the room. “It will all occur without consciousness, so it will be peaceful.”
Eva stops, crosses her arms across her stomach and waits for a moment. She feels it. The lump forming in her throat and pounding in her chest; she is about to cry. Alex, noticing the disfiguring of her face jumps up and hugs her. Eva nestles her face in the crevice of his neck and allows tears to freely flow.
“Do we have any more time to think about this?” Alex asks the doctor.
“If we don’t do this today, we will have to get adoption services involved,” the doctor responds.
Alex nods his head slightly and gives Eva a squeeze. He allows her another moment to cry before urging the process along. He believes this will be for their good.
“Eva, darling,” Alex begins, but is cut off.
“I know, sweetheart,” Eva says between sobs. Sniffing a couple of times, she continues. “I know we need to do this.” Stepping away from Alex, she peers at the doctor. “We thought we were ready, but,” she doesn’t finish the sentence.
“It happens more than you think,” the doctor responds, a flash of a smile creasing his lips. The smile is gone as suddenly as it appeared. He pulls a tissue from a box sitting on the corner of his desk. Eva accepts it.
“A lot of people think they are ready, only to find out they aren’t,” the doctor continues. “A career to start, school to attend, places to visit, dreams to chase, or, simply, the realization of lost freedom. We all feel the strains of parenthood. There is no shame in walking away from it. After all, it is our choice to raise a child.”
“I just wish we would have known sooner, before we even tried,” Eva sits down, followed by Alex.
“Of course you do,” the doctor says reassuringly. “Some experiences, though, we just can’t imagine. Sometimes we don’t know until we try.”
“I agree,” Alex says.
“I suppose,” Eva makes one last swipe under her nose with the tissue clasped in her hand.
“So, what do we do now?” Alex asks the doctor.
“The documents have all been prepared,” the doctor reaches inside a drawer on the left side of his desk, bending down slightly. “All you need to do is sign them.”
“That’s it?” Eva is dumbfounded by the simplicity.
“Yes,” the doctor stands up from the chair to walk around the desk and hand a copy of documents to both Alex and Eva. “The documents are identical. Just look over each page, initial the bottom, and sign the last page.”
Taking the pen from their clip boards, Alex and Eva begin flipping through the pages and initialing the bottom of each page and signing the document. Alex breezes through the ten or so pages of legal language, seemingly to just initial each page without really reading through the document. He is done within a minute of being handed the document.
Eva, taking time to browse through the language, tries to ignore the eyes on her. Each tick of the clock seems to become louder and louder. The air feels to become stale. The light appears to dim. The longer she takes on each sentence, the less she is able to understand it. Is this even in English?
Losing patience and feeling uncomfortable, Eva follows Alex’s method of initialing and signing. She knows what the document means. She knows the vast change that will come to her life from signing it. What else does she need to know? Eva mindlessly initials each page, signs the back, and hands the clip board back to the doctor, who is sitting on the corner of the desk.
“Thank you,” the doctor takes the document off the clip board and scoops up a white lab coat hanging on a coat hanger behind the desk. “This way please.” The doctor holds a door open, a door neither Eva nor Alex noticed before, and signals for them to exit the office.
“Where does that lead?” Alex asks.
“To the parking lot,” the doctor replies.
“Can we not see her one more time?” Eva asks, her face turning white.
“It’s best that you don’t,” the doctor answers, more coldly than before.
“I just want to say goodbye,” Eva says, tears welling up in her eyes again.
“He’s right, Eva,” Alex places a hand on each shoulder. “It’s best we just go.”
Eva hesitates before following Alex through the door. They walk down the short corridor, which seems to be a mile long, and through the metal double doors into the parking lot.
The doctor closes the exit door, tugs at the white lab coat to remove any site of a wrinkle from its surface, and exits the office through the door leading into the clinic.
It is a simple clinic. White walls, blue carpet, and very little art work adorning the walls. In this line of work, it is best to keep things as impersonal as possible.
The doctor, approaching the administrative desk, places the two documents Alex and Eva had completed less than five minutes prior. The administrator, a strict looking woman in her late thirties, doesn’t even look up from the desk before scanning the documents and begins processing them.
“Where is the specimen?” the doctor asks. Again, the administrator keeps her eyes focused on the desktop and simply points. She points to Lab Room One.
“Thank you,” the doctor says.
“Uh-huh,” the administrator grunts.
Pushing down on the handle of the lab room door, the doctor scans a key card hanging from the lab coat and walks through the door. Lying on the table is the specimen.
She has black hair, just like Eva. When the newborn opens her eyes, the doctor notices she has green eyes, just like Alex. This pleases the doctor. Green eyes are in vogue these days. Furthermore, both Alex and Eva are healthy.
This specimen, as the doctor chooses to refer to her as, should bring in a plentiful bounty. The doctor smiles at the thought of the payday ahead and pulls a pair of blue rubber gloves from a rectangular box. The napping sound of the gloves fitting snuggly around the doctor’s wrist says “let’s get started”.
If this short story makes your stomach turn, then I am glad. It turned my stomach writing it. I think anyone with a child would feel the same way.
The story is meant to depict the reality of Planned Parenthood and the hypocrisy of “pro-choice”.
Planned Parenthood is aborting children, in some instances intentionally pushing the abortion past normal perimeters, and then selling the body parts and tissue of the aborted children. As though discarding of the child as burdensome waste is not enough, they destroy any dignity the helpless child might have by taking from him or her the only thing they own; a physical body. Go ahead and square that one away with the Due Process Clause in the United States Constitution (“nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law”).
Abortion advocates say it is their right to protect their bodies from pregnancy and protect their lives from the cumbersome nature of parenthood, by aborting children. However, in the act of abortion they are denying the child from making any choice within HIS or HER life at all. That child, the one created through the amazing science of procreation, is at the mercy of HIS or HER parents until HE or SHE has gained full use of HIS or HER faculties. Notice I use “HIS or HER” and “HE or SHE” instead of “IT”. That is because HE or SHE is a PERSON; a living and breathing HUMAN BEING. Where was HIS or HER choice, “pro-choice” advocates?
I agree we all have the choice to become or not become parents; however, I recognize it is morally wrong to make that choice after conception. Hers is some “planned parenthood”: Do not have sex until you are married and ready for the possibility of children! Proper planning for parenthood should not include the option of killing a child procreated because the parents are not ready for that child.
We have turned a blind eye to abortion, which is the same as offering up children to murder. Can we turn a blind eye to selling the body parts of those children?
Cecil the Lion, a lion hunted and killed by a Dentist from Minnesota, has afforded more outcry from American citizens than the evidence of Planned Parenthood killing unborn children and then selling their body parts.
There are two petitions going around. One is to extradite the Minnesota Dentist to Zimbabwe for punishment and the other is to defund Planned Parenthood. The Cecil the Lion petition has gained 229,783 signatories in less than two weeks. Defunding Planned Parenthood has gained only 21,560 signatories with close to a month of petitioning.
If this short story made you think, then I hope it inspires action. Sign the petition (Click here for it), talk to your family and friends about this vital issue in our country, and seek to change some hearts. This is not a matter of opinion. It is a matter of morals. Can we continue to turn a blind eye to it because it makes us uncomfortable, we don’t want to have the possibility of contention, or we are simply too busy? I hope not.
If you are for Planned Parenthood, I ask you to put abortion into perspective. You may think this short story presents an extreme example, but that is abortion in practice. As far as full-term abortions, we are not that far from it. And the actual practice of full-term abortion makes my short story appear mild.
We are Americans. We represent America. Let’s conduct ourselves in accordance to the America we inherited from our founding fathers. Let’s hold true to the moral principles founded in that document, which is, whether or not you agree, is religious in nature.