Decisions

Abstract

The decision about whether to have a termination of pregnancy, particularly in light of a potentially unwell child, is a very difficult one. The following represents two separate accounts of the same event giving the individual thoughts of both parents confronted with this dilemma. They can be read simultaneously or consecutively or a mixture of the two.

♂ ♀

I carefully reverse into a triangular space left by two cars. What should I do?

Why didn't they just park properly? The sun dazzles me as we turn.

Why did I reverse? I never reverse. What should we do?

She hasn't said a word since we left the hospital. He should have just driven into the space.

She was asking lots of questions before to the doctor, but not now. What should I do?

It is not my fault. The sunblind is not helping, it is too small, it has always been too small.

We get out of the car and start walking towards the lake. He finally finishes manoeuvring and I get out.

I lock the door and move away, but it does not beep. Why won't he speak to me?

Did it beep? I push the door shut behind me.

Does it normally beep? It wasn't meant to be like this!

Do I want to go ahead with the….how can I kill my baby? The test was meant to reassure me, to reassure us.

I am not against it, per se. The sun has taken on the orange hue of an autumn evening.

Well maybe I am. It is no longer in my eyes and they relax.

I turn around and walk back. I start walking towards the lake.

She didn't shut the door. I think that is where he said we should go.

It beeps. What if I ‘choose’ to not make a decision?

She has not stopped. But that is choosing.

Why didn't she wait for me? Where is he, isn't he coming as well?

I start jogging to catch up, I slip. There…oh…he's going to fall.

I feel stupid. I turn my head and pretend not to notice the fall.

She didn't see. It is your choice the midwife kept saying.

An old couple walk by. My choice.

They nod their head in a greeting. Why are they putting me in this position?

In acknowledgment of my fall. Is a child just a commodity that we can refuse if we aren't happy?

She stops and I catch up, but she has not noticed me. What does he want me to do?

We start walking slowly down the path towards the lake. He won't want an abortion.

I wish she hadn't taken the test. What would my parents say?

I told her not to. Probably the same, but they just believe what they are told to.

I asked her not to. They're not the ones who have to go through it.

Then we wouldn't be in this mess. My eyelid is trembling from lack of sleep.

Now what? I hate when it does that, I can't concentrate.

My little girl is unwell and I can't make her better. It was not meant to be like this.

I can't do anything. We were meant to be a normal happy family.

I can feel the pulse in my head, pounding. The autumn leaves squelch under my feet and I slip a little with every step.

I should do more exercise. I should have worn my walking boots.

What if I can't cope? He should have told me we were coming here.

I don't even know how bad her condition will be. It cannot survive without me, more like a tumour really, a cancer.

I saw her little head on the screen, her beating heart. How can I think that? I'm not allowed to think like that.

Will she have heart problems and spend her life in hospital? I like the morning times before I am fully awake, that moment when I am happy still thinking about my dream, before.

Will we spend our lives in hospital? What if I don't love her? Or can't love her?

Why doesn't she talk to me? A dog runs in front of me and I jump a little.

A little spaniel scampers past us, with his ears bouncing up and down. Animals always scare me; I don't know what they will do?

He comes up to me. He's so cute. Why does he always have to play with them?

I bend down to pat his head. I wish I was a dog.

He nods and then turns away, already bored of his new friend. Then I would not have any problems.

I probably would want one if the abnormality was really severe. Is a dog a person?

How bad does bad have to be? It is conscious and can think.

Where do we draw the line…where should I draw the line? It knows how to fetch that stick. Well kind of.

Will her life be bad enough and what is normal anyway? Can I kill this dog?

It just becomes more abnormal the more we intervene. A newborn baby can't do anything. It just feeds and sleeps with its inbuilt reactions.

Like those kids whose ears stick out. If it came out now then it would be like one of those premature babies in an incubator.

The dog finally picks up the stick. A premature baby is a person!

I have an illness and I have rights and she should have rights like anyone else. We can't kill a person.

She should have some rights, right? What if I can't cope?

Even if she doesn't, she has the potential and it's all about the potential. That's the main question, isn't it?

I used to have ‘potential’, before. I don't want to go through surgery.

But what about the pill, is that not the same thing? The doctor said I'd probably require an operation.

I wasn't bothered about that potential, why should I care about this life? I have never liked going on walks, there's no point.

But she is still my daughter. But maybe that is better than going through childbirth.

We need to get to the lake before six thirty; I don't like being here in the dark. It doesn't think, it doesn't feel.

I touch her hand hopefully. I instinctively cling on to his hand; he never holds my hand.

I know she does not like holding hands, but she wraps her cold fingers around mine. Does it feel pain?

The park is supposed to be dangerous at night. The silence is hurting my ears.

Will she be in pain? It's about ‘her quality of life’ the midwife said.

It would be easier if she was in pain. What does that mean?

That old couple are walking past again, or maybe it is another old couple. Is it better to not be alive at all?

Will that be us in the future, walking in the park, still not speaking to each other? The wind ruffles my hair and it gets stuck in my glasses.

It is ‘the woman's decision’; her body, her choice. The trees have adopted the cold austerity of the winter offering no protection against the weather.

Good. I think, I should get new glasses.

Don't I get a choice? What will happen to us?

Is it better to have less unwell people? I've got a headache behind my right eye.

I sound like a Nazi. A migraine is starting.

I am sure the wind is louder than normal. Are we strong enough to cope without a baby?

And I don't care about anyone else anyway; I just care about my daughter. Will he leave me if we have an abortion?

But will others care about my daughter, how will she cope? Or if I have an abortion?

Surely a society should protect the weak? There are no flashing lights, it should be Ok.

Every child I have seen has always been happy. If we are having a baby just for our relationship does that make it Ok?

She won't be weak. She'll be strong like her mother. There are lots of little mounds of mud on the floor where the worms have been.

I feel sick. I think I prefer worms to dogs, they're more useful.

She's not holding my hand any more. What would she want? Would she value her own life. do I value mine?

Maybe it is something I ate? The path winds around a playground.

Or maybe I need to eat something? That boy's all covered in mud.

A little boy is playing in the mud. Where is this lake?

He looks so happy. He's so dirty.

I think he is. yes he's eating the mud. Don't his parents care?

His parents look so happy. I would look after him better.

Will I be able to forget about this decision? Even if we have one, she will always be on my mind. I feel nauseous.

I hope I can forget. Maybe it is a migraine.

The lake. Will I be able to move on from this?

Why did we bother coming to the lake? Finally the lake.

It won't help us. Maybe it has the answer.

I stare out into the lake contemplating our future. I stare out into the lake wondering what to do.

The wind unsettles the surface producing lots of little criss-crossing waves. There is a criss-crossing pattern from the wind.

Why won't she talk to me? Why won't he talk to me?

The sun has nearly gone now, making it a mix of greys. The sun has almost vanished, turning the park from orange to grey.

I look into the lake, hoping it will deliver us a decision. I look into the lake, hoping the decision will come to me.

I turn my head and stare into her eyes. I turn my head and stare into his eyes.

The wind picks up and hits the side of my face. The wind picks up and hits the side of my face.

My eyes water. My eyes water.

I hold her hand again and smile. I hold his hand again and smile.

‘What are you thinking?’ ‘What are you thinking?’

♂	♀
I carefully reverse into a triangular space left by two cars.	What should I do?
Why didn't they just park properly?	The sun dazzles me as we turn.
Why did I reverse? I never reverse.	What should we do?
She hasn't said a word since we left the hospital.	He should have just driven into the space.
She was asking lots of questions before to the doctor, but not now.	What should I do?
It is not my fault.	The sunblind is not helping, it is too small, it has always been too small.
We get out of the car and start walking towards the lake.	He finally finishes manoeuvring and I get out.
I lock the door and move away, but it does not beep.	Why won't he speak to me?
Did it beep?	I push the door shut behind me.
Does it normally beep?	It wasn't meant to be like this!
Do I want to go ahead with the….how can I kill my baby?	The test was meant to reassure me, to reassure us.
I am not against it, per se.	The sun has taken on the orange hue of an autumn evening.
Well maybe I am.	It is no longer in my eyes and they relax.
I turn around and walk back.	I start walking towards the lake.
She didn't shut the door.	I think that is where he said we should go.
It beeps.	What if I ‘choose’ to not make a decision?
She has not stopped.	But that is choosing.
Why didn't she wait for me?	Where is he, isn't he coming as well?
I start jogging to catch up, I slip.	There…oh…he's going to fall.
I feel stupid.	I turn my head and pretend not to notice the fall.
She didn't see.	It is your choice the midwife kept saying.
An old couple walk by.	My choice.
They nod their head in a greeting.	Why are they putting me in this position?
In acknowledgment of my fall.	Is a child just a commodity that we can refuse if we aren't happy?
She stops and I catch up, but she has not noticed me.	What does he want me to do?
We start walking slowly down the path towards the lake.	He won't want an abortion.
I wish she hadn't taken the test.	What would my parents say?
I told her not to.	Probably the same, but they just believe what they are told to.
I asked her not to.	They're not the ones who have to go through it.
Then we wouldn't be in this mess.	My eyelid is trembling from lack of sleep.
Now what?	I hate when it does that, I can't concentrate.
My little girl is unwell and I can't make her better.	It was not meant to be like this.
I can't do anything.	We were meant to be a normal happy family.
I can feel the pulse in my head, pounding.	The autumn leaves squelch under my feet and I slip a little with every step.
I should do more exercise.	I should have worn my walking boots.
What if I can't cope?	He should have told me we were coming here.
I don't even know how bad her condition will be.	It cannot survive without me, more like a tumour really, a cancer.
I saw her little head on the screen, her beating heart.	How can I think that? I'm not allowed to think like that.
Will she have heart problems and spend her life in hospital?	I like the morning times before I am fully awake, that moment when I am happy still thinking about my dream, before.
Will we spend our lives in hospital?	What if I don't love her? Or can't love her?
Why doesn't she talk to me?	A dog runs in front of me and I jump a little.
A little spaniel scampers past us, with his ears bouncing up and down.	Animals always scare me; I don't know what they will do?
He comes up to me. He's so cute.	Why does he always have to play with them?
I bend down to pat his head.	I wish I was a dog.
He nods and then turns away, already bored of his new friend.	Then I would not have any problems.
I probably would want one if the abnormality was really severe.	Is a dog a person?
How bad does bad have to be?	It is conscious and can think.
Where do we draw the line…where should I draw the line?	It knows how to fetch that stick. Well kind of.
Will her life be bad enough and what is normal anyway?	Can I kill this dog?
It just becomes more abnormal the more we intervene.	A newborn baby can't do anything. It just feeds and sleeps with its inbuilt reactions.
Like those kids whose ears stick out.	If it came out now then it would be like one of those premature babies in an incubator.
The dog finally picks up the stick.	A premature baby is a person!
I have an illness and I have rights and she should have rights like anyone else.	We can't kill a person.
She should have some rights, right?	What if I can't cope?
Even if she doesn't, she has the potential and it's all about the potential.	That's the main question, isn't it?
I used to have ‘potential’, before.	I don't want to go through surgery.
But what about the pill, is that not the same thing?	The doctor said I'd probably require an operation.
I wasn't bothered about that potential, why should I care about this life?	I have never liked going on walks, there's no point.
But she is still my daughter.	But maybe that is better than going through childbirth.
We need to get to the lake before six thirty; I don't like being here in the dark.	It doesn't think, it doesn't feel.
I touch her hand hopefully.	I instinctively cling on to his hand; he never holds my hand.
I know she does not like holding hands, but she wraps her cold fingers around mine.	Does it feel pain?
The park is supposed to be dangerous at night.	The silence is hurting my ears.
Will she be in pain?	It's about ‘her quality of life’ the midwife said.
It would be easier if she was in pain.	What does that mean?
That old couple are walking past again, or maybe it is another old couple.	Is it better to not be alive at all?
Will that be us in the future, walking in the park, still not speaking to each other?	The wind ruffles my hair and it gets stuck in my glasses.
It is ‘the woman's decision’; her body, her choice.	The trees have adopted the cold austerity of the winter offering no protection against the weather.
Good.	I think, I should get new glasses.
Don't I get a choice?	What will happen to us?
Is it better to have less unwell people?	I've got a headache behind my right eye.
I sound like a Nazi.	A migraine is starting.
I am sure the wind is louder than normal.	Are we strong enough to cope without a baby?
And I don't care about anyone else anyway; I just care about my daughter.	Will he leave me if we have an abortion?
But will others care about my daughter, how will she cope?	Or if I have an abortion?
Surely a society should protect the weak?	There are no flashing lights, it should be Ok.
Every child I have seen has always been happy.	If we are having a baby just for our relationship does that make it Ok?
She won't be weak. She'll be strong like her mother.	There are lots of little mounds of mud on the floor where the worms have been.
I feel sick.	I think I prefer worms to dogs, they're more useful.
She's not holding my hand any more.	What would she want? Would she value her own life. do I value mine?
Maybe it is something I ate?	The path winds around a playground.
Or maybe I need to eat something?	That boy's all covered in mud.
A little boy is playing in the mud.	Where is this lake?
He looks so happy.	He's so dirty.
I think he is. yes he's eating the mud.	Don't his parents care?
His parents look so happy.	I would look after him better.
Will I be able to forget about this decision? Even if we have one, she will always be on my mind.	I feel nauseous.
I hope I can forget.	Maybe it is a migraine.
The lake.	Will I be able to move on from this?
Why did we bother coming to the lake?	Finally the lake.
It won't help us.	Maybe it has the answer.
I stare out into the lake contemplating our future.	I stare out into the lake wondering what to do.
The wind unsettles the surface producing lots of little criss-crossing waves.	There is a criss-crossing pattern from the wind.
Why won't she talk to me?	Why won't he talk to me?
The sun has nearly gone now, making it a mix of greys.	The sun has almost vanished, turning the park from orange to grey.
I look into the lake, hoping it will deliver us a decision.	I look into the lake, hoping the decision will come to me.
I turn my head and stare into her eyes.	I turn my head and stare into his eyes.
The wind picks up and hits the side of my face.	The wind picks up and hits the side of my face.
My eyes water.	My eyes water.
I hold her hand again and smile.	I hold his hand again and smile.
‘What are you thinking?’	‘What are you thinking?’