~ she cannot

conceive the idea of

herself being a mother

and he’s unable to imagine

himself being a father

since they both

have been

a

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.

.

.

.

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a/n:

I hope that you can see my heart inside my words and know that my heart breaks and is filled with compassion for anyone who has or is facing such a painfully difficult decision on life.

We don't want it, but--

Every other detail is a mess.

What to do, where to go,

Both too young to face this,

Her sick and him confused,

Neither having to imagine,

Having to adult quite like this,

And now a baby, a life, a choice.

It's her choice and she knows it,

Looking at the pamphlet again,

Tears lingering though it's painless,

It's no big deal, everyone gets one.

The people with the signs disagree

And she sees them heckling

As she drives past again and again,

Knowing she's running out of time.

He wants to say it but can't

As some invisible emotion grabs him

Everytime the word comes to mind.

He's never had a father, never been one,

And it's not his decision for his own kid.

It's not his place, yet the dreams stay

Of him and her running through the park,

His son's math homework, twins graduating...

He doesn't text back anymore,

So she stares at her phone in the room,

Holding back the tears as she waits.

He is miles away, doing the same,

Trying but failing to make the words out

That he isn't ready but wants to be

And doesn't want to be another statistic

Showing up at his baby's draft signing.

The seconds are agonizing as it grows,

Forming, molding, becoming a little life,

A little dependent looking to them,

But they don't regret it all the time,

Watching her take her first steps,

Going from house to house

Since she couldn't hold them together

Nor could the second or the third.

She listens in as her mom sobs again,

Barely five with two little brothers,

Her mom saying she can't do it again,

Can barely take care of them alone.

Their dad tried but ran, wishing he had

More love, more money, more balls

Than he did, so he hit her hard with it --

I wish you'd just aborted the damn baby.

Never meant it, now imagining his kids

Far away in another city, wishing to go back,

Hold her and apologize instead of running,

Leaving her to the next man so willing

To toss three hundred at her and bail

On her and leave his kids alone again.

He sees it on Facebook unfold,

Her tears, the receipts, the test, then nothing.

She wanted it, and he knew, knowing her,

Knowing how she was with the kids,

He almost goes back again,

But thinks about all that was said,

All the hell he caused her with the other woman,

His daughter refusing to cry as she coddled

Her twin brothers who were learning from him

At one that to be a man, you run.

He didn't mean it then, but he sees them

Taking his words to heart and nurturing them.

Now old, watching his daughter

Denounce deadbeats, holding her own baby,

Her own decision and life choices

As she bashes another man that she chased

Hoping for a dad and getting a deadbeat,

And regrets ever thinking of that little word.

Her:

No heartbeat.

How could I let this happen?

How could I let my baby die?

Why was I not enough to sustain them?

Everyone has told me that it wasn't my fault,

Then why do I feel so torn apart?

Him:

No heartbeat.

I'm never going to teach them how to play catch,

Not going to be able to tell my 'dad jokes,'

Look at Her,

What do I say?

What can I do?

Them: I love you.

Two perspectives, one tragedy.

I preface this by saying that the only male perspective I’ve ever had is the man leaving.

I wasn’t showing my body off to the boys or wearing inappropriate clothes.

But I got pregnant. Wonderful! I brought shame down on my family’s name, and my friends weren’t allowed to associate with me anymore because I may influence them with bad morals.

But here’s the thing that absolutely nobody else either wants to get or is too fucking selfish to understand, none of what happened was the fault of the sweet little life growing inside me!

That life, that precious beautiful little boy, had nothing to do with how he came to be created.

I never blamed him, and at 16 I walked through fire of ridicule and judgment just having him.

My point is that we are all given trials and tests in life. I could’ve taken the pansyass way and not stood up for this miracle that many women would give their right arm for, or I could do the right thing which was not be so damn selfish and consider this a gift from God because he was.

I don’t care how ever you twist the words around to make it sound ethical,

ABORTION IS MURDER.

Now give the baby up for adoption to people who will love and treat him great, that’s called humane.

That’s what we do with pet rescue. But that’s different cause that’s humane.

PEOPLE IF ITS A HUMAN LIFE GROWING INSIDE YOU, ITS NOT TRASH TO THROW AWAY!

That means if you are grown enough to have sex then take precautions so you don’t get pregnant! That means be responsible adults folks.

Use your brain knuckleheads.

And remember NO GLOVE NO LOVE!