Termination

Mrs Z is having a termination. The morning after pill did not work. We do not want another child. I would be lying if I said that I felt sanguine about it. It is a head and a heart thing: what I know and what I feel.

I know that there is no child, that there is a growth in Mrs Z's uterus that would, unchecked, become a child. But I also know that I first saw my beloved twins in a scan at six weeks. I know that I began to love them -- the idea of them at least -- at that point.

I am trying not to think about it. I am trying to cage in with rationality any thoughts that try to escape. I am opting for numbness. I would rather we did the thing and then if I must feel anything, I will feel it then.

I could not offer it a life. I would always know I had not wanted it. And yet... My youngest sister, J, was the outcome of a broken rubber (or a drunk who could not control himself, depending on who you talk to). We all know that because my parents are not discreet. There was no emergency contraception in my mother's day. She was happy enough to have a third child not to consider a termination, even had she accepted that as a possibility, which she did not. My parents have always loved J just the same as they do me and S, my other sister. None of us can imagine life without J, nor would we want to. I am thankful that she lives. I will never have a day on which I am not thankful for her life.

Mrs Z has no doubt. She made up her mind as soon as she knew she was pregnant. She asked what I thought and I told her; but I did not expect to decide or want to. (Not out of cowardice but because I firmly believe women should make their own choices about their own bodies; if Mrs Z had decided she wanted the baby, I would be writing a post about coming to terms with having another child, and I would support it without demur.) But Mrs Z is in this thing practical. She does not believe in sacrificing her life to an idea. She is already giving so much of it to her children.

It is a truism that the principles we allow to guide our politics, our morality and the way we think about things are easier to hold when we are not confronted with the need of their application; in other words, it's a lot easier to pontificate about how others should act than do it ourselves. Our choices are harder than we pretend others' are. I do not feel like Mrs Z is simply having a minor operation. Although I know it is true, I cannot make myself entirely believe it. I don't believe a father can look at his children, laughing in their high chair, clapping with delight at teatime, milking a cow, and not feel a twinge at consigning the smudge on the screen, albeit only a being in potentia, to oblivion.

posted by Dr Zen @ 3:41 pm