I was brought up to believe all life is precious. My mother taught me that no one deserves to die. My father preached to me that once something is created on this big rock of ours, only God has the will to take it back to earth, from whence it came.
Growing up, I was raised on conservative beliefs, but entering high school and now, college, I was exposed to new beliefs, a reason to develop my own opinions and thoughts. I rebelled against my parents, drinking, drugs, sex — the whole nine yards.
Then came the baby. As an Asian woman on a predominantly white campus, I am certain that this baby is not Asian, and therefore, interracial. But here’s the thing: I’m not considering abortion because of the color of this baby’s skin.
I know I’ve had drinks and drugs while this fetus was developing. I didn’t think to get a pregnancy test until too many weeks into it, after spells of dizzying morning sickness, which I thought to be lasting hangovers. You have no idea of how afraid I am for this baby — the increased chance of this baby turning out to be mentally incapacitated all because I fucked up.
I believe that it is a woman’s right to make decisions on their bodies. A number of things currently go against having the baby. Time, financial stability and freedom, maturity, developmental problems, and the list, it looks like, can go on.
I am thinking about aborting this baby. I can’t stand to think that this baby will not go on to understand what it’s like to live. I don’t deserve one of life’s best miracles right now. I can’t give life to someone knowing that I fucked up. I want to do this right. I want to give life, but at the same time, I am devastated that this thing inside me doesn’t have the future it deserves.
And to date, I have no idea what to do, and time is running out.