I drove home from work determined to go about life as usual. From the depths of my soul, I yearned for status quo. I took the exact same route, parked my car in the very same spot, and walked directly to the mailbox, as usual. There were two pieces of mail that day: a free sample of Carefree maxi pads and a gossip magazine featuring pregnant starlets. I sank to the ground, perched on the curb, and melted into hysterics. The universe was conspiring against me, mocking me from afar.
Sixteen months ago, our daughter surprised us by arriving more than three weeks prior to her scheduled c-section. Lying behind the blue curtain that night, I eagerly awaited the good news. The doctor had reassured me that, despite coming early, she would be just fine. So when the first words out of my OB’s mouth were, “Oh, no. Oh, my God,” I was stunned. Panicked, actually. As you can likely imagine, these are not the words any mother wants to hear from her doctor as he is delivering her baby. Though the drugs they had administered rendered me incapable of having any feeling below my chest, my brain was still on high alert. I demanded that he tell me what was wrong. He stuttered for a moment until I demanded again, only this time my voice was louder and at a somewhat higher pitch. He reassured me that my little one was fine, but informed me that my uterus was stretched out paper thin and showing signs of dissolution. Moments later, Mayzie was born and I forgot all about what he had said. Miracles have a way of helping us prioritize. Her Apgar scores were perfect, and so was she. I feel deeply in love with her the moment I saw her little face.
I saw the doctor the next day as he came to check in on me during rounds.
“Larissa, I know that you are Italian and I respect the fact that you have always wanted to have a big family, but we’re going to have to stop here. You have three perfect, beautiful children who will keep you plenty busy and plenty happy. I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this.”
It turns out that Mayzie saved her own life as well as mine by bounding into the world on her own timetable. I was at great risk to suffer a ruptured uterus, which typically ends in death for both mother and unborn infant. She was a miracle in more ways than one.
The decision to undergo surgery that would render me barren was an easy one to make. Who in her right mind would risk her life when she has three children and a husband counting on her to live? I never had a moment’s regret that our “party of five” would not grow. I had already been blessed beyond compare.
When the pregnancy test came out positive, my heart stopped. I fought to breathe. This was never supposed to happen. I had been responsible, damn it! I had paid someone a good deal of money to perform a procedure that ensured that this would never take place, that I would never be forced to choose between my own life and that of my unborn child’s. And yet, here I was.
I am decidedly pro-choice, though not necessarily for myself. If ever there was an “easy” decision, this would surely be it, right? Cause and effect: you allow the pregnancy to continue and both you and the baby die, or you terminate the pregnancy and you live.
It is not easy. It is hard. It is terrible. It is heartbreaking and soul crushing and completely unfair.
For the rest of my life I will be forced to wonder. Who was this baby? Was it a boy or a girl? What would his or her name have been, could I have carried to term? Would she be sweet and shy like her brothers or opinionated and forceful like his sister?
I will never know because I chose to live. I put my life before someone else’s. I have never, ever, not even once put myself before my children, which is why I made the choice I did. I chose to live for the three children I have rather than die for the one who would likely never see the light of day. Some will call me selfish, and perhaps that is true. Others will call me a murderer, and that may be true, too. But I am the one who must live with my decision, and I decided to give my family the gift and the promise of having me around for as long as possible to participate in their lives because they are the ones who matter the most.
As it turns out, I am decidedly pro-life, it’s just that the life for which I advocated was my own. And I will live with that for the rest of my days.
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