Living with Jennifer Lawrence

[80:] Results

Maddie's P.O.V.

PREGNANT.

It was as if the world froze. All sudden movements ceased to exist.

A knock on the door. Jen. “Are you okay in there?”

I was too stunned, too shocked to even give a reply. My body slumped to the floor and I held on to the pregnancy test tight. I didn't dare move or blink.

“Maddie, I'm coming in there!” Somehow, she was able to open the locked door.

My eyes wouldn't stop staring at the test. I read the results over and over and over again: PREGNANT.

I was too tired to cry. I felt weak. Blank. Numb.

Gratefully, Jen didn't ask me about the results. Instead, she looked at it herself and the tiniest of gasps escaped her lips.

I release the pregnancy test. Maybe this is a joke. Maybe if I just wake up, I'll realize this is just a dream. More like a nightmare. A horrible nightmare that I'll wake up from. Then I can continue on with my day.

But, no. That never happens.

I even try to blink a few times to wake myself up from this world I live in.

Jen gently touched my cheek with her fingertips. “Maddie, look at me. Please, just look at me. Everything will be all right.”

That's when the unintended rage set in. “Fine? You think that everything will be all right? No, it won't! Everything is not all right! What am I supposed to do? I never wanted this! I never wanted any of this!” Then the sobs began.

She embraced me with all of her motherly love and kindness.

I think I set a world record for the number of tears shed in less than five minutes.

My eyes move themselves, to none other than my stomach.

“Shhh.” Jen rocked me back and forth on the cold tile floor. “Just calm down, then we'll discuss this.”

“I can't believe there's a... baby in here,” I whisper. “I want it out,” I tell her more firmly this time.

“Now, Maddie. Think about this. There is a baby in there, whether you accept it or not. We'll go over all of the options---”

“It's already thought about. And I want it out.”

“I guess I can't stop you, can I?” Jen said, unsure of herself. “Please think long and hard about this... I knew this girl who got an abortion and she regretted it for the rest of her life. This is a big decision. A huge one. But it's your decision, I can't make it for you. All I ask is that you think about it. Think about the good things and the bad things. And when you get your answer, let me know.”

She kissed me on the forehead and got up, offering me her hand.

I weakly accept it, and stare at my reflection. The girl I see isn't me. It can't be.

Blue eyes, disheveled hair, average height. But now there was a new addition. My stomach couldn't process all of this, so I threw up in the toilet. I felt my back being patted and rubbed as my insides came out.

If only the baby would, too.

* * *

I woke up in the morning feeling different knowing that something was inside of me.

Jen was in kitchen, making a pot of coffee. Everyone else was nowhere to be found.

“Morning, Maddie,” Jen said, as if nothing has changed.

“Morning,” I replied hoarsely.

Jen's laptop was open, and guess what she was searching? Abortion.

“Hey---” I started.

“Look, I know you said you don't want to keep it, but I feel as if you deserve to know what you're agreeing to.”

I sighed, then sat on one of the barstools.

She clicked onto another tab, and I saw a black and white picture of an ultrasound.

“The... incident happened, what, two months ago?”

When I nodded, she continued, “Well, if that's the case, right now I'd say you're at eight weeks. And at eight weeks, fingers and toes are starting to form.”

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” I muttered and swallowed the bile that threatened to come up.

“And that's the size, it's the size of a kidney bean,” she said, showing me a photo of the fetus at eight weeks. Tiny, just as I suspected.

My heart accelerated when I thought about this: “Does this mean it's too late to get an abortion?”

“Not yet. You have a few more weeks to decide.”

I sighed out of relief. “Good.”

“See that little baby?” Jen asked, pointing to the fetus on the screen, “He or she is in there”--she pointed to my abdomen---“and...”

“Go ahead. Say it.” I tell her, annoyed. “Call me a killer. A murderer. I know you want to. You think this is a mistake. But I can do whatever I want, it's my body! Just because you kept your baby doesn't mean I have to keep mine.” I cross my arms. “Besides, why do you want me to keep this, anyway?”

“I care too much about you for you to not even think about it. Although I can't stop you from making this decision, I can give you resources and information. I have certain feelings about this topic and...”

“You think this is a bad idea, don't you? You think I'm making a mistake. That's where you're wrong. I'm old enough to make decisions for myself and this is what I want. I. Want. It. Out.” I was starting to feel bad for being so rude to her. I never talk to her like this.

“You're right. I can't force you. You are becoming an adult and I know that you can make your own decisions... So, fine. If this is what you want, then so be it. That doesn't mean I have to like it.” Her eyes welled up with tears but she quickly blinked them back as she grabbed a mug and poured black coffee in it. “I just wish you would think about it.”

“I'll make the appointment,” she offered before I could say anything. “Hopefully they'll see you by next week.”