I'm In Trouble Deep

I've Been Losing Sleep

Linda didn't sleep that night. Between the knots in her stomach and the decision she made, she couldn't calm down enough to fall asleep. She hated nights when she couldn't sleep, because it meant Danny couldn't sleep, and Danny not sleeping was a bad thing. He needed his sleep more than she craved hers, and she felt guilty for keeping him up.

At about three in the morning, Danny wandered downstairs to the tv volume softly on low and his sleeping wife curled up on the couch. She was snoring lightly, so he turned the tv off and carried her back to bed. He was thankful he had tomorrow off; he really needed to talk to her about this unwanted baby.

Danny wanted children with Linda. He had known that ever since he saw her treat Jamie when he was still young enough to be babysat. She gave him such respect, even though he was a bratty seven year old.

Danny knew she'd be a fantastic mother. Never did he imagine it would be taken away from her, all because of him. He had to scare her, and because he scared her, she went into an early labor. Because of the early labor, their baby girl was born lifeless. That had been two years ago, and Linda had vehemently said she didn't want any more. That she didn't want to even try told everyone how devastated she was. He had been able to convince her to at least try again, and if she couldn't get pregnant (which until nine hours ago was looking like a definite possibility) they would adopt.

He put her to bed, whispering his love for her, telling her he'd be by her side no matter what she chose.

**********

Linda was trying to take a nap several hours later, but was finding it a difficult task. The migraine she had woken up with wasn't leaving her alone, and her stomach felt queasy and acidy. She had tried eating regular soup crackers, but she had thrown those up promptly after finishing the pack. An hour ago, Danny had been able to convince her to eat some ice cream. It always soothed her upset stomach, and the sugars helped her migraine. But not this time; her migraine was terrible, and although the ice cream helped a little bit, her stomach still felt queasy.

She had been crying ever since she found out she was pregnant. She had cried herself to sleep last night on the couch, while watching some movie about a mother and her daughter. She felt terrible about what she wanted to do. Her eyes were itchy from the tears she had just cried and her throat was dry. A wet tear spot on the pillow beneath her head was cold against her cheek.

She didn't open her eyes when she felt her husband's weight settle next to her. She smiled as he stroked her cheek, but kept her eyes closed. She hoped he wouldn't notice she had been crying.

Danny surveyed the room. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and the lights were off and curtains drawn. He ran his fingers through her shoulder length blonde hair. Five days ago, she was smiling happily, playing with her three year old niece. Five days ago, she had told Danny she wanted another kid and had dragged him into the bedroom. Now here she was, saying she was going to keep the baby, but having reservations and doubts.

"Sweetheart?"

She knew she needed to listen. "Must be important." Her eyes remained closed, her voice a little shaky. "You used the code word after all."

"It is important. Are you- can you look at me?"

She opened her eyes, her brow furrowing when she saw the sight aura. "What's up?"

"I get the feeling you don't really want this baby." He didn't beat around the bush.

Linda sighed; she should've known her answer last night wouldn't be enough. "I don't know what I want." She admitted, closing her eyes again.

"Meaning?"

"I don't want to be pregnant," she whispered quietly, ashamed of herself. She was a female, her instinct was to breed. She wanted children, she had known she wanted kids of her own since she was six years old. So why did she not want them now? Why did she not want them with the most perfect partner a girl could ask for?

"What're you going to do?"

"I don't know."

"Linda, answer me truthfully, and I won't get mad no matter what you say... do you want to get rid of the baby?" He really hoped she'd say no. He hoped that she was just really scared after what happened the last time.

Her bottom lip quivered and she started crying. Crying for herself, crying for her unborn baby. She didn't want it; she had thought about it last night and she knew she didn't want it. But being a catholic, and a pro-life one at that, she was morally conflicted. Her religious morals told her that unborn babies, or fetuses as they were so rudely called, were human beings. They breathed and they moved and they had a brain and a heartbeat. They were humans.

But her feminism was telling her she could do what she wanted: get rid of it. Go somewhere no one knew her, lie to Mary and to Danny, and just get rid of it. Her feminism told her she could do what she wanted with her body, because it was her body. Not Danny's, not Mary's, hers. But she knew that abortion was wrong; she'd be a liar if she ran off and told no one she had one done, and she'd be a murderer, and she couldn't live with that.

Her answer was barely audible, "yes."