“Mom, what if I get pregnant?” My sixteen-year-old, middle daughter, smiles at my frozen expression before popping a floret of broccoli into her mouth. The twinkle doesn’t leave her eye as she chews.
“Excuse me?” I ask to buy time and try to understand where this came from. This one always had questions, always surprised me with the things she came up with.
“I’m not pregnant, but I was wondering what you’d do if I was.” she explains.
Because I prefer humor, I said, “First, I think you need to have a boyfriend.” At least I would hope there was a boyfriend.
She makes a face at me but presses on. “Yeah, yeah, but what if…”
Taking the question more seriously I say, “We’d have to have a conversation.”
My daughter puts down her fork and listens avidly.
“We’d talk about all the choices you have and the difficulties each one would bring. Unfortunately, I can’t make that decision for you.”
“Keep it, adopt it out, abortion.” she recites, letting me know she is aware of her options.
“You say it like it’s so easy.” I remind her, “Keeping it means you will be a parent. We would help, but it will be your child.” She nods her understanding, but as a parent I know she can’t fully understand any of it.
My oldest chimes in, “Yeah, diapers, you’d have to change diapers.” Her wrinkled nose adds to the disgust in her tone.
“Abortion isn’t an easy fix like you think it is. It means you’ll live the rest of your life knowing, likely wondering what could have been. When you eventually have a child of your own, that decision may haunt you.”
She nods again, and again I am reminded that at sixteen she can’t possibly fully grasp those concepts.
“If you adopt the baby out, you will always wonder if the parents are good to that child. Is he or she safe and happy and loved? It is one of the hardest things a person can do, giving up a baby they’ve given birth to.”
“But, you won’t be, like, mad?” she asks, getting to the root of her question. And I realize I may have over-explained.
I sigh, “Mad isn’t what I’d be feeling. I can’t speak for dad, but for me, I would be sad. Sad that you had to make this impossible decision. Sad that you put yourself in a situation that could have been avoided.”
She smiles at me, “Don’t worry mom, I haven’t even kissed a guy yet, I won’t be getting pregnant for a long, long, long time.”
I laughed, “Don’t wait too long, I’m wanting grandbabies at some point!” I teased.
She laughed and we continued our meal. Her curiosity assuaged for the moment.
Rebecca Lamprey 