On my way home from the pharmacy this morning, some guy came up and thanked me for keeping my baby.
I may have given him a slightly blank stare. Not because I was a little surprised and alarmed at having a strange man approach me (I was), and not because he had a phenomenal mustache and was wearing a crazy Hawaiian shirt (he was). It was simply for the reason that, as a simple day to day matter, I often forget there is any option other than keeping a baby. I keep my Helen like I keep my husband and my parents. You might as well thank me for keeping my little brothers (although, come to think of it, maybe my mother should thank me for keeping them).
I have to admit to a bit of intellectual cowardice, here, in that I try not to think about the reality of abortion. Ever since we found out about our baby, and particularly as she has gotten more and more active and assertive, I just can't think about it. It makes me feel physically ill and more than a little overly emotional and upset. Blame the hormones, but I just can't take it, for now.
Come to think of it, the guy with the mustache should be relieved that a blank stare was all he got. The alternative was crazy pregnant-lady tears.