Page 37 of CEO's Baby Scandal
“Mom, I don’t want an abortion.” I took a bite of the banana and chewed slowly. Her expression didn’t change.
“We’ll just have the consultation today. You’ll see, Emily. The doctors say it’s very easy and painless, so you can just go on with your life like this never happened.” Mom stood and picked up her purse and keys. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”
She walked out, and I lingered in the kitchen. I was frustrated with her, but I knew that ultimately, it was my choice. At the very least, the checkup would be good. I needed prenatal vitamins, and the doctor at the free clinic might be able to recommend someone good for my obstetrician. They might also be able to give me something for my morning sickness too, which had gotten so bad I feared I was losing weight instead of gaining like I was supposed to.
I slid my shoes on, grabbed my wallet, and headed for the car. Mom had it running, listening to an oldies station. We didn’t speak the entire way to the clinic, which wasn’t even in Bellville. It was two towns over in Troy, the county seat. It sat on the south side of town in a little plaza with a dozen other shops. The door had the wordsWomen’s Clinicpainted on it, but there was no official sign. It appeared rundown, like much of the other buildings on this side of town.
Mom led me into the building, and I found a seat next to a teenager who had headphones on. She wore all black clothing and had dark lipstick. She was alone, unlike me. Some parents didn’t care at all. Others cared too much—like my mother. At twenty-five, this was my decision, though it would take the words of the doctor to make it clear to Mom. This young girl beside me looked depressed and alone. I was thankful my mother cared. I just wished she’d give me room to breathe.
We waited for at least twenty minutes, and I wondered if they were this far behind already this morning, how long would I have had to wait if the appointment were in the afternoon? The young girl was taken back before me, then the nurse returned to the door and called my name.
“Emily Kline?”
I looked up at her round face and nodded. As I stood, Mom stood too. “Mom, I don’t need you to go with me. I’m an adult.”
“Nonsense, dear. I need to speak to the doctor too.”
The nurse eyed me, as if waiting for my consent, and I shrugged. “Fine.” I followed the nurse through the door down the narrow hallway, and she opened a door.
“In here, dear. Mom, you can sit in the chair. Emily, you can sit on the table. The doc will be right with you.” The nurse excused herself, and I climbed up and sat on the table, feet dangling.
The room was cold, but Mom’s scowl made it colder. “You didn’t actually think you could do this alone, did you? I’m your mother.”
“Yes, and I’ve been going to doctor’s appointments alone for years. I don't need a babysitter.” I didn’t want to be hurtful, but she was seriously overstepping.
“Yes, well this is different, now isn’t it?” Her peaked eyebrows frustrated me. There was a point where parenting needed to end, and we had crossed that line a long time ago.
The door creaked open and a tall, handsome man walked in, blue eyes, graying hair. He smiled and shut the door behind him before saying, “Emily? And this is Mom, I assume?” He shook my hand, then my mom’s.
“Yes.”
The doctor sat and looked at his notes. “I’m Dr. Yates. It says here you’re interested in termination of pregnancy?” His eyes scanned the page then looked up at me. “Is that true?”
“Uh, not really. My mom?—”
“Yes, it’s true.” Mom was curt and blunt. She interrupted me, and I scowled.
“No, Doctor. It’s not actually true. I realize that I probably need some sort of prenatal care, but I’m not interested in?—”
“Emily,” Mom snapped, cutting me off again, “listen to the doctor. He knows what’s best. You’ll see that once this is over, you’ll move on with your life and be much happier for it.”
The doctor held up his hand, and Mom quieted. “Alright, let’s start here. Do you want your mother present for this visit?”
Mom scoffed angrily, and my shoulders drooped. I wanted my mother to be a part of it, yes, but only if she could be supportive. Her being this way, insisting on an abortion, wasn’t helping me. No girl wants her mother to control her, least of all an adult with autonomy. I sighed and dropped my head.
“No,” I mumbled.
“Mrs. Kline, could you be so kind as to let me speak with Emily alone?” The doctor stood and opened the door, and Mom scoffed again.
“But I’m her mother.”
“Mrs. Kline, legally, Emily is an adult, and she alone is allowed to make decisions for her medical care.”
I felt the room thicken with tension, but Mom left without saying another word. When the door clicked shut, I felt tears welling up and I slouched, picking at my fingernails.
“Alright, then, Emily. Now we can chat properly. Tell me about this. What’s going on in your head?” The doctor sat on his stool again, wheeling it closer to me so I was forced to look up at him.
I cleared my throat and sighed deeply. “I’m pregnant. It’s been a huge shock because it wasn’t planned. I’m in a sort of awkward relationship with the father, but he doesn’t know yet. I’m not sure if he wants kids.” I grimaced and continued. “Mom obviously thinks aborting is a good idea. I don’t.”