When It Happens to You

*Trigger warning: story contains controversial themes surrounding abortion

I watched the trolly move up and down the aisles of the local Maxi, the wheels spinning so fast that it made my head spin. I was already feeling nauseous, but now it was getting worse. After deciding that watching the wheels wouldn’t make my nausea any better I decided to get along with the shopping. Bread, butter, eggs, bananas, and of course, sweet tamarind. I loved the taste of sweet tamarind, even the mere thought of it made my mouth tingle with joy. My mind started to drift off, it seemed to happen a lot lately, but I didn’t mind, if anything, it meant I could be out at the store longer, instead of going home, instead of going home to him. Alas, staring at the bananas for more than thirty minutes in this town could put a woman into a straight jacket. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, except for the fact that my mother would rather see me die. It was her, you know? It was her that made me marry George. You’re probably wondering who George is? Well, he is the nobody son from a wealthy family, and of course, he is also my not-so-loving husband. It was an arranged marriage you see, my uncle, another rich nobody, had thought it wise to join the family wealth with his dear business partner, my mother the dutiful sister, whose only concern is the family reputation, gingerly agreed, and a week later I was walking down the aisle with a veil over my head. We never really had a true connection, George and I. Our life together was so calculated and precise. I get a monthly budget from him to do all the grocery shopping and whatever is left over, I can use on myself. He pays the bills, I cook and we eat dinner together at seven. Be in bed by nine, and do it all over again in the morning. Before George, I was a nurse, and although a woman of my financial status should never need or want to work, I secretly loved it. It gave me purpose and I truly felt that I was making an impact in this small Quebec town I called home. “Is that all miss?”, the voice of the cashier jolted me out of my thoughts.

“Oui, c’est tout.”

“Bon journée!”

“Au revoir.” With that, I was gone, out of the store back into my own thoughts.

George wasn’t home when I got back, it was the norm now, he stopped telling me where he was going a while ago. “Why need to bother your pretty little head with dreary details of tedious business meetings”, he would often say. As if the big words he used were meant to confuse me and cause more disinterest on my part, unfortunately for him I was one of the very few women in town with a college education, I even went on to earn a business degree before becoming a nurse. Of course, George didn’t know that. Three years of marriage and he barely knows me at all, then again I can’t really blame him, you can’t know a person you barely speak to. I unpacked the groceries still so lost in my thoughts that I placed the eggs in the pantry instead of the refrigerator. After putting the eggs where they belonged I pulled out my long-awaited treat. The tamarind smelt sweet and earthy, one of my favourite scents in the world, I took a deep bite into the soft flesh of the tamarind, and to my surprise, I felt instantly repulsed. Running to the bathroom, I vomited out all of that morning’s breakfast. Strange, had the tamarind gone bad? I quickly headed back to the store making sure to grab the box of sweet tamarind on the way out. With my coat on, I began making my way back to the Maxi, but something was different this time, as I passed the town hall I could see a crowd filled with angry people holding up signs. Protestors. The pro-choice activists were getting more and more routy these days, with that physician Dr. Morgentaler riling everyone up. It seemed silly to me, not the cause itself, but the fact that these people truly believed they could change how the world worked, even living in one of the most progressive countries in the world had its limits. The brisk autumn wind sent a chill down my spine and I hurriedly walked into the store. Oh god, there it was again, dropping the box of tamarind on the floor I ran into the public washroom, a few worried customers followed me in. “Are you alright darling?”, an elderly woman called out from outside the stall. I finished my business and sauntered out the stall head held low and tears running down my face. I hated feeling helpless, but this was just humiliating. “I’m sorry I just had un peu de mal fruit recently, I’m sure it’s nothing”. I was half trying to reassure the women around me, but mostly trying to reassure myself. Then, a woman shouted something I forced myself to never even consider, “What if you’re pregnant? Très magnifique!” The young woman leaped with joy, but my expression was stone cold. Everything after that was a blur, but somehow along the way, I had managed to pick up a pregnancy test and got home, all I could remember from the walk home were the faces of the angry protestors standing outside in the cold autumn morning. Before I knew it, I had the small stick in my hand waiting for the results. The box had said three minutes, it felt as though centuries had passed, and as if by magic two faint lines appeared, but before the tears could travel down my cheek the phone began to ring as if it was cued up. I rushed to the phone leaving the positive test on the bathroom counter. “Hello?” I answered with my shaking voice. It was a woman, she sounded very young and was very sweet. “Good morning! Is Mr. George Warren available?” The woman asked as if she was calling the office and I was some secretary. “Um, he isn’t in currently, may I take a message?” That is what George had trained me to say, in the event that one of his clients should call the home line by accident. Giggling the woman responded, “Yes, that would be lovely. Hmm… tell him I have received the roses he has sent, and that dinner would be lovely and tell him I’ll be wearing my new red dress. This is Alyssa, he’ll know who I am. Thank you, miss, um... I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch your name… miss?” I hung up the phone before she could finish. I laughed to myself, Alyssa? So George had gone and found himself a perky young child to fool around with, I wish I could say I was surprised. All this time I thought it was just our lack of chemistry when really the reason we hadn’t been working was because he had been seeing others on the side. My mind was racing, my own thoughts disgusted me, when finally I came upon an idea. Maybe this isn’t all bad, maybe this is finally how I get out! Adultery is a common cause for divorce and even my mother couldn’t object to it. I could finally be free, be myself again, I could… I couldn't. My heart sank as I remembered what I had left waiting for me on the bathroom counter. I couldn’t leave George because of the baby, the words sounded strange in my mouth and sent daggers into my heart. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t be a mother, and if I had the child, I could never leave George, or ever remarry. All at once, the emotions came flooding in, as I sank to the floor weeping like a child. I heard the keys jingle in the doorway, it was him. George was home.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me into the bathroom making sure to lock the door behind me, quickly, and quietly I wrapped the test with toilet paper and shoved it far down the waste bin so that George would never see it, not even by accident. I cleaned myself up and fell back into our routine, dinner by seven, in bed by nine. I couldn’t let him know that anything was wrong, I had to be smart, I had to play my cards right. So, I put the whole ordeal out of my head, I could deal with that in the morning.

After kissing George goodbye I went straight to work, planning out my options. I already knew I couldn’t raise this child with George, so that was out. There was always giving it up for adoption, but if George found out I was pregnant he would never let me leave, it would turn into a scandal and even our families would overlook George’s indiscretions for the sake of the child. This was it, the only option, I had to abort the pregnancy. My head started spinning again and all I could think about were those people on the street with those signs, they were fighting for women in awful situations, they were fighting for women in my situation. Now was not the time to be weak, this was the time to be strong, this was the time to be the woman I was before I met George, before he had sucked all the passion and drive out of me. Staying would only ruin me, I had to get out.

I was still in contact with some of my old colleges at the clinic, not many people knew this, but my clinic would often help out women who were in a tight situation, whether it be with female issues, providing contraception, and even the occasional abortion. I trusted the people at my clinic, I knew they had the means and the ability to perform the procedure safely, deciding that the sooner I did it the better, I took the opposite turn when going to the Maxi that day. Walking down the all too familiar path only made me miss my life before George, more. With every step I became more and more sure of my decision, by the time I reached the cold glass door of the building, I was almost one hundred percent certain that this was the best choice I could make in that moment. Both for me, and this child. As soon as I walked in a tall, boney woman pulled me into a tight and welcoming hug.

“Édith! How long has it been we have missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Candice.”

“So what brings you here, you’re not sick are you?”

“Um… well you could say that I am in need of your less public services.”

“Quickly, come with me, don’t say anything.” With that Candice grabbed my hand and led me to the back room where the procedures used to be held, but now it was completely empty apart from a few boxes and dirty stools that were leftover.

“Candice where is everything?”

“Oh Édith, I am so sorry, but now that Dr. Morgentaler is fighting to make abortion completely legal, the group of pro-life protestors has only grown. We had to take down this part of the business so the whole clinic wouldn’t get shut down.”

“But Candice, wha… where... where will I go now.”

“Oh mon amie, I didn’t know you were asking for yourself, why would you even want… I mean aren’t you and George happy?”

“He’s cheating on me. I can’t stay.”

“Awe hun, no one will expect you to. There is only one place I know that still does the procedure, but they are not medical practitioners, they use alternative methods, I cannot guarantee that it is safe. Are you sure there is absolutely no other option?”

“Yes, I have to do this, I have to go, no matter the risk.”

“Alright hun.” With that, Candice embraced me once more and let me out to find a taxi.

The ride was long and silent, Candice barely looked at me, trying to hide her worry and guilt. I tried to assure her that this was my decision and that she was no more responsible than she could change my mind. Neither was going to happen. The car pulled up to a small shady apartment with its fair share of missing bricks. Candice led me down to the basement, where a solemn, buff woman, looked at me with an intimidating glare, she said nothing, only patting down on a small sofa bed that had been wrapped with plastic. I closed my eyes escaping into my thoughts once more, I could do this, I had to do this, I was brave. One small procedure and I could be back at the clinic eating sweet tamarind and laughing with Candice. No more pain, no more longing for a better life, I had to do this. With all my doubts gone I laid down on the bed and shut my eyes.

“Ring, ring”, George rushed to pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello this is Dr. Meir from Lasalle Hospital, may I speak to Mr. George Warren?”

“This is he, what is the purpose of your call?”

“I am so sorry sir, but earlier this evening a woman was brought to the hospital, she had severe invasive wounds and tremendous blood loss. Your wife Édith Warren is dead.”