Who said fate doesn't knock twice?

Summary: A very different abortion storyline.

Disclaimer: I hate library fines. I owe money. Owe…Ow…own…I don't own anything.

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So it's crunch time…read on Macduff! Oh and please review. My reviews have dropped and it's making me sad. I know some of you are disappointed with the way the fic is going with her negativity and not telling Sandy but I'm afraid that's how it fits into the OC as we know it. All in all this fic really does what it says on the tin (well…summary) lol! Thank you to all who have reviewed, I really enjoying hearing what you think ;-)

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December

I thought about it when I got home, I really did. I thought about sitting down, bursting into tears and telling him. But I couldn't do it. Not the last part anyway. I went to bed instead and decided. Alone.

I made the call the minute I left the house on Monday morning and for once I was glad my name was Kirsten Nichol Cohen because it meant that by 4.30 that afternoon I was sat in the doctor's waiting room. I needed to know for sure before I could really decide anything.

'Kirsten Cohen, room four.'

The doctor was female and older than me, two things I was thankful for. I thought they might make it just a little easier, she might understand my reasons better.

She was very cheerful and smiled broadly as I came in. 'Hello Mrs Cohen, don't often see you in here.'

I managed a weak smile in return as I sat on the proffered chair.

'So what seems to be the matter?'

I couldn't move or speak or think.

'Mrs Cohen?'

'Please, call me Kirsten,' I said, stalling.

'Kirsten it is. I'm Dr Marshall…Margaret Marshall.' She extended her hand and I shook it with a shake my father would not have been proud of.

'You seem nervous, tense, Kirsten,' she observed. 'What can I do to help?'

I took a deep breath. And another.

I chased the words round my mouth with my tongue but couldn't quite form them.

I opened my mouth and closed it.

Dr Marshall was very patient, waiting calmly until I finally dropped my eyes to my lap where I was agitatedly twisting my rings and spoke in a voice that didn't sound like mine.

'I…think I'm pregnant.'

'Have you taken a home test?'

I shook my head, 'It was Thanksgiving and I didn't have the chance to go out of town to buy one…I couldn't in Newport. You know…'

I gave a tight-lipped smile as she nodded understandingly and became business-like. 'What was the date of your last period?'

That was another thing about being pregnant. All the personal questions. I know it's necessary and natural and whatever but it has always got to me. I don't want to discuss that kind of thing with anyone.

'Uh…about ten weeks ago.' I was embarrassed. I should have figured something was up earlier.

'Right,' she said nodding. Well in that case I may be able to try an ultrasound or simply the normal blood test.'

'Blood test's fine,' I said quickly. There was no way I wanted to see it, hear its heartbeat. I couldn't exactly pretend it wasn't real then could I?

'Okay,' she agreed and questioned whether I would prefer to lie down. I did. I never used to have a problem with needles as a child but when I was pregnant with Seth there were some pretty big needles around, not to mention when he was born, and all of a sudden I couldn't stand them. I knew it was psychological but I couldn't help it and I really didn't want to pass out in the doctor's office. Of course, despite my fears, it was over in seconds and Dr Marshall labelled the phial as I rolled down the sleeve of my blouse.

'How long will they take?' I asked, dreading the response. I seriously couldn't live in limbo much longer.

'It depends on the backlog of tests but since we have a lab on site…could be under an hour…three or four is average, could be twenty-four.'

I sighed and she noticed.

'I'll check with the lab,' she told me, picking up the phone and ascertaining that if she took it down straight away they were about to begin a batch of tests which would be finished in an hour. 'I'm here until six, how about you…go get a coffee, browse the bookstore or something and come back then?'

I nodded; grateful I didn't have to wait until the next morning.

'Try not to worry Kirsten,' she said.

Oh yeah. Like that was gonna happen.

I was back at ten to six to find there was a slight delay. Dr Marshall had no more patients and invited me into her office again. She tried her hardest to keep me talking and distracted but I struggled for words, my throat tight.

'How long have you been married?' she asked with a nod to the rings I was clutching.

'Almost eighteen years.'

'Children?'

'One. Seth. He's in 9th grade.'

'So another baby would be rather…'

'Unexpected? Yes.'

'You can say 'unplanned' Kirsten, even 'unwanted'. It's not a crime.'

I must have looked surprised at her candidness because she gave me a motherly smile. 'I've been doing this a long time honey, and I can tell what you want the outcome to be the moment you walk in that door. It's okay; I'm not here to judge.'

'It's just…' I began, biting my lip. 'I don't think I can cope if I am. I can't do it. I love Seth but I've never felt a good enough mother. I'm not a good enough mother. I love him, I do, but I hated being pregnant, labour was hell and it took months for me to bond with him…'

'Difficult birth?'
I nodded. '33 hours. Breech. C-section.'

'Trouble breast-feeding? Post-natal depression?'

I nodded again, wondering why she was asking when it was all on my file.

'That kind of thing often manifests itself into anxiety over motherhood and being pregnant again,' she told me. 'Did you try for any more children?'

'Not…really. Sandy and Seth wanted to for a long time, but…things…happened. And now it's too late. I know what it's like to have a baby sibling and I hated it. I can't do that to Seth. I won't. I just can't alienate the son whom I'm not close enough to as it is.'

'That's understandable.'

'But you see it's not simply anxiety. It's me. I can't hide behind that excuse by itself. And I also can't pretend it's only because of my son. I'm selfish. I don't want another baby. I don't want to go through it all over again. I'm thirty five, I love my job, my life. I don't want to take time off work,' I admitted in a rush, adding, 'and my dad would go berserk. I've just been promoted to head of the residential division…' I sounded so cold, like my career was my life. No. I loved my boys but it didn't mean I couldn't love my job. Nothing wrong with that. 'I'm happy; I can't leave it right now. I don't want the baby to have to have a fully time nanny. I don't want to go to pre-natal classes, toddler groups and school events with mothers ten years younger than me. I'm just selfish.' I was rambling. I was rambling to a complete stranger, I couldn't really believe it. Maybe it was something in her quiet manner, her leading questions or the way she listened. Or perhaps it was simply the fact that I was on my fifth day without coffee, potentially pregnant and bottling up a ton of emotions inside me.

The phone rang and I froze as she answered it, the nausea flooding back and my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Dr Marshall thanked the caller and placed the phone back onto the cradle, hesitating as she turned to me. All of a sudden I was struck with the thought that perhaps it was something else. Something worse. I had been so preoccupied with the idea of being pregnant perhaps to stop myself facing up to the idea that I could be really sick. Denial is a very effective coping mechanism after all.

'The test results came back positive, Kirsten,' Dr Marshall said gently. 'You're pregnant.'

I grit my teeth against the rising tears and nausea, part relieved, part horrified that I was right.'

'Okay….' I took a deep and swallowed. 'Okay…um…'

'You don't have to decide right now...'

'Yes, yes I do,' I shot back, my tone a little panicked. 'I can't live like this. I can't… I know what I need to do.'

'Need to or want to?'

'Both. I can't go through with this pregnancy, I'm sorry.'

'Don't apologise there's no need,' she said matter of factly and I felt like squirming. 'Are you sure you don't want to discuss this with someone before you make your final decision?'

'Who?' I asked. Surely she must have realised when I'd inadvertently poured our my fears and feelings ten minutes earlier that I obviously had no one else to turn to.

'Your husband perhaps?'

'No. I can't.'

'Now this might be none of my business but surely you can talk to him; you've been married all this time and it obviously means a lot to you by the way you keep holding those rings.'

'Nervous habit,' I joked lamely. 'I love Sandy but this…this wouldn't do us any good. He'd never agree, never even consider not keeping the baby. He always wanted more children…' I paused and debated admitting something else Sandy could never know. 'I said 'things' happened, mainly they didn't, or I didn't really…let them. And then my mother got sick and Sandy stopped pushing it.'

'Well, is there anyone else?'

'My mom died of cancer nine years ago, my dad is also my boss, I haven't seen my sister in three years, my closest friend is the guy I dated in high school and my other 'friends' are all Newpsies. There isn't anyone. But I don't need anyone. This is about me and I'm fine making decisions by myself.'

Dr Marshall still looked a little sceptical, 'You know, there are counsellors here at the clinic; I could book you an appointment.'

The concern that had comforted me before was now irritating and I fought the urge to snap at her.

'No, please. No counsellors, there's no way I could talk to another stranger. Seriously, I'm fine. I just need to get this over with.'

She sighed but listened to my pleading tone. 'Ok. I won't make you do anything you don't want to do Kirsten but I need to be sure you understand what you're undertaking. You don't just snap your fingers and make something like this disappear. There will be emotional as well as physical consequences.'

'I understand,' I said, knowing I would say anything to get her off my back. I couldn't think about it or I might have gone crazy, might have begun questioning myself and that couldn't happen. I might have been relieved that I wasn't seriously ill but it wasn't any reason to change my mind. Being pregnant wasn't life-threatening in the usual sense of the word but it threatened the life I had, the life I wanted.

'I'll make some calls,' Dr Marshall said kindly. 'I'm guessing you'd prefer not to go to the HOAG…'

I tuned out what she was saying, simply nodding every so often. When I left I had an appointment for Wednesday at a hospital in L.A.

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Will she go through with it? Check back in about 5-7 days to find out!

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