The last few weeks had been like an out-of-body experience for Cassandra. She'd gone to back to her old life as a changed woman. She woke up, had a shower, ate her breakfast, and headed to the vet clinic just like she always did, came home, cooked, and went to bed, yet … something was different.
Even when there were no things that would have triggered her to think about the operation, she thought about it. In the vet clinic, it was obvious those thoughts kept her company; she was surrounded by instruments and clinical operations, but it was times when she was in the grocery store, buying milk and eggs, that took her by surprise. Why was she thinking about it now when she didn't have to?
Still, she didn't regret going through with it, but she regretted that it had even come to that.
Going through an abortion had raised many questions about what would happen in the future–would she want children? What if she couldn't even have children anymore?–things she'd never really thought about with this much intensity.
Before, she hadn't really known how to feel about it; her mind had been open to whatever would come, depending on the situation. But now she was chased by the thoughts, almost as if knowing the answers to them was the key to her feeling more like her new self.
She hadn't talked to Caleb after seeing him at the loft on the day of the operation, but it felt like they needed to get some space between them anyway to figure themselves out. He had his part to deal with; she had hers. They weren't the same story, and it wasn't a good idea to try to fit those two narratives together right now.
When she'd been cleared by the clinician after her four week follow-up pelvic exam, Cassandra had the need to talk to someone even though she didn't normally talk about these kind of things to anyone, not even to Amy, who'd kindly offered to listen. Her friend had been sweet to do that, but Cassandra didn't feel like talking to her, just because of herself and not because of anything that had to do with Amy.
When she was getting dressed and the clinician was writing down her information, something came out of her mouth. "Do you think I'm less of a woman for not wanting children?"
The clinician turned around in her seat and marveled at the question. "No."
"So, it's not wrong for me to be a woman who doesn't want kids?" Cassandra asked, carrying this shame with her as she presented the discovery she'd made on her own.
"The way I see it," the clinician began, "being a mother, whether it's biologically or other ways, is an extension of womanhood, not its definition. Everyone makes the choice to be a mother. Not every woman has to want it or be it, but she can still be just as much of a woman as women with children are."
"Yeah, that makes sense," Cassandra said, thinking about it.
Lately, she'd thought about women who would have wanted to be mothers but couldn't give birth and how they could still be as much of a mother as those who could give birth when or if they adopted or fostered a child. And sometimes a decision to adopt or foster didn't even have to do with the fact that a woman couldn't have children, as was the case with Lou and Georgie. She'd seen how much Georgie loved Lou and how Lou had made sure Georgie would feel part of the family in every way possible.
Cassandra had also thought about women who'd given birth but refused to look after their children. She could name a few people from her past who were living as "a mother" who'd then completely forgotten their responsibilities as a parent and in the process had given up their title.
Both types of women had made choices one way or another. The title of a mother was sometimes something you earned and sometimes something you decided for yourself.
"I guess that's just feels where I'm at now and… it kind of scared me to realize that. I was… ashamed, or something," she confessed.
"Being a mother is a role that society likes to place on nearly every woman, but that doesn't mean we have to listen to what other people think. In the end, our lives are for us to decide," the clinician said. "Maybe you'll feel differently later; maybe you won't. But you shouldn't have to stress about it. The only standards you have to live up to are your own, and even they can change sometimes. Just do what feels best for you right now."
"Thank you," Cassandra said, feeling relieved. "It feels to good to hear someone say that."
The clinician smiled at her. "I feel like we don't say it enough to women. But we should."
Eventually, way after her body had gotten stronger, Cassandra was beginning to feel stronger mentally as well.
What she had found to be sort of a gateway into something new was when Amy had announced some weeks later that she was expecting. For the first time since the operation and almost surprisingly, Cassandra wasn't thinking about her own experience but was more focused on Amy's. Even if she didn't find motherhood something she wanted for herself, she could still feel happy for other people about their situation.
And when she finally saw Caleb holding Ty and Amy's baby in his arms, she knew this was a role for Caleb, only that it wasn't with her. She didn't want to force Caleb to be childless because of her own wishes, and it wouldn't be fair of him to expect her to change her mind either, so it was better they'd gone their separate ways. No matter how much you loved someone, being together wasn't always the best option.
After all, the way everyone chose to live their lives was their decision.
THE END