Mac fiddles with the buttons on her uniform. Harriet watches every move. Her eyes are drawn to the General's midsection. She notices that the uniform is snugger than usual around the middle. Harriet takes a seat next to her on the couch. She squeezes her hand.
"Talk to me," she softly implores.
"I am not nearly as good at juggling as you are."
"It takes a lot of practice."
"It's just me, and Izzy. The timing couldn't be worse. I don't want to start over. I don't know how I could possibly…" she trails off.
"What are you saying?"
"Never mind, it's not important."
"Yes it is, what happened?"
"I couldn't do it. I had all of these logical, practical, reasons why I should. I went over it a hundred times in my head. I thought that it would be simple."
"Life never is."
"The thought of doing all of this on my own is completely overwhelming."
"You're not alone."
"Most of the time it's just me. I don't know how I am going to do this."
"What made you change your mind?"
"It was so permanent. I couldn't take it back. I just kept thinking that if I woke up, and decided that I regretted it, and wanted to change my mind it would have been too late. I couldn't change it after the fact."-
She lies in a cold sterile room surrounded by medical personnel. She watches as the nurse inserts an IV into her arm. She lies on the table wearing little more than a sterile drape. She looks around the room. She tries to find a way to distract herself from the task at hand. She hears the shuffling of sterile booties, and notices the doctor entering the room. The nurse takes a seat on a stool, next to her. She connects the IV to a sterile flush. She watches the IV site closely. Sarah turns, and looks to her left. She studies the IV in her left antecubital. The nurse holds a syringe in one hand. She squeezes Sarah's hand.
"Are you ready?" She whispers.
"No," she says louder than she anticipated.
The nurse places the syringe on a tray nearby. She returns to Sarah's side after a moment. She takes a seat next to her.
"We'll wait until you're ready."
She shakes her head, and swallows hard. The lights overhead are bright, and quite harsh. She looks at the nurse.
"No."
"You don't want us to wait? Once I inject the medication it will take effect very quickly."
"I don't want to do this," she answers with tear filled eyes.
"Okay. I hear you," she nods. She vacates her seat, and grabs another one of the nurses. They waste the medication, and the energy of the room shifts. The personnel leaves the room one by one. When she looks over she finds the nurse standing by her side. Sarah shifts into a sitting position with her help. She removes the IV, and applies a two by two and a piece of tape. Sensing that she's cold she piles on another blanket. She moves her across the hallway into another room. She closes the door behind them, and removes Sarah's clothes from the locker.
She lies in her bed wide awake. She kicks the covers off her body as she feels her temperature rise. She lies on her side, facing the door. She stares at the doorway, surrounded in silence. What she's been avoiding finally catches up with her. As the silence of her own room envelopes her the reality catches up with her.
She is already a single mother. How can she even consider bringing another child into this world? How will any of this be fair to Izzy. She doesn't want this baby. She exhales, reminding herself of her decision just twelve hours earlier. She had thought she didn't want it, but her actions say differently. Her inability to make the situation disappear speaks to the contrary.
Her hand shifts onto her stomach. She presses her hand against her abdomen. She recalls black and white images from earlier in the week. It's not as if the creature inside her appears as some unidentifiable being. It is easily defined. There is no doubt what it is. It is more than a cluster of cells. It looks like a baby. She can't seem to push the image from her mind.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't tell anyone."
"You could have told me."
"What exactly would I have said?"
"You should have said something."
"I couldn't."
"Why not?"
"I still don't know whether I made the right decision or not. I hate the entire situation."
"What do you mean?"
"This was not how I pictured my life ending up."
"Life rarely ends up the way we plan it," Harriet reminds her.
"I never expected Harm to cheat. I didn't see it coming…"
"You still feel betrayed?"
"Yes."
"And you're angry that he left with some many things unresolved?"
"Yeah."
"You did it to get back at him?"
"That sounds crazy. He's dead," she stops abruptly.
Harriet nods, "And you will never know if you could have made things work."
"I know that I couldn't have."
"Then why are you so torn?"
"I invested so much time into that marriage. When I found out what he had done I fell apart. It was my fault. I pushed him away every chance I got. It is no wonder that…"
She cuts Mac off, "You are not responsible for his actions."
"I feel responsible."
"Just like you're not responsible for his death."
"I am responsible for my reaction. I reacted horribly. I was angry, and I flung myself at someone else in an attempt to avoid whatever the hell I was feeling at the time. It was selfish, and immature, and I didn't once consider the consequences."
"He was already gone," Harriet reminds her.
"I had only been cleared for his murder for a couple of days. He was barely in the ground, Harriet."
"Why are you struggling with this so much?"
"I loved Harm. I wanted to be married to him. I wanted to have a child with him. I wanted a life with him."
"And?"
"I always wanted Izzy," she responds.
"Mac," she tries to reason with her.
She shakes her head, and breaks eye contact as her eyes fill with tears. She swallows hard, "I don't want this. I don't want to be pregnant. I don't want this baby. I never wanted this baby. I still don't."