I Can’t Do It Alone

Move back home and do it with your mother.

But. But it would change your life. Change our lives. In a good way. We would be less self centered and less selfish. We could be a family.

No way. You are in no position. You are on methadone. You take psych meds. You were high risk the first time around. And need I remind you of the fact that you have no money? You are not exactly set up or well funded. I like my life the way it is now. I have my music. My career. Things the way I like them. I don’t want all that to change. And if I did want that for some reason, I would want it to be with someone else. Someone more equipped. Not you.

That’s harsh.

I’m just being honest.

Okay. I understand. You have provided plenty of valid reasons. I do not necessarily agree with them, but I do understand. I see your point of view. I wish you felt differently.

The thing is I don’t. Feel differently.

Do you think you might change your mind?

Absolutely not. I am firm in my conviction. And frankly, I wish you would stop trying to convince me to see things your way. I will not change how I feel about this.

I understand.

Move in with your mother. It will be you and her. I am out. I want nothing to do with it.

It would be worth the trouble and worth the risk. You would be glad you made that choice. Eventually, you would see. There’s more to life than your music career and your comfortable lifestyle. Don’t you want more?

Things are where I want them. I am not going to change my mind. Stop trying to convince me.

I am not well enough. It would probably kill me. I get it. I do. Neither choice is good right now.

You are in no position to go through with it. I am going to pay for it. You do not have to worry about that part.

I cannot tell my family.

No. They would not understand. They would try to talk you out of it. They would vilify me. Your mother would fly out here and physically stand in your way.

Johnny said you were devastated. That this was devastating you. Johnny and Charlotte are okay with me making that choice for myself. It’s fine if I do it, but Charlotte would never do it. She has two children. I have one. Imogene. Imogene does not live with me. I have not spoken with her in a year. I abandoned her to move out here with you. We were supposed to start a family. That is what I told her we were going to do. And Rivers died. I had him and he was born sick, and he died. There is no guarantee that it would not happen again. I could not live through that again. I was extremely high risk for both. And now I am even older.

If we had more money. If you were healthier. If you were not on food stamps.

If a lot of things.

You know I love you. You know that right?

I think I know that. I mean, do you? Love me? Because I love you. A lot. But I thought we were going to get married. I swore I would never do it alone ever again. I swore I would never go through that without the support of someone standing by my side. I did it alone the first time. And Rivers died when he was a month old. This is my last chance. To have a family. Imogene could move out here and live with us.

You can move back home and raise it with your mother.

I cannot do it alone. It is not fair to do that to her. She cannot afford it either. Look at all those women on assistance and welfare. They make do. Plenty of people cannot afford to and they get by. What about them?

They have shitty lives, and their kids are raised in daycare so they can work the third shift for minimum wage. Latchkey kids raise themselves. Is that what you want? You have no money. I have no money.

What if I regret it? I cannot believe what you are asking me to do. I know what it feels like to hold a healthy newborn baby in my arms. I am not a teenager. This is my last chance. I always wanted a big family. I am too old to do this. What woman my age is making this choice?

You do not even raise the child you have now. You can’t. You are not well. No offense but you are mentally ill. And that medicine they have you on? It is all unsafe for a developing fetus. You are high risk. And didn’t you have loads of complications?

I love you so much you know I am willing to do whatever you want me to do.

Good. I love you too. This is really the best thing for us. For you. And for me.

I know I am going to regret it.

Then move home. Your mother will help you.

I cannot move home. I cannot live with my mother again. It is too much to ask her to do. If it’s what you want, and I cannot change your mind then I will do it. But please know that I do not want to. It is the worst thing you could ever ask me to do. But I swore to myself I would never do it like that again. Without support. Without a loving partner by my side. I can’t do it alone. Johnny said you were devastated.

Sam, this is not easy for me either. Do you think I want to make this decision? I know that it is not the right time.

If my name was Heather. If I had loads of money. If I was super beautiful. Then you would want it.

You do not know what you are talking about. Now please stop this nonsense. We have made up our minds. I will be by your side. I will buy you tortilla chips and salsa and hold your hand. I will make sure you have plenty of pain relievers.

All right. I will do it. For you. My psychiatrist said it is like passing a lemon.

It is the right thing to do. For you and for both of us.

You would be a good dad. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Don’t you want to be a father?

This is not easy for me. I want us to do the right thing. I am glad we are on the same page now. You are sweet to say that. I think I would be a good dad but now is not the right time.

I can’t do it alone. Okay, okay. You’re right. It’s the right thing to do.

For many reasons.

For many reasons. You’re right. I love you. You know I would do anything for you. Even this.

It will be okay. It is still so early. It is basically a grain of rice. I do not want you to feel bad about it. You are doing the right thing. We are doing the right thing. Do not let anyone make you feel badly about this. Okay? I love you. I will be with you.

Okay. Okay. Can we stop talking about it? Let’s talk about the weather. It is so hot already. Let’s talk about your music. Your latest song is a banger. What if you sold it to a tv show? That would be cool. Let’s talk about food. I have been craving fish tacos.

Of course we can change the subject. You’re right. We have spent enough time talking about this. I am glad we have finally decided.

Fish tacos! The weather! Your music!

We can do fish tacos. From that Mexican place downtown, you like. It’s going to be a scorching summer. It is Arizona. What did you expect?

I have always been here on vacation in January when it’s pleasant. The weather is perfect in January. I’ve never lived here year-round. It is already so hot. You mentioned the methadone earlier. You know there are plenty of women in the program who are pregnant. Who go on to have healthy…

Stop. You are doing it again. We have made up our minds. I am not having a baby born addicted to methadone. It’s gross.

But isn’t it gross…I don’t know. I guess you’re right. You are always right. And I know I can’t do it alone. I’m high risk. There’s no guarantee. And the methadone. It’s gross. It is a grain of rice. Like passing a lemon. I guess I don’t know what that means. It reminds me of Gus Grissom and the Apollo 1 space program. How he hung a lemon on a wire clothes hanger outside of the shuttle to make his feelings known about how the technology was not there yet. He did not think they could make it to the moon. And he should have known. He was an astronaut.

There you go again. My little conspiracy theorist. What’s your point? You think he was killed because of what he knew?

He was killed because of what he knew. No one knows what he knew. NASA and the CIA came into his house after he died in the fire and took away all his papers and research papers. His family said so.

What does that have to do with a lemon?

My psychiatrist said it’s like passing a lemon. It reminded me of the lemon that Gus Grissom hung on the space shuttle. He was saying the whole thing—the program and the technology—was a lemon. It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid, I guess. It just reminded me of that. So, do you want fish tacos?

I could eat fish tacos. If you want them, we can get them. It’s not a big deal. Should we walk over there now? Why don’t you call in the order, so it will be ready when we get there?

Okay. I will call in the order. How many can you eat? I can eat two.

I can eat three. They are small. Are we splitting this? You know what? Never mind. I’ve got it. It’s on me. You can get it next time.

Thanks.

Hi. Yes. Take out please. Five fish tacos. A side of queso and chips. Thanks.

Let’s walk over there now.

I am not feeling well.

I know. You will be back to normal soon. That is another plus. You don’t have to be sick for months.

Yeah, you are right. Babe?

Yes?

Can I stay home, and you get the tacos? I am about to vomit.

I really do not want to pay for tacos if you are just going to puke them up. Fine. I’ll go. You stay here. Feel better. You will feel better soon.

I must do it myself.

Do what?

It.

Oh.

When I was 21, I had the procedure done for me. But now, it's on me to do it. I must be the one to do it. No one can do it for me.

That is true. I am sorry. You can do it.

I am going to do it because I can’t do it alone. It is four pills. That’s it. And I must swallow them. And then the cramps will start. They said it would be painful.

You can do it. There is no other choice. We have decided. We are on the same page. You will do it. Why? Because you are badass. And because I love you. And you love me. And my life is not going to change. And because you cannot afford it.

And because I do not want to move back home to my mother's house. I can’t move back there. It is not fair to her, Doug. And because I swore I would never do it again. Not like that. I can’t do it alone.

I’m leaving now. You’ll feel better after you eat something. Stop obsessing over this. Get out of your head. You are my girl. And I love you. We are in this together.

I love you.

Don’t overthink it. We are making the right decision. I will be right back. Rest. Take it easy.

Thank you.

Doug left the apartment and walked to the little Mexican place in the presidio. Old Tucson with its teal stripe and stones, the dusty palm trees and the scorching sun. She agreed to do it for another reason. The person who got her into that situation did not exactly exist. He had never done that before, and it made no sense. It was like suddenly being with an impulsive teenager who does not think about consequences. Who had that guy been? She could barely remember it. It existed in the blur that was the past several months and years. She was with Doug. But she did not have a partner. Not really.

On the day they went to the clinic to get the dose of pills, a polite protestor woman was standing on the sidewalk that led to the front door. She was standing by herself wearing a t shirt that read: HOPE for LIFE. She said something as they walked past her. And Doug flipped out. Can’t she mind her own business? He railed.

But the t-shirt meant nothing to Sam. Hope? What was that? Just another word on a t-shirt. It meant nothing to her.

Doug did not wait with her. The clinic was full of teenagers and one Spanish couple who were extremely far along. Like, showing far along. The tv suspended from the ceiling was showing a Planet Earth episode and wet black seals barked from a granite rock. Sam looked up at the television because there was nothing else to do but watch and wait.

An orca whale jumped out of the water and fell back in with a huge splash. There were dolphins racing in the waves swimming caught out in the wild in their pods. The whole Planet Earth show at that time in that place was, to Sam’s porous mind, an ungodly test of irony, rhetoric of comparisons and indifference.

The doctor was listening to disco music. Disco music blasted loudly from the rooms in the back of the place and nurses bopped their heads. Almost like they had a party going on at all times. She felt the music was another contrary display of those workers being unconventional, nonchalant and oh so cool.

She had to wait for hours in the lobby and then in one of the exam rooms. The nurse or tech asked her if she wanted to see the ultrasound and she said yes. But then they did not show it to her. She was in a chemical straight jacket from the methadone, and she did not ask for the ultrasound or demand to see it.

Doug kept going to the car for whatever reason. Probably talking to his new online girlfriend or someone he met at the bar. After Sam swallowed the pills, she realized, truly realized what she had done, and she hit him and screamed at him in the car parked out front of the pharmacy. It was too late to vomit up the pills but looking back she would always wish that she had been brave enough to force her fingers down her throat.

In truth, there were so many justifiable factors that contributed to the choice she made that day. But the main reason was she could not do it alone. They eventually broke up and she moved back home anyway. She should have been stronger than to let him make that decision for her. But she was incapable of freedom of thought and of action. She would have a six-year-old son or daughter right now.

Instead, live with a lifetime of regret. Even though she did the right thing. She tries not to let it get to her. She reminds herself all the time that she made the right choice. Yes, now she can live her life without any attachment to the man who never loved her enough to make an honest woman out of her, marry her, start a family. Doug was looking for something better. A healthier woman with less emotional baggage and more of a trust fund. He’s still looking. He still has not found what he is looking for. And no amount of disco music could ever make that scene a party.