After Kindly Driving My Student to School, I Was Forced to Abort

One rainy day I gave a student a ride to school out of kindness, and just like that, his mother started treating me as her personal chauffeur.

Every day she waited at the front gate of her complex, expecting me to ferry her son to and from school.

It wasn't exactly convenient, but the route lined up, so I let it slide.

Then one day I took time off for a prenatal checkup and didn't come down on schedule. Howie's mother called the second I was late.

"Ms. Whitney, my Howie's about to be late for school, and here you are sleeping in!"

That was when I remembered I'd forgotten to tell her. I quickly explained that I had a checkup today and they shouldn't wait for me.

Howie's mother cut me off.

"No way. My son's used to being picked up now, so you get back here right now!"

"I don't know how a teacher of all people got so desperate, but now you've gone and gotten yourself pregnant, and it's holding up my son's schooling!"

"You're not even showing yet and already this much trouble. God knows how much of a hassle you'll be once the baby's here!"

"This won't do. Drop my son off today, then go get rid of that baby, or I'll file a complaint with the school!"

I actually laughed, out of sheer anger. I never thought I'd meet a parent this unreasonable.

Too bad she'd picked the wrong person. If there's one thing I'm not afraid of, it's a complaint.

...

"Ms. Whitney, are you listening to me?"

She was still ranting on the other end.

I pushed down the anger rising in my chest and answered coldly.

"Ma'am, giving your son a lift because it's on my way was a courtesy, not my obligation."

"I never charged you a cent for it, so don't treat me like your personal driver."

"And whether or not I keep my baby is none of your business."

With that, I hung up.

My husband, Cedric Simmons, had gone to wait in line and pay the fee, and he came walking back just then with a cup of water.

Seeing how bad I looked, he quickly handed me the warm water.

"What's wrong, honey? Who got you this worked up?"

I took the cup, drank a sip, and repeated everything Howie's mother had said on the phone.

Cedric was furious.

"Is she sick in the head? She really thinks you're free labor?"

"You did her a kindness giving her son a ride, and now she's latched right onto you!"

"Honey, no more rides, and I mean it. What kind of freak parent is that?"

I nodded, my own irritation simmering.

All this time driving Howie back and forth, the aggravating things his mother had pulled were beyond counting.

The most outrageous one was last month.

I had an unexpected meeting after work, so I texted her to come pick up her son herself.

Instead she left Howie sitting by my car, waiting forty minutes, while she went off to get her nails done.

My head was buzzing with rage. I called Howie's mother right then and there.

I demanded to know why she'd left the boy alone in the parking lot.

She answered like it was nothing.

"Come on, Ms. Whitney, you're heading home after your meeting anyway. What's the harm in letting him wait a bit?"

"My nail tech is really in demand. If I skipped this appointment I'd have to wait ages for another."

Looking at Howie shivering in the cold, I forced the harsh words back down.

I just took the boy home.

Looking back now, I'd been far too easy on her. Give her an inch and she'd taken a mile.

"Rosalind Whitney, you're up. Room three."

The nurse calling my number pulled me out of my thoughts.

Cedric quickly helped me to my feet, and we walked carefully into the exam room.

After a full round of tests, the doctor looked at the ultrasound results, his tone grave.

"This pregnancy isn't looking very stable."

"The first three months are the most dangerous. Is your job pretty stressful? Big mood swings?"

I nodded again and again.

Being a homeroom teacher, how could I not worry, how could I not get angry.

"Go home and get plenty of bed rest. The most important thing is to keep your spirits up."

"Whatever you do, don't get upset again, or you could lose this baby."

The doctor prescribed a few boxes of medication to support the pregnancy, with warning after warning.

Cedric had gone pale listening beside me, promising the doctor over and over that he'd take good care of me.

Once we left the hospital, Cedric drove me straight home and had me lie down to rest.

Then he went off to the kitchen to make me chicken soup.

I hadn't been lying down long when my phone buzzed.

The caller ID showed Gordon Lawrence, the grade-level director.

I hit answer.

"Rosalind Whitney, come in to work tomorrow morning, but don't go to your classroom first. Come straight to my office."

Gordon's tone was sharp, thick with that official bluster.

"Director Lawrence, is something the matter?" I asked.

"The matter? You don't know what you've done?"

"A parent went and filed a complaint with me!"

"You get here early tomorrow and explain yourself, all of it!"

And then he hung up.