My heart tightened and I pulled my hand back. “Who said I want an abortion?” I looked at them cautiously. Could the baby’s voice be real and their earlier kindness just a trick to get me to the hospital?
My mother frowned. “Abigail, what do you mean?”
Abigail’s eyes filled with anger. “Didn’t you make her come back just to donate bone marrow for me?”
She looked at me and said, “Sis, while the baby is still small, you should have an abortion. You’re young. After donating your bone marrow, you can have more children.”
My father’s face turned dark. He shouted, “Stop! Sophia is pregnant, so we can’t do a matching test. Today, it’s just your brother and me. If it doesn’t work, we’ll find another way.”
Abigail’s eyes filled with anger. “Then why did you call her back? You have my brother and me at home; you don’t need kids.” She lowered her head and cried quietly.
I saw a large red patch on the back of her neck, with peeling skin showing bright red flesh and pus soaking through her hospital gown.
My stomach turned and I ran out of the ward, covering my mouth. As we got farther away, the baby’s voice came back. “See? I was right. They just want you to donate bone marrow. How dare you come here?”
I didn’t argue, but I was sure my parents and brother didn’t want me to donate. It was Abigail who wanted me to. I looked at my belly with a dark feeling.
After thinking for a long time, I made an appointment for a prenatal checkup. The baby yelled, “Are you going to abort me? You’re a bad mother! Bad mothers get punished!”
Suddenly, my stomach was filled with intense pain, worse than before. My legs gave out and I almost fell.
I grabbed the doctor’s hand and begged, “Please help me check if my baby is healthy. I love my baby and want him to be born safely.”
“So it wasn’t to abort me. You’re smart.” As the baby’s voice faded, the pain eased. I became more and more scared of this child who had hurt me so freely.
The prenatal checkup finished quickly. I asked the doctor several times and he confirmed that my baby was healthy.
I gripped my clothes tightly. “If I have an abortion now…”
The baby’s voice was quiet and eerie. “Mom, do you really not want me?”
I shivered, too scared to speak and quickly left the doctor’s office. Sitting on a hallway bench, I wondered if I should tell my husband what the baby had said.
This child was terrifying. I didn’t dare keep him. But would my husband believe me? After thinking a lot, I posted online: [I can hear my baby’s voice, but reality doesn’t match. What’s happening?]
The post quickly got replies and I opened them, hopefully. But people were mocking me, saying I’d gone crazy from pregnancy and suggesting I see a psychiatrist.
The more I read, the more upset I felt. At the same time, my stomach hurt again and I almost fell off my chair.
The baby’s voice echoed, “Are you still thinking about an abortion?”
With shaking hands, I messaged my husband, telling him about the baby’s voice and how it had tormented me.
[Honey, I don’t want this child anymore!]
After sending the message, I got up to schedule an abortion. Just then, a reply of three or four hundred words appeared on my post.
After reading it, I finally understood my baby’s voice! Anger filled my eyes and I deleted the message I had just sent my husband.
Looking at my swollen belly, I said coldly, word by word, “Baby, don’t worry. Mommy will definitely give birth to you!”
After I said this, the intense pain slowly eased. I took a deep breath and walked toward Abigail’s ward.
