After that phone call, I still had a few weeks left to make up my mind. I did pretty much whatever any other sane person might do: I spoke to my husband, my therapist, I went for a little pastoral counseling, and I spoke to a select few trusted friends.
I also set out to avoid certain people: people who I knew had a vested (read: selfish) interest in my decision, people who had struggled with infertility, people who had hard-line stances in either direction. This was a complex and complicated issue for me---one that I didn't fully understand myself---so a part of me didn't really expect anybody else to "get it."
I spent a lot of time in prayer, and out walking my faithful companion. I shed a lot of tears. I read some, I wrote some, I went to Acting class one night and tried to act but just cried. I listened to a lot of soothing music. I was scared and overwhelmed, and knew that this was a one-shot deal. In the depths of my soul, I knew that this chance was not going to come my way again. I had a heart-to-heart talk with a new friend who confessed that she had had both an abortion and a child; she was brutally honest with me about how she felt about both of her life choices.
I kept talking to my husband, but as he put it, and as we both knew...it was ultimately up to me.
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