Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Listen!

I'm one of those people who's all, "No, no, SERIOUSLY, it's a GOOD SONG! Listen to the WORDS!"

It's kind of ironic, but since Zee Baby made her debut, the local radio station has been playing the hell out of this song. It makes me cry every time. Not in a bad way. Not in a happy way. But in a, um, I don't know, a real way. I love it. But I'm not going to tell you what the song is about because Zee is sleeping and I have only moments to impart my feelings.

Just know that I LOVE IT. And, if you are so inclined, you'll have to listen to the words to know just why.

I love it because it doesn't stand on a soap box and tell you, or me, how to feel.

I love it because it's raw and honest and doesn't hide anything.

I love it because it speaks to me, even though I could never, in a million years, have written it.

I love it so much I want to hump it.

My relationship with this song, as most passionate relationships go, is a Love-Hate one. I hate it, too.

I hate it because it reminds me that I decided to have an abortion all alone. Like, pretty much, ALL ALONE. There was no, "Hey, let's go out for coffee or have a deep talk on a picnic table at the park or let's hibernate in your dorm room and decide what the hell we do about the situation we created together." There was none of that. Sure, there was, "Well, Zube Girl, we will support you NO MATTER WHAT you do, but as your Mom and Dad, we just can't make that decision for you. Or even, really, with you." I was smart enough to figure that the asshole that raped me wasn't going to be much help in making that decision. I'm a smart cookie like that. It was all on me.

I hate it, too, because it reminds me that, instead of a boyfriend, my Dad brought me to the clinic. And people looked at us funny. He being so much older than me. I could feel their assumptions creeping up my back. It sucked. But I don't ever think I'll be able to thank my Dad enough for being there.

I hate it even more because it reminds me that the abortion is MY secret. It's not really a secret anymore. I've told the whole damn internets about it. But it's mine. My decision that I made all by myself. I'm a little bit of an idiot because I force myself to see the positive side of that. At least I didn't have a boyfriend who disagreed and wanted me to do something else. But 'at leasts' don't assuage the craptasticness of the situation completely. There will be no ex-boyfriend writing a touching song about my abortion.

I hate it because I could never have written it. Not in a million years. Because it just wasn't like that for me. Even though it kind of was.

Now that Zee is here, I've been thinking about stuff. Choice being one of them. I've often wondered at how, surprisingly, the miscarriages, rather than making me less Pro-Choice, made me more so. They made me realize just how personal my ute is and how nobody else needs to be getting their nosy asses up in her proceedings. I figure other people are entitled to feel the same.

The other day, Zube Boy returned home from work. He walked over to say hi to Zee, and at the sound of his voice, she broke into a huge grin and waved her arms and kicked her feet. It was the very first time she acknowledged so gleefully her Daddy coming home from work. A tear did stir in mine eye. And Zube Boy was beyond thrilled, whisking her up and hugging her. It was nothing short of awesome-tastic. A scene I'm sure I'll be able to replay in my mind's eye for many years to come.

I reflect on that moment a lot. I think about how different my life could be. I often hear Pro-Life folks lamenting the children that will never be because of abortion. I can't help but think, well what about the children that wouldn't be here if it weren't for abortion? Because Zee is one of them. And when I see such joyous interactions between her and her Daddy, there isn't a doubt in my mind I made the right choice, albeit a difficult one. Children deserve to be swooped up and showered with kisses by their Dads. Or their Moms. Whether it's one of each or two of both. They deserve loving parents. Zee has that. I could not have provided that for the child of my rapist.

The song reminds me just how difficult it was to choose. And how lonely it felt. But, as with all difficult things, we get through them. And sometimes we don't know their purpose until many moons later. Like, maybe eleven years, three months and some days.